Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Reader is in love with her best friend, Bucky. The feeling is mutual but having a troubled relationship with her father means that she’s scared to risk the heartbreak.
A/N: I MAY have cried while writing this. To all the girls who, like me, have shitty dads and derive a lot of comfort from Bucky - I’m dedicating this to you. We deserved better.
“Do ya think you’d ever go on a date with me?”
Bucky’s words echoed in your brain, sending a sharp pain in your chest with each repetition. The quietness in the jet only increased the agony of that moment being replayed. Your best friend had stood before you and put his emotions on the line - something he had never afforded himself to do. Then you made him realise why.
Two of your ribs were fractured from the mission but that thought was more painful.
“So quiet, what are you thinking about?” Yelena commented, looking over her shoulder from her pilot duties to check up on you.
“Nothing.” You replied putting your hand over your ribs and resting your back against the seat.
Bucky was going to be so worried when he’d found out you’d been injured. You could see it now, him following you around like a puppy. At least, he might have done if you’d given him a better answer than ‘I don’t know’ to a date. When you left for the mission he had worn a wounded expression that he’d desperately tried to conceal as you told him goodbye.
The truth is, when Bucky had asked you that question it threw your body into a complete state of conflict.
Your heart was about to burst out of your chest, as if it was trying to escape and connect with Bucky’s. It was crying out for you to say yes to him and take everything you had ever wanted.
That was until your brain stepped in and lassoed your heart to keep it in its place. The logic had corrupted you and was determined to prevent you from getting hurt. It wore you down and drowned out the excitement of your heart. It went to work in bringing back all the disappointment and hurt caused by your father who had left you behind at an early age.
But your lungs burned. The air was trapped in them and you struggled to breathe. It felt like you were being suffocated. It was a curious and familiar feeling from when you were younger.
To be the daughter of a man who abandons you is to constantly hold your breath in fear that if you let go, you’ll fall apart.
The other organs had overpowered and barricaded your lonely heart. They left you in the predicament of stuttering and stammering in front of a very nervous Bucky which had concluded with your pathetic answer. The memory had plagued you ever since.
Simultaneously, your brain provided you with flashbacks of being a child and waiting excitedly for a a man that rarely ever came. The feeling of disappointment after every interaction with your father that somehow managed to make you feel so unimportant had returned. The lump in your throat held there with every breath reminded you of the struggle to accept that he was never going to be what you needed to him to be.
It had taken some bone-crushing strength to move on. He was your father and you needed him to be better. As his child, you believed you should be the only motivation he needed to stop being so unreliable and grow up.
Whilst you were right, that is unfortunately not how the world works.
Now the perfect man had asked you the question you deemed was only possible in your wildest dreams. But to say yes to him was to give him access to potentially do the exact same thing as your father had done.
It was just too much of a risk.
The jet had landed with a halt and Yelena came over to assist you with walking off. You were quietly grateful for her, trying to hide just how much pain in you were in as you grasped Yelena’s shoulder.
Sam was poised and waiting for you both. Bucky stood next to him, fidgeting anxiously in anticipation of your return. He had spent the last few days licking his wounds in your absence. He had accepted that you had only ever been so affectionate with him because you were a good friend and he’d misinterpreted it. It fucking stung, but he respected that you can’t help how you feel. Although your answer had left him unsure where he stood with you, he was eager for you to return so he could be the best friend you needed him to be.
Bucky’s face fell as his eyes landed on Yelena holding you up with your arm round her shoulders and your regular wincing.
“First of all, are you okay?” Sam asked, him and Bucky instinctively making their way over to you both, ready to take you from Yelena if need be.
“Yeah, just fractured some ribs. No biggie.” You joked but it sounded painful. You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you, scanning and analysing you, processing the possibilities if this had been worse.
It made you feel weak and incompetent. The strong super soldier wanted to protect you and all you could think about is that you wished you were stronger. All of those years of having to establish your independence and leave behind weakness and vulnerability were completely discarded in that moment with Bucky’s pitiful look.
“Okay well, get checked out. No training or missions for you until you’re better.” Sam instructed, having settled into his new role as Captain America; he needed to make sure his team were in the best shape possible.
“Got it, Cap.” You nodded at Yelena to get her to take you to the medical wing of the compound. That was when Bucky stepped in.
“I’ll take it from here, Yelena.” He said and before you could even say anything, you were scooped up into Bucky’s arms and he was carrying into the compound.
“I could have walked.” You protested meekly. Being in his arms felt awkward, you didn’t allow yourself to hold on to him because then you’d stop holding your breath and you’d be done for.
“This is easier.” He retorted. For the first time since Bucky had started his recovery, he was unable to look you in the eye.
It was stony silence between you both, each of you having moments to open your mouths but no words came out. Nothing felt right. Despite being in his arms, a gap had been wedged between you and you were unsure how you’d ever be able to get back to him again.
You fixated on Bucky’s jaw which was constantly clenched, you could just about feel his teeth grinding together. His slouched shoulders and defeated expression didn’t go unnoticed by you. He was your best friend, you knew everything about him. Bucky was heartbroken.
Heartbroken, yet he still showed up for you when you needed him.
It was now a requirement that the compound had medical staff on hand at all times. Pepper had insisted on it in the rebuild, too many people had been lost. More preventative measures were put in place to keep the team as safe as possible.
You were thankful that you didn’t have to go to hospital but it now meant that Bucky was glued to your side as you were checked over. He was sitting on the edge of his seat, digesting everything the doctor had said to you while you lay back wishing he would go away.
Bucky being there was a constant reminder that you’d hurt him. Locked inside its cage, your heart wept at the thought, desperate for you to tell Bucky you’d been stupid and you’d love to date him, marry him, die for him.
It made your lungs tighten and your breath hitch, ready to give way. You had to be stronger than this. Love was not worth risking the pain of being abandoned. You had vowed never to give anyone the power to make you feel that way again.
When the doctor left, Bucky settled back into his chair, clearly having no intention of leaving. You settled down on the bed, feeling drowsy from the painkillers and squeezed your eyes shut like a child, wishing that when you opened them that he’d be gone.
Alas, moments later when you opened your eyes again he was still there, watching over you protectively.
“You don’t need to sit with me, Buck. I’m sure you’ve got better things to be doing.” You mumbled, looking away from him to stare out of the window.
“I am not leaving your side, need to make sure you’re okay.” Bucky responded. “And I missed you.”
His voice broke a little at the last four words, almost as though he was scared to admit it to you. It wasn’t like you were a stranger to his vulnerability but this felt different after him admitting to having feelings a few days prior. It made you frown.
“I missed you too.” You muttered. “I’m sorry about the other day.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Bucky said defensively and definitively as though he didn’t want to talk about it. He was ready to pretend it didn’t happen and move forward as your friend.
But Bucky deserved the whole world. The least you could do is offer an explanation.
“No, Bucky, you deserve better than an ‘I don’t know’. In all honesty, you’re… perfect. And I’ve loved you for a long time. The way my heart skipped a beat when you asked me that question, you have no idea. But I just can’t…”
“Why?” Bucky choked out, his voice still broken. He had moved to the edge of his seat again, his eyes constantly darting between you and your fingers which you were anxiously playing with.
“Can’t risk it. I can’t risk being abandoned.”
“I’d never leave you.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” You snapped at him and instantly regretted it as you could sense his posture shrink with the unsolicited harshness. It wasn’t intentional but rather instinctual. Words were empty; if a parent could leave you then there was nothing to stop a boyfriend from doing the same thing.
“You promise me you won’t leave all the time.” Bucky offered after a couple of seconds of uncomfortable silence. He was right, in all of his moments of insecurity and grief after Hydra; it was you providing comfort and reassurance. It was you by his side, being his supportive and loving best friend.
“Because I know how shit it is to be left.” You sighed and felt the painful tug in your chest. Your breathing was rapid and your lungs were aching. They were agonisingly trying to keep everything in; keeping your heart locked up and holding your breath. You’d come too far, you couldn’t let go now.
“And you think I don’t?” It was Bucky’s turn to snap now.
His words were a cruel and embarrassing wake up call. It prompted you to give him eye contact and fuck, he really was broken.
It was so insensitive: you should have known better than that. Steve leaving him behind had had a profound effect on Bucky. Rarely did he ever let people see his tears but he had allowed you to cradle him like a baby while he sobbed for his friend who had left him behind.
“Buck, I’m so sorry.” You mumbled, feeling like a fool with your carelessness. Twice now had the tight leash you had kept on your lungs resulted in your words hurting Bucky. It was becoming more than you could bear.
Bucky shook his head lightly, waving off the comment and wiping the slate clean again. Nonetheless, he held your eye contact in search of further elaboration.
“It’s just I used to get all that crap from my dad about never leaving me and he did. It means nothing to me anymore. What if I’m not enough for you like I wasn’t for him?” Tears has trickled from the corners of your eyes and spilled down on to your face and the sheets.
Bucky wasted no time in getting up and sitting on the bed next to you, pulling you into his chest. The remaining pieces of the puzzle formed in his head. He had known before that any mention of your dad made you extremely uncomfortable and he had always changed the subject. Bucky understood all too well what it was like to be left behind, but not by a parent. Not by one of the very few people in this world that actually owed you something. He cursed himself for not considering this beforehand but quickly turned his focus to comforting you.
This time you didn’t protest to being taken in Bucky’s arms, you just wept into his t shirt as he stroked your hair and pressed loving kisses to the top of your head. Your brain was too fatigued to provide you with reasons why you should push him away. You just needed him.
“I need to protect my heart.” You asserted finally, trying to explain yourself further.
“Sweets, you’re breaking your own heart.” Bucky sighed as he pulled you in closer to him.
Just as you had cradled him when Steve left, it was his turn to do it for you. Engulfed in those strong arms, he rocked you gently and carefully. It felt safe and warm and like home.
Now that your brain had called surrender on this pointless fight against your feelings for Bucky, it played a different film in your head than memories of your dad.
You remembered Bucky teaching you to ride a motorbike. He had put your helmet on for you and let out a hearty laugh at the goofy grin you’d given him. Everything he did that day was with extreme patience as he’d put his hands over yours on the handlebars, explaining what everything was and how it worked. The praise he’d given you when you did something right had encouraged you to keep trying. Conversely, when you got something wrong or made a mistake; Bucky was calm and reassuring, compelling you to try again.
Or the time you’d gotten sick and were bedridden for days. Bucky made it his personal mission to take care of you. He was out of his depth, sure, but he had just tried to mirror what you had done when you comforted him after nightmares. Your cup of tea was never empty, you were never left without enough blankets, you never had to wait for your medicine. Bucky was attentive, caring and there.
Even today, you knew that based on his stoic face that you’d hurt him. But he still turned up for you. He was nothing like your father.
Bucky had proved already that he could be there. He was right: you were breaking your own heart. The trauma of abandonment had caused you to deny yourself a love that felt like home. You had been judge, jury and executioner in your own trial and had made a mistake.
Then it happened. You stopped holding your breath.
Your lungs expanded as fully as possible and then shrunk dramatically again. This process continued over and over as you inhaled as much air as possible and then exhaled in deep, incredible breaths.
“You okay, sweetheart?” Bucky asked, looking down at the powerful heaving of your chest and listening to your breathing.
You nodded in response, unable to offer any words. Without realising, you had clutched on to his t-shirt and balled up a bunch of the fabric in your fist.
It was exhausting after having kept your lungs in tension for so long but it was so liberating to let go safely. Focusing on the thudding of his heartbeat in his chest, it grounded and secured you.
Your own heart was screaming in her cage, knowing her rightful partner was close and she needed to be near him. You had set your brain and lungs free, it was time to do the same for your heart.
With some slow coaxing from Bucky as he rubbed your back and continued to kiss the top of your head, you started to calm down. Your lungs adjusted to regular breathing and seemed content in their new routine of being used the way they should always have been.
Your head was rested on Bucky’s chest, still finding comfort in his regular, clockwork heartbeat. The fabric of his shirt that you had grasped before had been let go and was left wrinkled and misshapen.
“You know, Doll,” Bucky began. “I understand why you feel like that, but I’m not your dad, okay?” He took a moment to look at you and ensure that you weren’t too upset or triggered for him to continue.
“You say you love me, so can you trust me? Can we give this a go?”
You looked up and met the adoring gaze of his ocean eyes. Instead of answering him with words you pressed your lips against his. It was soft and gentle, his flesh hand moving to hold your face. Even with his eyes closed, he’d studied your face enough to know where to run his thumb so it was along your cheekbone.
It was the key to unlocking your caged heart. She leapt from her shackled prison and lunged for Bucky’s heart to connect with him. The hearts embraced with the deepening of your kiss and formed an unbreakable bond.
When you finally pulled back for air - which your lungs were well accustomed to now - you couldn’t help but give each other a chuckle. Your foreheads met as your hearts worked in unison to pull you as close to each other as possible.
“Is that a yes then?” He asked, with a cheeky smile stretched across his face.
The insecurity and fear of being left was still there. You accepted that it always would be on some level. On the other hand, you’d had enough of constantly being on your guard and having to be so strong all the time. No longer would you send your vital organs into mortal combat over an irrelevant man when the man in front of you just wanted to love you.
“Yes.” You decided. “Yes it is.”
Metamorphosis | Bucky Barnes x Reader
H, friends! I was working on this fic and then got a message from @the-kestrels-feather asking for almost this exact story??? Tbh our brains are linked. They requested a non-binary reader, which I’ve never written before! So I’m a little nervous, but I did my best. :)
If you like my writing do me a favor and throw me a reblog 🥰
Bucky’s head lay heavy on your chest, his mind finally quieting enough to let him fall asleep. His calm, rhythmic breathing brought a smile to your face as you gently tangled your fingers through his long locks. Knowing Bucky was getting the rest he needed always made you happier, made you worry just a little bit less.
The close friendship you’d developed with him was unexpected to say the least. You thought back on how everyone warned you about Bucky when you when you joined the team and moved into the compound. They said he was quiet, cold, aloof- and you’d prepared for him to ignore you completely. But he surprised you.
Things between the two of you started cautiously. You treated Bucky like a skittish stray cat, waiting for him to come to you at his own pace- and if he never came around, you’d understand.
But when he found you in the compound’s kitchen baking cookies in the middle of the night, he couldn’t stop himself from being drawn in by your gentleness.
-----One Year Ago-----
Bucky’s deep voice startled you, forcing your heartrate into overdrive. He noticed the way you jumped and the wide eyes that betrayed your fear. He wasn’t sure if you simply didn’t expect company at 3am, or if you were afraid of who he used to be.
“Oh, sorry. I- I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just…” Bucky made his way to the cupboard and retrieved his favorite tea, “want a cup?”
With a simple nod, you accepted Bucky’s offer.
“I know this probably looks strange”, you motioned to the massive bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough resting on the counter and the mess that surrounded it, “but I’m not like, a weirdo or anything. I don’t always make cookies in the middle of the night”. Bucky gave you a simple nod, unsure of what to say.
“It’s just- I bake when I’m stressed. And I’m not used to living here yet…I kinda feel like a fish out of water, you know?” Bucky was all too familiar with the feeling of not fitting in, and still felt like an outsider after years of working with the team. “My anxiety won’t let me fall asleep, so...here I am,” you grabbed a fresh cookie from the cooling rack and extended it to Bucky, “wanna try one?”
He eyed the treat for a long moment before finally accepting. A smile instantly spread across his face as he chewed, and he couldn’t stop himself from shoving the rest of the cookie in his mouth. “These are really good”, he said with his mouth full, “thank you”.
Without hesitation, you grabbed the cooling rack and extended it to him, “have as many as you want, Sergeant Barnes. Er, James…? Bucky?” Embarrassment colored your cheeks a bright scarlet, “I’m sorry- I just realized that we haven’t spoken yet. I don’t know what to call you…”
Bucky let loose quiet laugh, “it’s alright. Um, Bucky. Bucky is fine”.
He extended his vibranium hand to give you a proper shake, but quickly withdrew and replaced it with his other one. An apologetic look filled his eyes and he looked away, embarrassed. He couldn't believe he'd slipped up so severely, offering you the one thing about him that scared almost everyone he knew.
Just then, the tea kettle began to sing, making both of you jump. Bucky quickly removed it from the heat and prepared his tea and yours, offering you the cup with a cautious smile.
An overwhelming need to remain in your presence tugged at him, but his trusty anxiety wanted nothing more than to make him scurry upstairs and hide from you. He opened his mouth to wish you goodnight before heading back to his room, but you didn’t give him the chance.
“Hey, wanna help me finish with these?” you offered him a cookie scoop and raised a brow at him, “it’ll be fun, I promise. And you can eat all the dough you want. Deal?”
He couldn’t believe how genuinely happy he was, how comfortable you made him feel. Spending this beautifully innocent moment together helped Bucky forget the night terror that had woken him not half an hour ago. And suddenly, he found himself opening up to you. It was only the tiny things- his birthday, where he grew up, his favorite book- but it was more than he’d told anyone in decades.
After that night, you and Bucky slowly became inseparable. Something about you felt safe to him, felt like home. He was warmer around you, his sharp scowl melting into a tentative smile. He didn’t know how to describe it, but Bucky felt drawn to you. There was something about your warm smile and kind eyes that welcomed him in immediately, and he found himself desperate to spend time with you. He wanted to see with you whenever possible, and you returned the feeling tenfold.
Bucky had a quiet energy that set you at ease. While the world saw him as the cold, ruthless killer who’d carried out countless murders as the Winter Soldier, you saw him as the sweet, shy man who helped you make cookies at 3am. Bucky made you feel heard, made you feel seen. He quietly observed, picking up on tiny details that others would’ve missed. In seemingly no time at all, he’d identified all of your nervous habits, and knew exactly when to ask if you were okay.
And after Bucky knew for certain that he was safe with you, he opened up. He unlocked the vault in his mind that held every gory, gruesome detail of his time at Hydra and let you rifle through his memories. But you never pushed him. The two of you talked through his decades as the Winter Soldier at his pace, and when it grew to be too much, you were there to bring him back to the present. You had a way of grounding Bucky that made him feel more present than he had in years, saving him from the spirals and rabbit holes that often held him hostage.
It became glaringly obvious to you that Bucky had been suffering in silence ever since joining the team, opting to keep his pain to himself rather than trust someone with his secrets. But things were different with you. He couldn’t believe how easy it was to trust you, to let his guard down and be completely and utterly vulnerable.
After you took his hand the first time, Bucky realized just what he’d been missing out on. He hadn’t been aware of how desperately he needed human touch, how safe the affection of another person could make him feel.
It was this physical comfort that saved him from his nightmares night after night, bringing him peace he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. Before getting close with you, Bucky dealt with them alone. He’d eventually scream himself awake, his heart pounding in his chest while cold sweat dripped from his brow. You’d heard him every night since moving in, but only when you knew he felt safe enough with you did venture into his room.
-----Nine Months Ago-----
As they did every night, Bucky's tortured screams startled you awake. All you knew was that he needed help, and you weren’t going to let him go without it. Reflexively, you ran from your room and burst through his door, anxious to rescue Bucky from his demons.
His strong form thrashed beneath his sheets, cold sweat dampening his forehead. His screams were full of a tortured anguish you’d never experienced before, and the sound of his cries sent shivers down your spine. With a quick flip of a switch, you turned on the lamp by Bucky’s bedside, filling the room with a soft glow. Your gentle hands rested against his shoulders, adding only a tiny fraction of pressure as you called out to him.
“Bucky. Bucky, hey. Wake up. You’re okay-”.
Suddenly, Bucky’s eyes flew open. They were glassy with tears and wide with fear as he stared at you, unbridled alarm still coursing through his veins. His chest rose and fell at an increasingly fast rate, and he did his best to orient himself, but couldn’t seem to get his head on straight.
“Buck…” you reached for his hand slowly and took it in yours, grounding him in the present moment, “you’re okay- it’s me. You’re safe. It was just a nightmare.”
With that, Bucky slowly let his muscles relax. He stared down at his hand resting in yours, relishing in the sensation of your warmth. Just like that, he felt safe. He leaned forward until his forehead rested upon your shoulder, mumbling a quiet “thank you” as he tried to catch his breath.
“Want me to stay with you a while?”
Bucky nodded almost immediately.
“Then I’ll stay,” you gave his hand a squeeze, “I’ll sit here for as long as you need”.
But Bucky didn’t want you to just sit at his bedside. “Do you, uh…” he lifted the covers and invited you into his bed- something he hadn’t done since the 40’s. “Would it be better for you to lay down? It’s the middle of the night…I’m sure you’re tired”. You gave him a pointed look, silently asking if he was sure, and he delivered a confident nod.
With you under the sheets next to him, Bucky felt like he was home. But his demons still clawed at the corners of his mind, chipping away at the sense of peace you brought him. They thrashed and screamed behind the protective walls your presence built, desperate to break free and tear Bucky to shreds.
He wanted to ask you to hold him, to wrap your arms around him and keep him safe, but he never wanted to make you uncomfortable. He opted to simply hold your hand, squeezing it every few seconds to bring himself back to the present.
“Do you- Is there anything else I can do?” you looked over at Bucky and clocked his tense jaw, “If you just need a hand to hold, I’m more than happy to help. But…do you need, like, a hug? Do you want me to- to maybe hold you for a while? Or is that too much for you?” Relief flooded Bucky’s expression as you read his mind, “it’s not too much. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
With your arms spread wide, you welcomed Bucky into your embrace. His head lay nestled against your neck while your arms wrapped tightly around his broad shoulders, protecting him from the outside world. An almost imperceptible shaking rattled his entire body, the adrenaline still ravaging him from the inside. The shaking stopped, however, when your gentle words and soft touch guided Bucky back to a restful sleep.
And so began the nightly routine. Every night you’d fall asleep in your room, only to be woken by Bucky’s screams. And just like that, you’d rush to his side and provide him with the comfort and safety he needed. The two of you would always fall asleep together after that, waking every morning tangled in each other’s embrace. You did your best to convince yourself that, if you went to bed in your room first, sleeping in Bucky’s bed for the second half of the night was completely innocent. But not even you believed that lie.
The two of you held great affection for each other, and no one had ever made you feel the way Bucky did- but you couldn’t tell him that. He was always overly grateful for everything you did for him, but he had no idea what he did for you every day. He was so kind, so empathetic, so understanding. He just wanted to be there for you, to make you smile when you were down. Bucky knew exactly how to make you laugh. And when you needed a shoulder to cry on, he was there. His arms felt like home, like nothing could hurt you if he was holding you. He knew everything about you and accepted you for exactly who you were, just as you did for him.
But Bucky had a hard time understanding how you could actually be okay with his scars, both mental and physical. And so he opted to keep the physical scars under wraps. He never let you see the damage Hydra did to his body, never let you get even a glimpse of his abused form.
The first time you laid eyes on the reminders of his past, it was completely by accident. Bucky kicked himself for not being careful enough, not shielding you from his ‘disgusting’ deformations- but it only brough the two of you closer.
-----Six Months Ago-----
With your duffel bag slung over your shoulder, you stepped inside the quinjet and thanked the universe that your mission was finally over. But just as you entered the cabin, Bucky’s deep blue eyes met yours in a look of terror. He stood a few feet away, almost hidden in the back of the jet, his top half completely bare. His insecurities screamed at him, begged him to put his tactical vest back on and obscure the gruesome evidence of his past- but he couldn’t move.
He was completely and utterly frozen with shame, his scars on full display.
To Bucky, they were hideous. The raised, uneven skin that told the story of his time at Hydra disgusted him more each day. Evidence of bullet wounds and knives taken to the torso littered his upper half, illustrating just how hard his life was as the Winter Solider. Bucky’s eyes flicked down momentarily, eyeing the biggest scar of the bunch. It ran the entire expanse of his shoulder, tightly hugging the seam of his vibranium arm.
It was gnarly and jagged, knotted and deep.
Bucky watched you and waited for you to react with horror- maybe even gag- but you remained silent. Your eyes flicked slowly over his abdomen as you took in each and every mark that made Bucky who he was. And when your gaze finally landed on the long scar that fused flesh to metal, he cringed.
With cautious steps, you closed the gap between the two of you. Tension buzzed in the air as Bucky’s stomach tied itself in knots, and he was certain the anxiety of it all would make him throw up. He knew you were kind and understanding, but the proof of his Hydra days was enough to make even the nicest person uncomfortable. It was almost too easy for Bucky to convince himself that the mere sight of his scars would leave your friendship dead in the water, but he was wrong.
You cautiously reached out a hand in the direction of his chest, stopping a few inches from the surface of his skin. Bucky wanted to say no, to reject your gesture- but the deep seeded need for comfort won his internal debate. He needed the gentle touch, the warmth of your hand, the peace brought on by physical connection with someone he cared about.
Unable to speak, Bucky nodded.
The pads of your fingers met his skin lightly at first, eliciting a quiet gasp from his chest. The sound filled you with regret and you almost moved your hand away completely, fearing you’d taken things a step too far.
But Bucky didn’t want you to stop.
He couldn’t believe how good it felt, allowing someone to gently touch the abused parts of himself. He’d known only excessive force for decades, and never imagined he’d experience gentleness again. But the way your hand gently ghosted along his skin gave him goosebumps. Your very touch left warmth in its wake and broke down the thick wall Bucky had built to protect himself. A deep, primal sigh of relief left his lips as you added your other hand into the mix, allowing it to gently lay against his largest scar.
“Were you nervous about me seeing these?” you stared up into his eyes, recognizing the fraction of worry that remained in his expression.
Once, more Bucky gave you a nod.
“I know you’re a good person- I know that you wouldn’t judge me. But I just- I really don’t want you to see me differently”. He let out a huff as he stared down at his marred chest, “I know they’re…unpleasant to look at. They’re pretty disgusting. And I thought that if you saw them, you’d be scared. I was afraid you’d put distance between us- I don’t want that”.
One hand left Bucky’s chest and moved up to his face, resting gently against his cheek. He leaned into the gesture almost immediately, desperate for as much physical contact as possible.
“They’re not disgusting, Buck. They’re you. Everything about you- even the stuff you don’t like- makes you who you are”. Bucky’s eyes flicked toward the floor. “I don’t want you feeling like you have to hide part of yourself,” you let one finger drag lazily between a few smaller marks near his clavicle, “we should play connect the dots with them. Who knows- maybe they form something cool? Like a velociraptor. Or a pretzel”.
Bucky’s eyes rolled so far back in his head that you feared they’d get stuck there- but he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. His arms wrapped you in a bear hug and pulled you flush against his scarred chest, enveloping you in the warmth of his embrace. Your hands snaked up his spine, taking inventory of the scars that littered his back and shoulders.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed about the scars- or anything from your past. Especially not with me. Okay?”
With you around, Bucky felt like a new man. Your presence warmed him from the inside out and made the hollow feeling that he'd plagued him for decades a thing of the past. He still flinched every now and then- out of instinct- when you raised a hand to play with his hair or rub his shoulders. Seeing him wince preemptively broke your heart every time, but the instances of fear slowly became less frequent.
He never had to wonder if he was safe with you- he knew. He trusted you not to hurt him; something he couldn’t say about anyone else. His defenses lowered a bit more each time he spent time with you, each time he felt your gentle hands raking through his hair or rubbing the length of his spine. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, he didn’t feel like he had to protect himself. With you lying next to him, there was no need for hypervigilance.
You seemed to erode his defenses over time, like the ocean wearing away at a jagged cliff. Only one of his many defense mechanisms remained in place, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he felt comfortable letting it go.
-----The Months Ago-----
Bucky had worn a pained expression all day, but wouldn’t give you a clue as to the cause. He sat through his debriefing, a team meeting, and dinner with Wanda and Sam, all while doing his best to hide his discomfort. But he couldn't hide it from you. You knew him too well, too intimately, to but the manufactured facade that covered his pain like a mask.
It wasn’t until the two of you were alone in his room that he finally came clean. He dropped down onto his bed, grimacing the second his body hit the mattress.
“Buck? Can you talk to me? You’re clearly in pain- what’s going on?” You joined him on the bed cautiously, careful not to shake or jostle him in any way. His stormy blue eyes stared up at you and he did his best to prop himself up on his metal elbow- but faltered almost instantly.
“It’s my arm…” he lifted the vibranium limb ever so slightly, wincing as he did so. The look of confusion you wore would’ve made Bucky laugh- if it weren’t for the agonizing pain. “It’s not the arm itself- I mean, the arm is what’s hurting me. It rubs against my scar sometimes. It digs into the skin and puts pressure on what’s left of my joint”. He fell quiet for a moment and let his eyes drift downward until he found the courage to speak up once again.
“Is it okay if I- would you mind if I take it off?”
You cocked your head to the side, “Buck, it’s your arm. You don’t have to ask me permission-”
“No, I know. I just mean…I actually think I'd feel okay not wearing it around you, like I don’t need it. I know I don’t have to protect myself. But I don’t want to make you feel weird.”
Your fingers ran slowly through his long hair, gently scratching at his scalp like you often did. “It won’t make me feel weird- I want you to be comfortable. If not wearing it will make you feel better, then I want you to take it off.”
A small smile crept across Bucky’s face. He sat up slowly, grimacing as his metal arm dug into his scar tissue. His right hand moved upward, ready to undo the mechanisms that locked his arm in place- and then he stopped. He shot you a look, silently asking if you were sure, and your reassuring smile was all he needed.
His fingers worked nimbly to detach the arm from his body, a deep sigh of relief escaping his lips when the heavy vibranium dropped onto the bed.
The reminders of his past- his arm, his scars- brought him both physical and mental pain on a daily basis. With your help, the voice in his head that called him a monster fell almost completely silent.
When he looked in the mirror and ran his eyes over the version of himself that Hydra created, he couldn’t help but feel a little more at peace. You slowly helped him accept that he’d never be the bright-eyed kid from Brooklyn he once was, and he was okay with that. Together, the two of you found a way to help him grow comfortable with the scars that littered his body and the weapon that served as his left arm.
But something nagged at him.
He’d grown to accept his new reality, but there was one thing left over from his time at Hydra that wasn’t permanent.
Bucky awoke suddenly, his head leaving its resting place on your chest.
“Buck? Hey, is everything okay?” you stared down at him, your hand still tangled in his long locks.
His intensity alarmed you. Only seconds ago, he'd been fast asleep without a care in the world- but a deep sense of urgency now set his eyes aflame. He quickly sat up and took a deep breath, the gears in his mind turning at an unmatched speed. He had a nervous energy buzzing around him that set you on edge. But just as you opened your mouth ask yet again what was wrong, he blurted out the reason for his unrest.
“I want to cut my hair.”
Admittedly, you hadn’t expected Bucky’s hair to be the cause of his sudden outburst. He’d taken you so off guard that all you could do was stare at him and simply repeat what he’d said.
“You…want to cut your hair?”
Bucky gave you a nod. “I’ve been thinking about it, and when I look in the mirror, I don’t look like me. I look like…him. I don't recognize myself. I can deal with the arm, and you’re making me feel better about the scars. I can’t change those things about myself- I’ll always have to have a replacement for my arm, and the scars aren’t going away, regardless of the serum. But the hair…it’s not me. I don’t…”
He swallowed hard, “I don’t want to look like the Winter Soldier anymore”.
All this time, you’d been so focused on helping Bucky find peace with the permanent side effects of his time at Hydra- but you hadn’t even considered the easiest fix. His long hair was a holdover from Hydra’s neglect, a sign of how little they cared about him. At no point did they think to give him the grooming he deserved, whether he was under cryo or fully alert. You thought maybe no one could get close enough to him while armed with scissors, but if they ordered him not to kill the barber, he’d obey. But you supposed that, just maybe, letting his hair grow was better than forcibly shaving his head and erasing even more of his identity.
“Of course, Buck. Let’s…” you reached for your phone and began searching the internet for barber shops in the area, “I’ll make you an appointment somewhere. We can-”
“I want you to do it.”
The phone slipped from your hand. Your eyes flicked up to meet Bucky’s but he didn’t crack a smile or give you a laugh- he was serious. “I’m not- I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to cut hair, Buck. I tried to give myself bangs once and the results were…disastrous”.
But Bucky didn’t care.
“Please? I trust you…" he ran a hand through his soon to be shorn locks, "I only trust you”.
And that was all the convincing you needed. It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the night; only moments later, you'd gathered clippers and a pair of scissors, ready to give Bucky a makeover. He watched you in the mirror as you took inventory of his long locks. Your gentle hands moved through his hair, weaving their way in and out while you decided on a plan of attack.
“Okay. Um…” your hands slid down and rested on his shoulders, “we’re gonna- I’m gonna start with the scissors and you know, make it shorter. And then just, like, clean it up with the clippers? I guess?”
Bucky chuckled at your nervous stammering. His cold hand snaked upward to meet one of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze as your nerves bubbled over.
“It doesn’t have to be perfect- it doesn’t even have to be good. I just want to look like me.”
“Well, you’re gonna look like you, but with a shitty haircut”.
He eyed your hand as you reached for the scissors, a familiar sense of dread filling his chest when the sharp blades caught the light. His instincts wanted him to disarm you, to rip the scissors from your hands and prevent you from coming near him with the pointed metal. But he fought against the reflex. He did his best to remain calm, but his shaky breathing caught your attention. Slowly, you replaced the scissors on the bathroom counter.
“I know you’re not gonna hurt me…it’s just a reflex”, Bucky spoke with his head down, still trying to get a handle on his anxiety, “It's just- I see someone with what could be a weapon, and the training tries to take over automatically- no matter what”.
“That’s okay. Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. We can-”
“Yes. I’m sure. Please, I trust you”.
And so began the transformation.
Armed with a pair of scissors, you slowly moved in the direction of Bucky’s long hair. His shoulders tensed and his brow furrowed as the blades got closer, and it took everything in you not to tear up.
“You’re doing great, Buck. Take a deep breath for me, okay?”
He did as you asked- just as you made the first cut. Slowly and carefully, you cut away at Bucky’s soft locks. The tension in his jaw seemed to let up ever so slightly as your familiar hands weaved their way through his hair like they had so many times before.
He kept his head down and his eyes closed, forcing himself to keep his breathing steady as the scissors carved their way through his long strands. He was doing so well, staying so calm and still for you. It was only when you heard a quiet sniffle that you put the scissors down.
“Buck? Hey, what’s going on?” you knelt at his feet, your hands resting on his knees, “talk to me. Do you regret doing this? Cause we can stop. I’ll just-”
He raised his head for the first time since your started cutting and met your eyes with his tearful stare. “I’m fine- I’m better than fine. This is…these are good tears. I’ve been thinking about this for so long. I’m just- please, would you keep going?” He flashed you a small, reassuring smile that launched you back into action.
There were a few pauses here and there for you to watch YouTube tutorials and look up tips from experts. When you finished with the scissors, a deep sigh of relief left Bucky’s chest. He leaned his head back for a moment and rested it against your body, smiling to himself as your familiar warmth set him at ease. But the loud buzzing of the clippers set him on edge once again.
Even though you’d warned him of the incoming noise, a sharp flinch pulled his muscles into hard lines as the sound vibrated inside of his skull. You quickly shut the clippers off, reinstating the peaceful quiet. But Bucky didn’t want you to stop.
“It’s okay- I’m fine. You can turn them back on…” he said with his head bowed, “I need this”.
And so you turned the clippers back on, once again filling the small room with noise. Bucky flinched ever so slightly as the sound grew closer to his head, but found all the comfort he needed in your free hand resting against his shoulder. His metal hand reached up, laying atop yours and giving it a squeeze for an extra dose of security. this jaw remained tense as the clippers worked their way up and down his scalp, but your hand resting under his was all he needed. And when you were finally finished, his new style actually looked pretty decent.
“Um, okay. I’m done. Give it a look- tell me what you think…” you waited with bated breath for Bucky to finally give his new image peek. It took him a long moment for him to gather the courage to face himself; he’d been forced into change so many times, and now that it was on his own terms, it was somehow scarier. With a deep breath, Bucky faced the mirror.
More tears welled in his eyes and cascaded down his cheeks as he took in the final product. He couldn’t believe it- he actually recognized himself. Staring back at him wasn’t a tortured killer, it was the James Buchanan Barnes he used to know. He was quiet as he stared at himself in the mirror. His gaze never wavered, almost as though he feared that if he blinked or looked away, this version of him would cease to exist yet again. He slowly ran his hand through his short tresses, feeling more like himself than he had in years.
His quiet stare made you nervous. You didn’t want to ruin the moment, but you couldn’t stop yourself from piping up, “Do you like it? If not, I can go find one of the guys, maybe they can-”
“The last time I looked like this, I was following Steve onto a Hydra train…”
The room filled with an eerie silence as Bucky thought back on that fateful day. He swore he could still feel the ice cold wind whipping across his face, the sensation of falling without any hope of a safe landing. A small shiver crawled up his spine, and you feared he may lose himself in the violent flashback. But a sudden light in his eyes gave you hope.
Bucky quickly turned around and enveloped you in a hug so tight you saw stars. He whispered thanks into the crook of your neck over and over again as the weight of the moment overwhelmed him completely. The two of you remained locked in each other’s arms for a few long moments, breathing together as Bucky regained his composure. The emotion of it all was almost too much but, as always, your presence brought Bucky back to earth, back to the present.
“Thank you. I know I just said it like a hundred times but…” Bucky pulled away and ran a hand through his hair, “thank you for doing this for me”.
The two of you walked hand in hand back to bed, exhausted from the 3am catharsis. Bucky’s head rested against your sternum as your ran your hand through his hair, getting accustomed to the new cut. Bucky’s body begged him to sleep, but he resisted the pull of rest. He had things he needed to say to you that were far more important than rest- but couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact. Instead, his head remained on your chest, your heartbeat bringing him peace as he spoke.
“I can’t thank you enough. For everything. I never thought…I didn’t think I’d get to have someone like you in my life- someone so patient and kind and understanding. You’re just good. I hope you know how much you mean to me, how much I appreciate you. You changed my life. And I don’t know how much longer I have left, you know? But I’m glad I’ve gotten to spend even a little bit of my time on earth with you”.
And now it was you who couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. A few tears welled in your eyes and dripped down your cheeks, dampening your shirt. Bucky heard the uptick in your heartbeat as your emotions swelled, but didn’t point it out. He simply held you a little tighter, waiting until you were ready to speak- and even then, all you managed was a shaky “I’m always here for you, Buck.”
The two of you finally drifted off to sleep, your bodies tangled together in a safe embrace. For Bucky, getting close to you was never about anything other than being your friend. He didn’t open up to you in the kitchen that night because he suspected that you might’ve been able to help him wade through the dark waters of his past- from the very first smile you shot his way, he was hooked. It was a happy accident that being near you helped him learn how to trust again, to accept himself for who he was and who he could be.
And your goal was never to fix Bucky- he wasn’t broken. People joked about him being a problem to be solved or a question to be answered, but you simply saw him as a quiet, tormented man who didn’t deserve even a fraction of what he’d gone through. But when he started to thaw out, to grow comfortable with the idea of closeness with another human being, you realized just how good the two of you were for each other. Watching Bucky slowly rediscover who he was with you by his side felt like watching a chrysalis crack open at the beginning of spring.
Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @mrsdrysdale18 @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @cwbucky @duchessoftheheart @seitmai @itvy5601 @hisxsoulmate @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @masteroflightningz @evangeliamerryll 💜
I edited these beautiful pics of Sebastian from Los Angeles-The Envelope 🤍 The full part isn’t out yet.
It’s always really funny to me that in the past, when I saw posts about Bucky in other sections of the fandom, he was almost always presented as this suave guy who is able to do literally anything... He’s so cool and handsome, with basically no flaws. Even if he did something bad it was never his fault in the end, because he has an excuse of being traumatized. (Which – to be honest – is one of the main reasons I have a problem with admitting I like this character.)
But then you have a Sambucky fandom where 90% of the people looked at Bucky and were like: “Yeah... he’s a little fucked up and kinda stupid, but we like to keep him around :) Sam’s into weird and very strong people anyway, so it’s a perfect match! As long as he loves Sam it’s enough.”
The fact that most fans who actually like Sambucky never tried to act as if Bucky can do no wrong is genuinely a huge part of this ship’s appeal for me.
Another one just came to mind before sleeping from nightshift😅😂, I don't know if you did Bodyguard Bucky? Cause that would be 😘😊😆
haven't done bodyguard bucky yet!! so that's exciting!! thank you for the request <3
bucky moodboards list
bucky, throwing stones at sam’s window: SAM! SAM!
sam: you have a phone for a reason, you know?
sam: DID YOU JUST THROW YOUR FUCKING PHONE-
𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑
Part 1 | Part 2
➵ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | Rebecca is ready to go to college, but Bucky isn’t sure he’s ready for her to leave.
➵ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | dad!Bucky x reader (ft. Rebecca Barnes)
➵ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2.3k
➵ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | some sadness, mostly fluff and Bucky being the ultimate dad.
დ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢
Bucky set down the final box- full of clothes, or was it bedding? He’d been bringing in so many unlabeled boxes, he wasn’t sure what was in the dorm and what was still in the car. Rebecca was a little scatterbrained- like him. She saw no point in labeling most things unless they were incredibly fragile, but she’d take that in herself to make sure they wouldn’t break.
He glanced over at his daughter, stacking up plates in her cabinet with you right next to her. Her new roommate hadn’t arrived yet, due to Rebecca wanting to be incredibly early. Her designated move-in time was 12, but all three of you had been sitting in the dorm parking lot since 11. Talking about how Rebecca wanted to decorate the dorm, her plans to take her roommate out to lunch to get to know her. Everything about college that she was so excited for. She’d turned into such a lovely young woman. A carbon copy of you- down to the way she acted. She was a spitting image, and he had you to thank for raising her to be the woman she is now. He had only a fraction to do with it- due to some unforeseen circumstances, you were with her from the very beginning. If he had the choice, he would’ve been there too.
Bucky insisted on carrying everything into the dorm, up the three flights of stairs (because he insisted it was much faster than the elevator) as you and Becca organized and decorated. His strength was slipping with age- back before the Snap, he would’ve been able to carry five- hell, six- boxes at once. Now, he couldn’t do more than three. Maybe he wanted to carry them all in to prove that he could still do it. But after a few trips, he found himself winded. It was worth it, though. Every time he walked through the door, though he was tired, he gave a smile at the sight of you and Rebecca decorating, listening to Rebecca talk about her classes. It was all worth it. The bond you two shared was one he adored more than anything in the world.
“Is that the last one?” you asked Bucky as he stretched, trying to alleviate the pain in his back. He nodded, gently pulling you closer to him so you’d wrap his arms around him. He loved being in your embrace, whether he was in pain or not.
“Dad, there’s a fancy grocery store just a couple miles from here!”
Bucky smiled at his daughter’s excitement, remembering the first time Rebecca called him dad. How much it meant to him, even though she was probably unaware of the weight it carried.
Rebecca had never referred to him by name. She never even called him Bucky or James. For the first two months after his return. Then suddenly, it happened.
You and Bucky had been making dessert, watching Bucky pile on the whipped cream. “Calm down, save some for the rest of us,” you joked.
He stopped briefly, looking you in the eyes before messily spraying the whipped cream in his mouth, half of it landing right on his upper lip. “Alright,” he said, “but before you make your dessert, can I have a kiss?”
“Bucky-” you scoffed.
“What? I was gone for five years, deprived of all the kisses you could’ve given me in that time. I’m just asking for one right now.” he said calmly, which made you laugh.
He leaned in closer, you worried the whipped cream would get on your face. You let out a squeal as you tried to escape, but it was too late. He kissed your cheeks, your mouth, your nose, leaving traces of the sweet cream all over your face. “I’m gonna strangle you!” you laughed, searching for a paper towel to clean yourself off.
“Then I’ll die a happy man,” he smiled, a whipped cream mustache still on his upper lip. He grabbed another paper towel to wipe it off.
A six-year-old Rebecca laughed, having witnessed the whole thing from the living room. “You and Daddy are so funny,” she said.
You didn’t realize it at first, but Bucky did. He noticed right away. He noticed because he’d been trying for ages to get Rebecca to call him that. She knew he was her dad, but for some reason she never said it. He’d been waiting, not wanting to pressure her into it but also growing a little needy. He remembered making breakfast for her one morning, simply asking, “Becca, who am I?”
She responded, “Mommy said that if I’m ever lost, I should say your name is James Buchanan Barnes,”
He suppressed a laugh- of course you taught her that. Of course it was important for her to know her father’s name in case she ever got lost- but a part of him knew that you also told her because anyone would be absolutely insane to think they could get away with letting anything bad happen to the Winter Soldier’s daughter. But still, he persisted. “I know, but who am I to you?”
Rebecca shrugged, “You and Mommy kiss sometimes, and you take care of me when she’s gone,”
Bucky smiled, “Yeah, and what does that make me?” he asked, pointing the spatula he was using to cook Becca’s pancakes at himself.
There was silence. The word was right there, why couldn’t Becca say it?
My dad. You’re my dad.
But when the silence lasted a little too long, he simply nodded understandingly, returning to the pan. “It’s okay. It’s alright.” he couldn’t tell if he was saying it to her or himself. He knew he would be hurting his own feelings by asking, so he didn’t push it any further.
So when she sat there, so happy to say it, he wanted nothing more than to fall to his knees and erupt in tears of happiness. But instead, he made his way over to his daughter, scooping her up in his arms and attacking her with kisses.
“Ahhh! Daddy stop! That tickles!” Rebecca laughed, your heart growing ten times bigger.
He’ll always look back on that day and smile- now here she was, such a gorgeous young woman. Though he still wished she was still that little girl, clinging onto his leg and eventually persuading him to read to her every night, even when she was old enough to read herself. Part of him still wished he could still wake her up in the morning and be the first person she saw through her sleepy eyes and messy hair. To make her breakfast and insist that the cereal she wanted was too sugary.
But then he’d be keeping her from being the woman she was now. She was so smart, wise beyond her years, and so kind. He was so proud of what she’d become.
Rebecca glanced over the dorm, then looked back up at her parents. “Well, I think I’ve got it from here.”
Bucky’s jaw nearly dropped. That’s it? Just like that, she wanted them to leave? He looked over at you. Your eyes said the same thing. You weren’t ready to say goodbye just yet, but he knew you’d never say it.
“You don’t want us to help you unpack? Or get lunch? I can drive to that grocery store if you want, you can get whatever you like-”
“James,” you said, your voice low. You grabbed his hand, “I think Becca is ready to be on her own.”
Rebecca nodded, an anticipating smile on her face. But something about it seemed off. If there was anyone he could read like a book, it was his own daughter. After all, she was half of him.
James thought it over for a second, nodding and deciding against the emotional goodbye he was planning. No- clearly Rebecca wasn’t as torn over leaving as he was. “Right,” he said. He just decided to rip the band-aid off. Say goodbye quickly and get to the car. Maybe then he’d shed a couple tears, but now clearly wasn’t the time. “Bye, kiddo.” He gave her a hug that was too quick, then turned away to shake off any emotion that might’ve shown on his face as you took your turn to say goodbye.
“I love you, and I’m so proud of you. Tell me all about your first day.” you said, pulling away after giving your daughter a light kiss on her temple.
“Bye, drive safe.” Rebecca said, waving as you and Bucky exited the dorm room. You and Bucky got one last look at your grown daughter, smiling and waving goodbye before you closed the door. It was eerily quiet in the hallway.
“And just like that, there were two.” you said, equally as shocked and heartbroken as Bucky. You grabbed onto his hand, sensing he needed your touch.
“I just can’t believe she just… kicked us out like that.” Bucky muttered as the two of you made your way to the elevator. The two of you walked slowly, hoping Rebecca would pop her head out one more time to say goodbye or even ask you a question. You were hoping for anything. But she didn’t.
“Our little girl is all grown up,” you said as the elevator door opened.
“God, I thought that was gonna kill me,” Bucky sighed. You rested your head on his shoulder.
As the doors slowly began to close, you caught a glimpse of a familiar young brunette leaving a dorm room.
“Dad! Mom!” Rebecca called, sounding like she was in distress. With his metal arm, Bucky stopped the door from closing and nearly ran to his daughter. You followed, not too far behind.
Tears were streaming down her face. Her beautiful skin was puffy, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around her father the second he was within arm’s reach. “I’m so scared, Daddy,” she sobbed, “I don’t want go grow up yet,”
Just when he thought the first goodbye wasn’t going to kill him- this happened. Bucky could feel his soul split in two at his daughter’s words. As if she didn’t already have a piece of him the second he first met her. Slowly over her life, she’d been taking pieces of him. He figured one day, he’d give her that final piece of his heart. She could do what she wanted with it- keep it locked away in a box, give it to any child she has over time like he did with her. Whatever she wanted to do with it, he didn’t care. Because Rebecca was his reason for getting up every morning. For living- for being. There was nothing in this world that could come close to the love he had for her. It was something he didn’t even know he was capable of feeling.
If this didn’t kill him, he wasn’t sure what would.
“It’s okay, Bug. I promise. You’re gonna do great things. You already make me so proud. I love you so much.”
“But what if something happens? What if I fail a class? Who’s going to tell me that I can’t have chocolate for breakfast or protect me from boys?”
“I’ll still do that, Bec, but you gotta learn to do things on your own. I promise you, if you’re anything like me- no, if you’re anything like your mom… doing things on your own will be a piece of cake.”
You smiled, wiping a few stray tears away at your husband’s words.
Rebecca nodded, eyes cheeks still stained with tears. “I love you, Dad.”
It was then that Bucky realized he was crying, too. “I love you more, Becca. Remember that book I used to read to you when you were little? I’ll love you forever…”
Rebecca nodded, “I’ll like you for always,” she continued.
“As long as I’m living, bug,” he added, wiping the lingering tears from his daughter’s face, “my baby you’ll be.” He kissed her forehead, bringing her in for one more hug. He hated not having that little baby girl anymore, but he was so excited for the Rebecca she was going to become. Majoring in finance, exploring new parts of the city, living on her own and becoming an adult. Even if she didn’t think she was, Bucky knew she was ready for everything to come.
After a few moments, Rebecca pulled away, much calmer. Bucky grabbed onto your hand, saying goodbye one final time before leaving the dorm room.
“She’s gonna make me so proud, hon.” Bucky said to you, hopping into the elevator once again. His eyes were slightly red. He sniffled a little as the elevator reached the lobby of the residence hall.
“So proud.” You repeated, squeezing Bucky’s hand and exiting the building. The two of you returned to the car, once filled with boxes and bags and was a vessel for your impromptu road trip karaoke session with Rebecca, was now quiet and empty.
You remembered the days when Rebecca’s attitude bit you, and mid-argument, you’d think to yourself about how much you couldn’t wait for her to go off to college. How you couldn’t wait for her to get out of your hair- but now that the day was finally here, you wished you could take all those thoughts back.
Because now she was gone, and everything felt different.
“I guess we just… go home now, right?” you asked. The car stayed off. The engine wasn’t running, the keys weren’t even in the ignition yet.
“I guess so,” Bucky said. As he was beginning to start the car, you both received notifications on your phones.
A text message from Becca, where she added both of you to a group message with her.
I’ll love you forever.
She added a heart emoticon. You looked up, noticing the sweet smile on Bucky’s face.
“That’s our girl,” you heard Bucky say.
She would have your heart forever, for always, and as long as you were living.
Your girl, Rebecca Barnes.
A Jealous!bodyguard!Bucky thought
Tbh this is low-key filth, low-key something off the top of my head. Enjoy!💕
Minors do not interact you will be blocked
Okay so imagine you both dancing around some sort of thick sexual tension that You've both had ever since he had started working for your parents. He’s this hefty, 6ft somthing, statue brought to life, wearing those black shirts that have to be holding on for dear life against his frame.
He’s paid to be with you practically 24/7, to keep you safe, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care for your life more than a paid personal bodyguard should. You both know it’s off limits, that neither of you should harbour the thoughts you have, but somehow that makes it all the more fun. Especially when You’ve got this utterly sinful look in your eye, and he’s so obviously finding it hard to restrain himself.
Even when your staying at your parents vacation home, choosing some time in the sun over what feel like endless mountains of paperwork. But god you've just been a brat since the moment you touched down on the island, choosing to push his buttons, to wear the skimpiest bikinis, all to see just how far you could go before ultimately, he gives in.
And then you decided that there was nothing more you needed than cocktails, and not those made by any staff in the house. Claiming you just needed to get out, to go out for a few drinks at a bar like any normal person does on vacation. Bucky begrudgingly agrees but let's be honest he would need a drink or 5 to deal with you.
Until you get a little too flirty with the bartender. Purposely getting far to touchy and way to slutty. So Bucky doesn’t hesitate, grabbing your bicep and practically dragging you over to an empty bathroom, as his breath puffs out agitated grunts of air. He’s mad, but god does it send a throb down to your clit. And he finally snaps. Lips snarling forward and meeting yours, body pinned to the locked door by his huge frame.
One moment your your being dragged away and then the next your dress is flipped up over your hips, Bucky a cock splitting you into two.
And god the way he would mock when you got too loud and whiny? "Ah ah, you got y'self into this sweetheart, shouldn'ta been such a brat runnin that filthy little mouth and showing off your slutty little body, but it's alright, y'gonna let me fuck it all outta ya hm? Gonna let me fuck ya stupid honey? Calm ya down?
His thrusts only slow briefly to make a point as he speaks again, tightening a hand around your throat as the other drifts down and rubs at your clit. "Yeah, yeah you are. So desperate to get fucked by a big. fuckin. dick. Such a dirty girl all f'me hm?" then the groan he would let out into your ear when you only babble out a sob, hips rutting back towards him, pussy clenching like a vice around his cock in response??
In conclusion.. I wish to be railed by a jealous, mildly possessive Bucky Barnes.
Dying Isn't So Scary with You, Either
BuckyBarnes x female!reader
In which Bucky and Y/N have to put their deep late night conversation to the test.
This is part two of an imagine I posted. I guess it can be read independently, you just won't get all the references.
a/n: sobbing rn, please tell me what you think, because I was so pleased with how the first part came out, and I'm not sure if this one put the feels across just right
word count: 3k
warnings: angst, angst, oh and did I mention angst?, death of a character, mentions of blood, some cussing, and I guess a little fluff
Part One | Part Two
I also recommend listening to 'the same' by mehro when reading this. It's so beautiful, and I listened to it while writing this, too.
The air was drowning in dust and smoke. Rubble of former buildings was surrounding the site and unfolding for the helicopters that were reporting the incident. There was screaming and alarms, motor noises, and explosions. Everything was chaos.
Bucky had about 300 feet of broken cement beneath him, held up by god knows what, just waiting for the next blow to finally rip it apart.
“Take my hand!” He screamed as he reached over the edge of the building, his foot anchoring him to the roof. He was scared - deeply and utterly frightened seeing the person he loved hanging on by a thread.
“I can’t!” Y/N’s voice was broken and disrupted by heavy breathing. Her fingers probably lost feeling after the amount of time they had held onto the metal ledge, where sharp edges tore through her skin. “I can’t reach you, Bucky!” Her eyes glazed over with tears, but there was a determination within them, barely flushed by the salty water.
Bucky looked around frantically. “Hold on just a little longer!” The sound of blood rushing in his ears trumped the sounds of distant ambulances and helicopters and made everything seem like white noise. He had only one focus: Save Y/N.
"Come on, Bucky. Think," he muttered to himself, angry and frustrated at the same time. He felt so scattered, as though he had no control of his thoughts, spilling worst-case scenarios over him from a big bucket of worry. He couldn't have that now. Looking around, he tried to silence his mind by occupying it with solutions - or the attempt to form them.
There was another building about 20 feet beneath him, if he could get down there, chances were high he could break Y/N’s fall - if she could hold on for that long.
Unfortunately, there was no easy way down to the next building, and Bucky didn’t have time to look for something to help him ascend. So, he peeked over the edge. This was a bad idea. A very stupid, bad idea, but he didn't care about that. It was all he had come up with under the pressure he found himself under.
Watching the depth beneath him and ignoring the mental image of him smacking the floor with his head, Bucky mumbled a last 'fuck it' under his breath.
He took a couple steps backward, shot a look at the sky to take a deep breath, and then he ran. Once he had reached the end of the roof, he jumped forward, leaping to the next roof and falling for the remaining distance down. He rolled over his metal arm after he reached the floor, easing the pain from the impact. When he stood again, he saw Y/N barely hanging onto the metal ledge that reached over him now.
One of her hands slipped as the building she was attached to began to stagger. A high-pitched scream escaped her mouth when she looked down at the 20 feet separating her from steady ground. She tried to get her hand back up, but the moving ledge made it difficult.
“Y/N, I’m right here!” Bucky screamed over the noises that had somehow gotten louder. “Just let go!”
“No!” Her head shook violently. She was scared, too. But Bucky knew that it wouldn’t affect her fighting for her life. She was strong and enduring. He just needed to remind her of that.
“You can do it! I know you can!”
Her eyes were pleading and Bucky could clearly see that she was hoping for another solution to present itself. But there was no other possibility. Y/N slipped further down the ledge as the building tumbled again. It was now or never.
Bucky opened his arms - held them away from him to be able to catch her. How he would really break her fall? - he didn’t know. But one thing was for sure: he would do anything to help her survive this. The serum in his veins had to be good for something. He’d rather break all his bones than see her have to deal with any type of pain - use his stupid powers for something good.
A final explosion ripped through the skyscraper with an ear-shattering ‘peng’, and just as it began to fall, Y/N let go. She fell along with the rubble. But other than the cement chunks, which eventually hit the ground and shattered hundreds of feet beneath Bucky, Y/N fell into a safe embrace. The force of her momentum was strong, and the Super Soldier struggled to protect her from scratches as they rolled across the roof until they came to a standstill. Bucky had cradled her body with his, legs and arms wrapped around her like a life west, her head securely tugged in his chest.
His heartbeat was pounding through his veins ferociously. He could feel it pulsing in his neck, toes, and fingers. It took a couple breaths to subside and finally, after he felt Y/N moving in his grasp, a wave of relief washed over Bucky.
“You did it.” He stammered as he wiped the dust from her forehead. Not that he had doubted her for a second.
“I’m so glad you’re alive.” His statement was followed by a warm kiss on Y/N’s temple before he unwrapped his body from hers. Watching as the tower tumbled to the ground with dust clouds climbing to the sky, Bucky squeezed her hand with his flesh one.
Y/N’s breathing was rapid but steady, the shock of the situation etched onto her face as she watched the chaos she had escaped from. As Bucky squeezed her hand again, her breathing began to slow.
“Thank you.” Y/N averted her gaze from the ruins beneath them to the brunette beside her. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”
A smile painted her features when she got up and pulled him up with the hand still latched in his.
Bucky nodded in acknowledgment. He would have done everything and so much more to help her. And Y/N knew that, too. That’s why he didn’t feel the need to reply. He looked at her for another second, appreciating her lively eyes and warm smile. He could stay like this forever, holding her hand and catching her mesmerizing gaze with his eyes. But sadly, that had to wait until later, when they were safe and sound at the compound again. So Bucky turned around with reluctance, retracting his hand from her heated fingers to search for a way down.
He explored the roof for anything. A fire escape, a door - hell, even a window one story below would have done - but there was nothing. It was a dead end. The sirens surrounding them echoed in his skull, adding to the quickly built frustration of this situation and growing an unbearable headache.
“Fuck!” Bucky’s hands buried in his hair as he paced to another possible exit.
They had made it so far. And now? They let the lack of a ladder stop them. This was ridiculous. There were still people who needed saving, as well as idiots who needed to get their asses kicked. Bucky made another round to check for anything he had missed. He would certainly not be defeated by this inconvenience.
His vibranium hand was pulling on the door of an AC unit until his quest was interrupted by a strained voice.
“Bucky, I-” Y/N started, but her sentence was interrupted as she bent over, pushing her hand under her ribcage.
His instincts were on high alert again, flashing like a big bright 'DANGER' sign. She was in pain, though her expression fought to remain stoic.
Bucky jumped at the sight before him, heading in Y/N’s direction - his prior plan seemingly forgotten. Everything was fine, right? She had made it. She did not fall to her death, he had saved her... right?
He searched her eyes for answers, desperate and hopeful to see her smile. But when Y/N looked up at him, Bucky’s blood ran cold. He had seen that look before. And it meant nothing good.
Her eyes were wide open, her lips pressed together as her jaw wired shut. Darkness spread over her features, pained and unforgiving. There was nothing but utter fear within her usually bright orbs. It took up the color of her irises like a shadow, turning everything stone cold.
“What? What’s the matter?” Bucky’s movements were hectic as he reached for her shoulders, eyes roaming her entire body to figure out what was going on.
Y/N pressed her eyes shut with a grunt. Her knees gave out, and before Bucky knew it, she was falling back to the ground. He leaped forward, desperate to catch her, but just ended up on the floor next to her. He sat up quickly, eyes wide in horror at the body before him. What the hell happened?!
Then, Y/N’s hand moved slightly and that’s when he saw it: crimson red staining her suit in one decently sized blotch, growing bigger by the second.
How did he not notice? How could he have been so careless? Had she been shot? Impaled? Bucky didn’t know. All he saw was red hot blood seeping from her torso. And judging by the look on her face, the adrenaline that had rushed through Y/N’s body just moments prior steadily subsided. This was bad - really fucking bad.
“Y/N, doll, you’re going to be fine, okay?” Panic surged up his spine. He cradled her head in his lap as his metal hand rushed to press on the open wound on her abdomen, drawing a pained hiss from her lips. “I’m so sorry. I’m- Nothing bad’s gonna happen, I promise.” He was trying to convince himself rather than console her at this point. He didn’t know what to do. He always knew what to do in battle, but right now, his mind was swept off rationale as it got occupied by fear.
“Bucky-“ He pushed some hair from her forehead as he looked down. “I will get you to an ambulance. It will be okay, I promise.”
"No, Bucky-“ But his panicked babbling made him unaware of the weak voice coming from her lips.
His head was racing with ways to get her down to the ground. How to move her without excruciating pain, and how to do it quickly before she had lost too much blood. Take the stairs? No, there were no stairs. Wait for a helicopter? Too risky - there was no time. “We could-“
“Bucky.” Y/N’s voice was stern and seemed as though she had put every last bit of strength into his name. His gaze drew back to her face at that - his eyes distressed and helpless. Y/N’s hand found his jaw, stroking it softly and gaining the last of his attention again.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. And there was a certain peace in her features that made goosebumps travel up Bucky’s spine.
“But, but you’re bleeding. You-“ A sob broke through his speech. Something was off, he didn’t know what it was but deep down he felt, it was bad. It made itself known through a horrible feeling that squeezed his insides harshly and painfully.
Y/N smiled. “It doesn’t hurt,” was all she said as her eyes conveyed an uneasy calmness.
“What?” He didn’t know why he asked that dumb question. But in hopes of denying what he thought her words meant, it had slipped his mouth. This couldn’t mean anything good at all. She was hosting a hole the size of a quarter in her body and claimed to feel okay - she clearly wasn’t.
“It’s okay,” she soothed again, her thumb still drawing weak circles on his skin. And even though her hand was warm on his skin, a fast wave of goosebumps spread down his body. It was dread. Burning hot and heart-wrenching fear that settled deep within him.
“No,” Bucky whispered, tears streaming down his face, “we will get you down here, and then we will be back in the compound. Sitting on the roof like last time. Remember?”
This was not the end. He couldn’t accept that. They had defeated death so many times before - it would work this time as well. It had to. There was so much he wanted to experience with Y/N - so many moments in the future he had dreamed of once this was all over. This was not how it was supposed to end. Not here, not now.
But Y/N shook her head weakly, her eyelids looked like they were heavy with sleep.
“No, please,” Bucky’s voice broke as his hand cradled her head tighter to his body, “please don’t leave me.” I don’t know what I’ll do without you, he added in thought - pained and already devastated by the knowledge of what was to come. There was no way he would survive in this world alone - not after he had gotten to experience how life could be… with her.
“I’ll be with you,” Y/N whispered. It was barely audible and everything seemed to happen in slow motion. “Right here,” her hand lowered to his chest, resting on his heartbeat, “remember? It’s the best place I could be, too.” Y/N smiled weakly, her eyes droopy and gray before her breathing began to grow heavy.
“No, no!” His second hand came up to her face, staining her cheek with deep-red blood as he brushed over a single tear falling from the corner of her eye.
“I love you.” Her mouth barely moved, but there was definitely a somewhat representation of a smile in her statement.
Bucky pressed his forehead to hers. “I love you, too. I love you. I love you. I love you,” he muttered like a mantra.
And then her hand fell from his chest. Bucky tried to catch it in time to press it back on his skin, hoping his rapid heartbeat would revive it again, but it was too late. His hand met his chest as his eyes fell on the lifeless wrist beneath him. He clenched his fist in his shirt.
Pain. The most unbearable pain he had ever felt in his entire life. Nothing compared to the things Hydra put him through. This, somehow, felt more real to him. It started out as a mental spark and then transformed into real physical misery. His heart felt squeezed, and it sent sharp shockwaves to the parts of his body that were still touching her, holding her, keeping her safe in vain.
A sudden shiver overcame him as he was slowly pulled from reality. This was all he had now. A part of her soul within him. And he knew exactly where it had settled. Because warmth mixed with the aching in his heart and somehow soothed the rest of his body - strengthening him when he felt like falling apart.
A static overtook his ears then, erasing every other noise in his surroundings. And for the first time, Bucky realized how lonely it was up on the rooftop - when all of the environment was shut down, leaving a tunnel vision leading towards the horizon to unfold before him.
The view was nice - beautiful, even. Y/N would have loved it, Bucky thought as he watched the sun go down beneath the compound. He did that a lot, now. Thinking of the things Y/N would have enjoyed if she were still here. But she wasn’t. And it still broke his heart, it would probably never stop doing that.
“How are you holding up, pal?” Steve’s hand laid on Bucky’s shoulder, and Bucky concentrated on its weight to stay grounded.
“I should have saved her,” he whispered, “I promised her that nothing bad was gonna happen.” And it lay guilty on his chest. He had lied to her. He should have noticed her wound before she even fell off the edge. He should have prevented it, maybe even taken the hit instead of her. But he didn’t. Hell, he couldn’t even remember when it happened that day.
“Hey, everything was chaotic that day. None of us would have noticed.”
This conversation had taken place over and over again during the past few weeks. And even though Bucky was pretty sure that everyone had already grown tired of his moping, Steve didn't let it show at all. He was there, by his side. And he made sure to tell him that that would never stop. Bucky tried to hold onto that promise, but he knew, promises could get broken and fate could be vicious with the people it took from him.
Bucky’s head fell back as he closed his eyes with his arms crossed. He took a deep breath and when he opened them again, they landed in the orange sky above him. He had heard that sentence too many times now. None of us would have noticed. This Super Soldier serum must have been good for something. All his senses were heightened, and yet, it didn’t help him at all. Y/N was gone - at least physically. Bucky grabbed his chest at that thought, feeling for his steady heartbeat, reminding him of the little consolation he carried with him every day.
Steve sat beside him on the roof and watched as Bucky slung his other arm around his knees, looking ahead into the distance.
“You know what they say,” the brunette started low, not averting his gaze from the horizon, “When you die, a piece of your soul stays with the person you spent your last moment with.” His voice was shaky as he recited Y/N’s words.
Steve was silent for a moment, directing his gaze to the setting sun as well.
“You think that’s true?” He asked after a while, curiosity evident in his tone.
And finally, after weeks of grief and sadness, Bucky smiled, as he realized what the answer was. His hand pressed deeper into his chest, rubbing on his shirt slowly. It was warm and it tingled.
“I know it’s true.”
𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖔𝖈𝖊𝖆𝖓 ☆ 𝖇.𝖇𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖊𝖘
pairings– prince!bucky x pirate!f!reader
summary– ripped from the safety of a kingdom he'd rule one day, prince James Buchanan Barnes tries to survive his time on The Golden Rose, the crew members and the captain– you.
warnings– prince bucky is a spoiled, cocky piece of shit, reader couldn't care less, Steve's here. If this flops, it never fucking happened.
|| 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓼𝓲𝓵𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓰𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮 ||
any other day, James Buchanan Barnes would've adored the thought of two woman standing in his bedroom, eyeing him and observing his manly figure as he's dressed in nothing but his undergarment, lusting for the prince and unable to keep their hands to themselves but the point of a sword is digging into the flesh of his chest, awfully close to his heart and the looks upon their faces isn't exactly something bucky would describe as lust, no it was far from what he had dreamed off.
A cold breeze wafts through the big open window, thin curtains dancing in the winds, that must be the way these two ladies had made their way into the castle, his bedroom and the sound of gun fire, fighting and screaming echoes through the darkness of the night, only lit by the flames of fires and explosion.
No, this is not what he'd thought of when celebrating his father's departure into the open sea, sailing away for a month or two or maybe even four.
Bucky had imagined his days without his father's presence to be more…joyful but the dark pupils and merciless looks on the faces of the two strangers standing in his bedroom tells him just how much it's not going to be something joyful.
Even in the comfort of his own home, for the very first time in his life bucky feels unsafe and under the gaze of the short brunette and the red-head, bucky feels naked in nothing but his undergarment. God, his father would laugh knowing his son isn't capable of fighting two girls but in all fairness, who would want to fight someone with a sword to your heart and the barrel of a gun aimed at your head?
But how dare these ladies break into his house and hold him under gun point– if they even could be called ladies, they're acting like men, like..the pirates his mother had told him about when he was younger.
Pirates, yes. The puzzle pieces connect together in mind. The unwashed hair, the dirty clothes and the dirt on their faces– unhygienic, dirty..poor; pirates.
"James Buchanan Barnes?" The brunette speaks up, letting his name roll from her lips as she digs the point of her sword deeper in the skin of his chest– bucky groans at the feel; arousing almost? Good lord he really needs to find himself a wife to please his needs, doesn't he?
"Depends on who's asking," Bucky grins another groan falling from his lips and followed by a hiss of pain as the female pirate– rather pretty he must admit – digs her swords further and further into his flesh, blood staining the fabric around it "is it strange I find this rather..arousing? Now, how about we drop our weapons, get a cup of tea, beer..wine, whatever we please and take you beautiful ladies to bed, have some fun?"
"Do you find yourself funny, barnes?"
"Bucky..you can call me bucky darling and I do in fact find myself rather amusing, though I have the idea you ladies might think otherwise."
"What gave it away, mate?" The red-head behind the brunette speaks up for the first time, brows raised in curiosity.
"Most women laugh at my jokes, I can hardly get a smile from you ladies." Bucky confesses, cockiness dripping thick from his voice.
"We'll be laughing when we get you on the golden rose– get on moving."
The brunette once again pushes her weight slightly against her sword, Bucky barely feels the pain– taking a step back, he quickly looks at the open window and the war zone that takes place in the village down below his bedroom window. His palms getting sweaty as the height between his window and the ground below seems rather big.
Bucky swallows the lump in his throat "down there– you've..I've never climbed down– you ladies have done this before," stumbling not only over his feet, bucky stumbles over his words, stuttering with every step he takes back, the ladies coming closer and closer "at least let me get dressed."
Within the blink of an eye, the red-head snatches some pants from the edge of the bed and tosses them his way "that's enough, put them on and follow our orders before we push you out of that window."
Bucky simply nods, well aware that his charms aren't going to work well with the women standing in front of him. He stumbles over his feet once more as he pushes his legs in his pants and carefully steps over the windowsill and into the cold air. It sends a shiver down his spine. He doesn't know how his limbs move him down the walls of the castle but he thanks whoever built the castle so poorly, the bricks that stick out big enough for his feet to balance on and Bucky doesn't know how he manages to set foot back on solid ground without panicking. He's down and he swallows the lump in his throat once more as he lays his eyes upon the two unconscious men near him, the army his father had gathered over the years.
"Don't worry, they'll live." The brunette surprises Bucky as she too steps down, surprisingly elegant "a broken nose maybe but nobody ever died of that."
Bucky chuckles nervously and shakes his head "not that I'm aware but–" his sentence is cut short when a small hand wraps around his arm rather tight and almost painful and yanks him away, once again making him stumble over his feet as the red-head drags him through the chaos in the village; the screaming wives, crying children, the yelling if men fighting back and the piles of dead and unconscious men. The smell of gunpowder fills his nostrils– his kingdom destroyed before he even has the chance to take his fathers place.
But he doesn't have much time to think about that or anything at all, his eyes are glued to the sight of a ship just a few meters from the docks getting bigger and bigger with each tug of his arm– he hasn't seen a real pirate ship in all the years he's roamed this earth– his eyes widen as the end of the dock seems to be getting too close but before he can even say another word, he's pulled off into the cold water, knocking the air out of his lung, bucky quickly swims up the the surface and gasps for air. Offended and annoyed.
"Swim Barnes," he's shoved forwards by one of the women once again
"Do you even know who I am?" Bucky scoffs in annoyance "this is not how you treat a king."
"These sharks don't care who you are, I'd get swimming if I were you." The brunette says and for the first time upon meeting, bucky sees her lips turn into a wicked smile.
Heavy, water filled boots thud against the wooden deck, clothes dripping and sticking against every part of your body, bandana heavy on your head but you don't mind, the jump into the sea something refreshing, giving your clothes a quick wash and removing the dirt from your face– a dip into the water was a must of once in a while.
You adjust your sword that hangs loosely from its holster and stroll along the side of your ship, watching the little dots floating in the sea becoming clearer as they get closer. The war in the background slowly dies as your ladies come dripping back on board one by one and without any order from you, start to prepare the ship for an easy escape.
Captain. You earned that title years ago. Gained the trust and respect of the crew as just a mere teenager on board the golden rose as the only daughter of the well known Captain y/l/n. Following in his footsteps the day he died, the ship, the crew and the title had been gifted to you that same day. Captain y/n. And though your crew had changed in the last few years, your fleet consisting of ladies only, they all one by one trusted you with their lives.
"Avelyn is on her way with the prince, captain, they'll be here shortly," one of your ladies states as she moves around the ship in a hurry.
You simply nod and let your eyes roam back to the dark open waters, the last few crew members swimming their way back and climbing up the vessel that had become your home.
The Golden Rose, the place where your parents had welcomed you years back and the place where you'd take your last breath. Years you've spend on the decks of the massive ship, nagged your father's crew with your endless mischievous acts, where you climbed the masts and high up in the crows nest whenever you were in trouble, a place where you learned to swim even before you knew how to walk, where you learned how to wield a sword and fire a gun, the place where you grew up, the place that carried you through the bad and the good. Your vessel, your home, you're Golden Rose.
"No– I don't accept this," your gaze, along with that of the crew landing on the soaked man climbing on board "my father will hear about this– I want to speak to the captain."
Struggling to get on his feet, the man stands up straight, bewildered and out of breath. James Buchanan Barnes you suppose, he isn't one of your crew at least. His eyes wander over the large group of people.
"Where are the men and where's the captain– put me back on land– you there!"
You follow his gaze as he point to the only man on board, the broad and tall steve rogers, the man you'd befriended when your mother had taken you of the ship to grow up on land with children alike after your father had passed away and she no longer wanted a life on the strong waves.
"You must be the captain!" Bucky says proudly as if he'd found the missing piece to a puzzle he'd been working on for years but the smile on his face falters quickly when the silence is replaced by loud laughter from every soul on board "What, what's so funny?"
"I'm not the captain, mate." Steve chuckles.
"Well where is he then, he and I have to have a word."
"You want to have a nice cup of tea with that, some rum perhaps?"
The corners of your lips tug into a grin as Bucky slowly turns around to meet your eyes and looks you up and down, not so subtle, and keeps his gaze on your breasts a little longer before they meet your gaze again. He blinks in surprise, lips slightly parted as a fish gasping for air as he tries to find the right words– you can hear the gears turn in his head. You wink before tearing your eyes off the man your girls had captured just moments ago and turn to your crew.
"Hoist the color and bring a spring upon ‘er, let's sail her back onto sea– we're going home!"
Steve, on a mission, texting Bucky in Wakanda
Except they actually did get arrested 😅
Money Power Glory - 5
“Working with the feds now, lovie?”
“Unfortunately. They won’t find out, though.”
“I’d hate it if they did. You’re too pretty to kill.”
James “Bucky” Barnes, New York state’s most infamous organized crime leader since the 1980s. With Bucky weaving through the fingers of local police and the federal government for far too long, they decide to go with plan B: you. Your job? Simple. Relay inside information back to the FBI, slipping through the cracks of Bucky’s fortress of a crime ring as an unknown imposter. The Bureau, however, has no idea you and Bucky are much more acquainted than you let on.
Pairing: Criminal!Bucky Barnes x Informant!Reader
Chapter word count: 5.3k
Chapter warnings: 18+ (SMUT! minors DNI - fingering, choking, slight exhibitionism kink, daddy kink, spanking, oral, yea that’s pretty much it), swearing, we have a small little moment with maria?? another small piece of y/n’s backstory, there may or may not be some inaccuracies with the hotel locations but at the end of the day does it really matter lol
Incessant knocking, followed by the ring of your doorbell. And then some more knocking.
That was what woke you up at six in the morning.
Eyes still blurry with sleep and a soft chill in the early morning air sending goosebumps down your back, you opened your front door and squinted at the tall figure in front of you.
You furrowed your brows. Were you dreaming?
“Yes?” you replied, blinking rapidly to get a better look at the tall man, the early rising sun behind him setting his shoulders and head ablaze with soft orange light.
“I’m sorry to wake you up so early, but-”
The man paused, then gestured behind you. “Could I come in? This isn’t something I should be telling you on your front porch.”
Confused, albeit too sleepy and fog-brained to think about it, you stepped aside and opened the door wider. As the stranger crossed the threshold into your house, you blinked. In hindsight, that probably wasn’t the smartest move, but strangely, there was nothing about him that seemed threatening, even with his considerable build and broad shoulders.
“How do you know my name?” you asked him as you led him towards the living room, voice raspy from disuse.
“It’s a long story.”
You gave him a look, raising your brow. “I have time.”
The corner of his lips tilted in a small smile as he sat down on your couch. You stood in front of him awkwardly, fidgeting with the hem of your sleep shorts as you avoided direct eye contact. It was silent for a few moments, before the two of you began speaking at the same time:
“Sorry, my dad is usu-”
“I need to talk to-”
You both paused, and he gestured for you to go on with a smile.
“I was gonna say my dad is usually up at this time,” you said, looking towards the clock. “He should be down here making his coffee soon.”
The man - unbearably handsome, you came to realize - sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “That’s... what I need to talk to you about.”
You stared at him for a second, mind running in circles as you tried to grasp what this man - this stranger - had to do with your father.
“What do you mean?”
The stranger looked up at you, and there was something in his eyes you couldn’t read. Sadness? Perhaps it was disappointment, or maybe even defeat.
“You don’t know who I am, do you?”
You shook your head, only growing even more confused by the second. “Am I supposed to?”
“Well,” he started, then paused, tilting his head. “I guess not. But it would’ve been helpful.”
You blinked at him a couple times, then crossed your arms in front of you. “Well, are you gonna tell me your name? Or is that something I was supposed to know already, too?”
He sighed, and gave you a defeated smile.
“My name is James. James Barnes.”
The name rang a faint bell in the back of your mind, almost like a warning toll, but you pushed it back and cocked your head. “Am I supposed to call you James? Mr. Barnes?”
“Well, my friends call me Bucky - or, in your case, the family of my friends.”
James nodded. “Friends.”
“You... know my father, or something?”
James sucked his teeth, heaving out a deep breath. “Or something. I knew him, yes.”
“Knew him?” you repeated.
“Yes.” James paused, blue eyes fixed on you as a faint realization flooded them. “You haven’t found out, huh?”
“Found out what?” you pressed, and at this point, you were getting exasperated, frustrated with the lack of sleep and context to his words. “Would you tell me what’s going on already? I don’t plan on standing talking to some stranger at six in the morning when my dad comes downstairs.”
“That’s the thing, doll...”
James’ voice trailed off, and he dropped his eyes to the ground. Suddenly, a wave of nausea rolled over your stomach, rising up to your throat, making it hard to breathe.
Your voice was barely above a whisper.
“Your father... your dad’s gone missing.”
“M-missing?” you repeated, emphasizing the word, as if you heard it wrong the first time, but James only nodded in confirmation.
“This morning, around 3 am, I got a message. It was from an unknown number, and the IP was blocked so none of my men could trace it. But I knew.”
His men? He had men?
“I knew, when I saw the initials signing off the message at the end.”
“What was the message?”
James blew out a heavy breath, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “Letting me know there’s danger in the air. Said ‘I have to flee but promise me you’ll take care of her’, and an address. This address.”
You shook your head slightly, head suddenly growing dizzy, and you staggered over to the couch to take a seat next to him.
“It was from your father,” James continued, and your heart clenched. “He called in a favor. An old debt, something he helped my father with, back when he was still in charge. And alive.”
He added the two words softly, quietly, and your eyes snapped up to meet his. You wanted to be angry for some reason; you wanted to yell, and scream, and kick everything in your vicinity. You needed something - and someone - to blame for whatever was going on. But when your blurry eyes met his, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mad at him; it wasn’t his fault.
“Our fathers knew each other?”
He nodded, and you let out a breath.
“But - he’s never - my dad never mentioned -”
You paused. Your brain, however muddled it may have been, shot a memory to its forefront, and the tears in your eyelids almost breached as realization hit you like a train.
“I remember,” you struggled with the words, and James listened patiently with kind eyes. “I remember, before my mother left - they had a big fight. Something about bad people, and - and the name Barnes.”
Your eyes widened, only the slightest bit, as you took him in. “That was because of your dad?”
With a hint of a cringe on his handsome face, he nodded slowly. “There’s something bad about to happen, and you can’t stay here anymore.”
Everything felt like a fever dream; it was as if you would crumble and disappear into the ground completely if you loosened the vice-like grip you had on the couch pillow beneath you.
“Your location’s been compromised, and some bad guys - worse than me - are gonna be knocking down that door real soon, doll.”
“But why me?” you insisted, and rested your heavy head in your hand. “Why my dad? Why me? I don’t understand anything.”
“I’ll explain along the way, but right now, we need to get going. Pack a bag.”
Las Vegas, you had come to realize, wasn’t like how the movies portrayed it. No, it was even bigger, brighter, and louder than that. Cinemas and TV screens didn’t do it enough justice: the bright lights blurring your senses as you sped down the street, staring up at the hotels and large fountains through the car window in awe.
Now you understood the reason for Tony’ incessant nagging to fly late in the afternoon: you had landed, and were reaching your hotel, just in time for the sun to set and cast a golden glow over the bustling noise and busy streets.
You saw your hotel from a distance, declaring to yourself in your mind that it was one of the most beautiful buildings you had ever seen even before you were close enough to read the fancy font of the name on the top.
Large, curling, shining letters read Wynn at the very top of the 45-story building, and a nearly identical building next to it, proudly bearing the name Encore.
You felt your heart race as you approached, and you saw Maria, sitting next to you, craning her neck to get a better view just as you were.
“You ladies better not get any funny ideas.”
Tony’s voice made you tear your eyes away from the lights to glare at him in the rearview.
Maria scoffed and rolled her eyes beside you.
“I’m serious; we’re on assignment here. The last thing I need is the two of you getting shit-faced at the bar and making out in a broom closet - no matter how much I’d pay to see that happen.”
He added the last part with a smirk, and both you and Maria groaned in annoyance at the same time.
“Shut up, Anthony,” the agent beside you muttered, and you swallowed back the laugh in your throat.
The black jeep screeched to a halt in front of the hotel’s grand entrance, and you scrambled to open the door, all the while breaking your neck trying to see the top of the towering building. You knew - you knew - your eyes were sparkling, if not in awe and amusement, then just from the sheer amount of bulbs and neon lights around you.
A quick succession of events - Tony handing you your suitcase, the sound of the engine purring as the jeep drove off, walking through the large entrance and being greeted by the doorman, and soon you found yourself standing under a canopy of flowers and vines, stretching out across the ceiling wherever it was tiled. Wherever the flora and fauna missed, it was made up for by skylights, giving everyone inside a glorious view of the sky above. It was purely breathtaking, and you almost tripped over your own shoes, bumping into Tony without realizing he had stopped walking.
“Shit, that’s it?” you asked, puzzled when you looked over his shoulder to see the three of you standing in front of the elevator.
Tony nodded, albeit a bit annoyed that you got his Armani suit dirty with the essence of you, and you sighed in wonder, letting your eyes roam around again.
“This place is amazing,” you breathed, blindly following after Tony and Maria, faintly recognizing the ding of the elevator doors opening.
“You think this place is great, kid, you should see the other hotels,” Tony said as he pushed the button for the twenty eighth floor.
“Palms, the Venetian, the Bellagio,” he carried on. “The Ritz - before it closed.”
You bit your tongue to refrain from spilling your secret; to avoid letting loose a snarky comment about spending more time in the Bellagio than he’d spent in his momma’s house, but you swallowed it down and lifted your chin.
“They must be breathtaking,” you muttered, and both of them hummed in agreement.
In a blur of events following your exit from the elevator, the three of you found yourselves in your respective rooms, all down the hall from each other. Some deeply rooted instinct in you had you marking the nearest fire escape, and the fact that your room was closest to the elevator, as you walked to it. After Tony had handed you your key, you bid them goodbye and slammed the door shut behind you.
Dropping your suitcase in the middle of the enormous room, you were sure you were catching flies with how dropped your jaw was: you were lucky enough to score the corner room, which meant two of your four walls weren’t walls at all. They were floor to ceiling windows, looking out onto the entire city, and the infamous Vegas Strip.
The single bed against the opposite wall was fitted with clean, white sheets you were sure were heaven to sleep in, and fluffy pillows mounted high. There was a small coffee table, surrounded by a couple rich leather chairs. A vase of red roses was sitting in the middle of the table, looking as fresh as they smelled. In fact, you noticed, the entire room smelled rich.
Even the bathroom, which you entered through another door in the room, had a distinct vanilla and sandalwood scent hanging in the air. You could’ve spent ages in there alone, with how the white marble tiles reflected the lights, and the large mirror above the sink.
Taking in a deep breath, you moved back towards the bed, throwing yourself back onto it. If your room was this luxurious, you couldn’t even begin to fathom what the more expensive rooms looked like. It almost made you sick, reminding yourself that this room and trip were paid for by the federal government. It almost made you feel guilty.
You picked your phone up, checking the time. Deciding it was time to go, you sat up, staring down at what you were wearing. Wincing in distaste at your sweatpants and t-shirt with some sort of stain on it (probably the juice Tony thought was closed all the way and threw at you on the plane), you opted to change into something else: a simple pair of jeans and a blouse.
Checking the time once more, you sighed as you looked at the room over your shoulder. The bed really did look comfortable, probably like sleeping on a cloud.
Too bad you wouldn’t be spending the night in it.
You stepped out into the hall, letting the door slowly shut behind you, and then you were surrounded by that envelope of pregnant, ear-deafening silence you could really only find in hotels.
Taking in a deep breath in preparation, you shoved your phone in your jeans pocket and walked the couple of steps it took to get to Maria’s room right next to yours. You knocked, twice, hesitantly, and almost considered leaving without saying anything and risking seeming suspicious, when she opened the door.
You didn’t know why it shocked you to see her in something other than a pantsuit or skirt, but you had a hard time wiping the look off your face when she answered the door wrapped in a large, fluffy towel, with her short, wet hair framing her face.
“Did you need something?”
You blinked, almost forgetting why you had knocked, before clearing your throat.
“Y-yeah,” you pressed out. “I just wanted to let you know I’m going out.”
“Oh?” she asked with a raised brow, and leaned her shoulder against the door frame.
You nodded, and swallowed, though your throat felt dry as you begged your eyes not to travel anywhere else other than her face.
“Do you need some company?”
Maria asked the question with a slight smile on her face, and the smirk in her tone was evident. You hoped the rush of blood that flooded your neck wasn’t visible as you shook your head.
“No, I’m meeting up with an old friend I haven’t seen in a while. She lives in Vegas and we’re just gonna grab a few drinks,” you lied, offering her a pressed smile. “Thank you for the offer, though. Another time?”
Maria nodded, and heaved a sigh as she pushed herself off the doorframe. “Have fun, then. Don’t stay out too late, tomorrow’s a big day.”
“I know. See ya.”
And with that, you were off. Tapping your foot impatiently during the entire elevator ride down, you could only stare at the muddled reflection of yourself in the doors as your stomach rose to your throat, then back down again when you reached the first floor. You hurried through the opulent lobby, giving the receptionist a smile before pushing through the exit.
The Bellagio, as you already knew, was way prettier than Wynn. The first time Bucky had brought you there, you were afraid of embarrassing him with your bewilderment: you had never seen such detailed decadence and perfectly placed decorations and architecture. It seemed to you as if the entire hotel was carved by the hands of Hephaestus himself.
Not to mention the enormous fountain out front, the water sparkling and glittering in the night lights whenever the sun would set and the city would wake.
No matter how many times you had been at the Bellagio, and no matter how many times Frank, the kind doorman out front, would greet you by name and with a polite nod, you never got tired of it. It was something you never got, and would most likely never get used to, no matter how many vacations you spent with Bucky there.
You shook off the jitters in your limbs and the nerves in your stomach as you found yourself, once again, standing in an elevator. The only difference was this time you were going to the highest floor, the number 36 glowing, staring back at you as you waited for the doors to slide open.
Once they did, you were met with a span of empty hallway, save for the single, large door at the end. A door you were all too familiar with as you walked up to it, the thud of your footsteps softened by the carpeted floor. A single knock was all you gave. A single knock, and you stood, waiting.
A few seconds passed in silence, and then you heard the click of a lock unlocking. Soon after that, another. And then two more, until the door opened just a crack and you were met with crystal eyes, lighter than the ones you called yours.
“Stevie,” you said with a smile, and he gave you his own grin, reaching his eyes and crinkling the corners of them. He opened the door all the way then, and before you could step foot over the threshold, you were engulfed in his large arms, face smashed into his broad chest. You breathed out a laugh, tapping his elbow to signal him to let you go.
When he did, he kept his hands on your shoulders, holding you in front of him, the smile still playing in his eyes.
“Missed you, ya jerk,” he said, and you rolled your eyes.
“Bet you miss Nat more, though.”
Got ‘em. Steve’s fair face went pink as he shoved your shoulder.
“Shut up,” he said, but he had a hard time keeping the grin from slipping onto his face. “He’s in the back.”
He said it with a nod of his head, towards the large penthouse suite behind him, and you hummed.
“See you tomorrow, Stevie,” you said, and he placed a kiss on your cheek before he slipped past you and into the hallway.
It was only then that you noticed the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans, and it made you wonder what would’ve happened if it was anybody else but you at the door. Whatever it was, Steve was always ready for it. A ride or die like no other; you’d constantly hear him and Bucky bicker back and forth, disagreeing on some things, both stubborn and hardheaded. But at the end of the day, you knew Steve was with Bucky to the end of the line.
It made warmth flood your chest as you thought about it, glad that Bucky was surrounded by such loving, loyal people, and it kept a smile on your face, even as you shut the door and walked through the large suite. The chandeliers reflected off the polished, black floors as you walked through the sitting area, heading for exactly where you knew Bucky would be: the bedroom.
And you were right, because once you opened the door to the bedroom, you were met with Bucky’s grin. In his hand, a bottle of wine. And in his other hand, two glasses.
Giving him a burning smile, you refrained from throwing yourself at him, at risk of breaking the wine bottle, and instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a deep kiss.
Bucky hummed against your lips, speaking into them between kisses.
“I missed you-” Kiss.
“So much, doll-” Kiss.
You smiled up at him, the dim lighting in the bedroom making his eyes glow like fire, even more so than usual.
He stepped away, only to set the bottle and glasses down on the sleek table in the corner. “How was your flight?”
Immediately, you cringed, then groaned loudly.
“That bad?” he asked, voice lilting with amusement. “Tony didn’t wanna play UNO with you?”
You rolled your eyes, but a smile was still leaking onto your face, as you said, “Unfortunately not. I would’ve beat his ass.”
As Bucky scoffed at your declaration, you moved to stand in front of the large window, much like the windows in your room at Wynn, floor to ceiling with a view of the entire Strip. Only this view was from a completely different angle. And if you looked out slightly to your right, you could see the bright glaring letters of Wynn staring right back at you, albeit far away enough that they were faint and blurry.
So lost in the spectacular view, you hadn’t noticed Bucky sneak up behind you until he snaked his arms around your waist, and you jumped at the unexpected touch.
“Why so jumpy?” he asked, whispering the words into your neck, and you loosed a sigh.
“I don’t know,” you confessed. “I might just be worried about tomorrow.”
You heard Bucky click his tongue and let out a deep breath.
“I’ve told you a million times, and I’ll tell you a million more: you have nothing to be worried about. Let me handle it.”
After a quiet moment, you nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll try. But I still cant stop thinking about it.”
“You tellin’ me you need a distraction?”
You should’ve known. You should’ve known by the tone in his voice that he meant something far greater than a simple distraction, but you were too far gone, enveloped in his arms and the reassuring feeling that everything was gonna be alright, so you just hummed a faint agreement.
“Look out there, baby,” Bucky said, lifting an arm to point towards your hotel. “How much you wanna bet they can see us right now?”
Panic flared your senses, and you almost turned around to punch his chest. You would’ve, if his grip hadn’t been so strong around your waist, keeping you in place.
“I’m kidding. Even if anybody was looking up here, they wouldn’t be able to tell who it was. We’re too far away.”
He felt your body relax against him again, and he placed a kiss to your shoulder. “You’re always safe in my arms, you know that.”
“I know,” you said, your voice sounding detached from your body as his lips made their way up your neck and across your jaw.
Your eyes fluttered shut, and you leaned your head against his broad shoulder, letting out a puff of air.
“I would never let anything happen to you.”
One of his hands travelled down, lifting up your blouse and caressing the naked skin of your waist. His soft touch left goose bumps in its wake, and you tried hard to hide the shiver than ran down your spine as his other hand reached up to cup your jaw lightly.
“But it would be fun, wouldn’t it?”
Bucky’s voice was an octave lower, gliding into your ear like soft silk, breath tickling your exposed neck. You wrapped your hands around his wrists, your breathing growing shallow.
Bucky hummed into your neck before answering. “Being seen. Having them watch us.”
Your breath hitched in your throat at the prospect, and you opened your eyes that you hadn’t even realized were closed the entire time.
“You heard me.”
His hand that was caressing your stomach was now dipping lower, playing softly above the waistband of your jeans, and you shifted against his body. The groan he spilled into your ear was enough to tell you there was no getting out of this anytime soon. Not that you wanted to, anyways.
Before you could realize what had happened, Bucky’s swift fingers unbuttoned and unzipped your pants, and were now playing with the hem of your panties.
You shifted again, and he hissed. “Baby, baby, please...”
He dropped his forehead onto your shoulder in an attempt to keep himself together, but it was difficult to do when your ass kept rubbing up against his cock every time you moved.
Bucky’s hand moved from your jaw to your neck, wrapping his fingers around it; not hard enough to cut off your air, but enough for you to feel your own heartbeat against his warm fingers.
“Want you to keep your eyes open for me, baby. Can you do that for me, pretty baby?”
You nodded, drunk on his words, and even though you found it difficult, with your heavy lids and hazy vision, you complied, keeping your focus trained on the hotel.
“Imagine if Tony saw you, right now, rubbing up against me like a kitten in heat. Right here, in front of the window, where anyone could see you.”
You let out a small whine, moving your hips, chasing his delicate, teasing touch.
“Would you like that? Hm, pretty baby?”
You breathed heavily, and only nodded when you felt his grip on your neck tighten slightly.
“Good girl,” he whispered, and you almost moaned right then and there.
“Does my pretty baby wanna show daddy how wet she is for him? Hm?”
Delirious, and absolutely drunk on his words and the minimal touch he was offering you, you nodded fervently.
Bucky hummed with a smile on his lips as he dipped his fingers below your panty waistline and dragged them achingly, painfully slow through your wet folds.
“Mmm, baby, you’re already soaking for me... What would Maria say if she saw how dripping you were for the enemy? Soaking wet and I haven’t even touched you yet.”
You let out a small whine and pant of frustration, bucking your hips up into his hand to search for more relief.
Bucky slipped a finger into you, feeling your walls clench around it as your nails scratched at his wrist, surely leaving marks at this point.
You couldn’t care less. Not when Bucky’s thumb was circling your clit so languidly, like he had all the time in the world.
“Please,” you begged, voice high and breathy, and Bucky cooed into your ear.
“Do they know what such good manners you have? Do you think Tony would appreciate seeing you beg for more, from me, of all people? Don’t you feel embarrassed, baby?”
As he spoke, his fingers picked up their pace, and you hadn’t even noticed when he put a second finger in, only that you were so high on all things Bucky that it took all of your strength to keep your eyes open. You were pretty sure if it weren’t for his arms holding you upright against him, your knees would have failed you long ago.
He rubbed your clit faster, in tight little circles that had you seeing stars, panting and breathing heavily, writhing against his body.
“You look so pathetic, dolly,” Bucky pressed, placing a kiss to your neck again. “Maria would laugh at you if she saw you falling apart like this, wouldn’t she?”
It was too much.
It was all too much, the words, the taunting, the teasing, the soft but heavy strokes of his fingers against your fluttering walls. Your chest rose and fell deeper, your brows furrowed as you felt your release near.
Your toes began tingling, and you let out a strangled gasp and then-
And then nothing.
Bucky removed his fingers from your pussy, like you weren’t just about to have the orgasm of your life.
You whined in frustration, and were about to ask him why the hell he stopped, when his hands disappeared from your body entirely. Before you could turn around, you felt them again. This time, his fingers hooked into the waistband of your jeans, and he pulled them down to your ankles, along with your panties, in a swift motion. A slight turn of your head had you seeing him down on his knees behind you, and you stuttered a gasp when his broad hands travelled up the backs of your thighs, pausing at the juncture where your thighs met your ass.
His thumbs soothingly stroked the skin there, and you were sure there were goose bumps all over your body as you felt his breath fan over your bare skin. His soft lips pressed a kiss to your cheek, and you gasped lightly at the sensation. You were expecting another one. What you weren’t expecting was the collision of his hand on your ass, and the delicious sting that followed after.
The impact had you leaning forward, hands pressed up against the window as he kissed the area he had just spanked.
“How many people,” he said from behind you, and his breath fanned over your sensitive skin, “do you think are watching you from down below right now?”
You bit your lip at his words, letting out a soft moan when his fingers traced the shape of his palm mark on your cheek.
Before you could even think to answer, Bucky grabbed you by the hips, spinning you around to face him.
“You know,” he said, almost casually as he nuzzled his nose where you needed him most. “I haven’t eaten dinner yet.”
You let out a long moan at that, at the same moment when Bucky let his tongue slip between your soft, soaked folds and lick a long stripe upwards. Reflexively, you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling harshly every time he would miss your clit on purpose.
“Please, please, please, Bucky, please,” you chanted as he worked his tongue into your hole, and you clenched, desperate for any sort of release. His nose worked at your clit, and you threw your head back against the window with a groan.
Bucky chuckled, sending vibrations into you that elicited a moan from your lips. You only grew even more feral when he lifted his head for a moment to shoot you a smile, and you saw his lips swollen, chin dripping with your slick. Your grip on his hair only tightened, as did your eyes as they screwed shut.
Bucky’s tongue flicked over your clit a few times, and the stimulation was so unbearable that you tried getting away. He kept you in place as he devoured you by locking his hands below your ass cheeks, and you had no place to go.
You had no place to go but up, up, up and you ascended as he ate you out like a starving animal, humming into your pussy like it was the first and last thing he’d eaten in ages. It only electrified you more when his grip began kneading the soft flesh of your ass, and you were officially putty in his hands. All it took after that was one last flick of his tongue over your clit and you were exploding.
You squeezed your eyes shut so hard you saw shapes and colors, and your grip on his hair was so harsh, you were sure you ripped out a few hairs. You came with a chant of his name on your lips, chest heaving as your orgasm rippled through you like a tidal wave, washing over your head, all the way down to your curling toes.
Barely catching your breath as the feeling faded, you opened your heavy eyes to see Bucky smiling up at you.
“What is it?” you asked, out of breath.
You didn’t like the gleam in his eye, and you narrowed your gaze as you stared at him.
“I never really ate lunch today, either.”
“Shut up. I didn’t send Steve away the entire night for nothing.”
And so you shut up, and let Bucky pull strings of moans and groans and whines from your body until you were both completely spent.
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Bucky Barnes- Are you gonna be my girl? |series|
summary: Epilogue |alternate ending| this is the happy ending.
Warnings: fluff, slight angst, time jump, short.
A/N: sorry for such a long wait for this ending, and I’m not sure how I feel about it, currently I have a love hate relationship with my writing so it’s whatever
Playlist // Main Masterlist // Masterlist
that night you stared blankly at you phone screen, you had already ignore two of his calls though your finger had lingered on the answer button for no longer the a second.
you had left Bucky devastated he hadn't bothered to change with everyone else instead he sat on the bench next to the locker staring at the call button next to you name.
He was scared that if he pressed call it would send him to voice mail, but what if you picked up what would he say how would you react.
Bucky was terrified, he’s never had this issue with trying to keep someone in his life, it seemed like they always stayed no matter what.
Bucky starred at the bright red lockers in front of him, pondering around the what if’s.
if he had already ruined his football life then he could lose you too?
if you said you didn’t want to be with him what would he do?
if you stayed, for how long?
His hand vibrates, his phone lighting up with Wanda’s name and contact photo. His heart had never raced more the right now not wasting another second he answer.
She sighed in relief through the phone when he picked up. His questions flooding from his mouth.
“where’s y/n?” “is she okay?”
“ Barnes, shes fine I’ll tell her to call you when she wakes up” Wanda assures
“you promise” he pinched the bridge of his nose his body hunched over in relief.
“ yes buck I promise she’s okay” it was rare that Wanda called him anything other then Barnes unless it was to get the point across.
Bucky was okay, he know that you were home and safe, maybe a little mad, or really mad but he didn’t care.
Everything is fine.
Bucky stayed awake all night waiting for your call hoping that maybe you call him.
Around three Bucky’s phone rang his phone the words gorgeous girl lighting up his phone.
God his heart lurched as he pressed the phone to his ear.
“Are we okay?” Was the first thing that left Bucky’s mouth.
Silence filled on the other end before you answered him.
“ yeah, though I’m still mad at you, I don’t want to leave your side” you say you palms dragging down your face.
A sigh of relief left Bucky’s lips as he closed his eyes.
“I can live with that” he says quietly drawing a giggle from you.
Five years later
Bucky didn’t go back to football after that. though he tried he never seemed to get drafted. Worried about how he was gonna tell you that he had been denied, again. But that was the last thing on his mind at the moment, the first thing was getting home on time for his daughters first birthday.
You squatted next to the highchair your daughters hand holding onto your finger as you tried to bring her attention to the large cake that sat in front of her.
The pink frosting with lit candles displayed, the dining room filled with friends and family watching as she played with the frosting courteously with her hands.
You could hear Bucky’s truck pull into the driveway watching him from the window rush up the stairs to the front door making his way through the house. Putting his stuff down next to the door.
Your head turns to him eyes looking up to him, as he walks into the room his eyes looking down at you he slightly shakes his head.
You give him a soft smile, mouthing “it’s okay” before reaching for his hand. Pulling him down to the other side of the high chair. His thumb wiping your daughters cheek.
Bucky stopped trying to make the drafts figuring that he should be able to watch his family grow, be able to watch his daughter grow up.
After all He got the girl.
hopefully you enjoyed this series!!
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Sambucky headcanons part 5
When Bucky’s had a bad dream and Sam’s not awake, he leaves the house. Sometimes he walks. Sometimes he drives. On very rare occasions he takes his motorcycle. He just can’t stand to stay in the house. Sam didn’t catch on at first, but when he did he was incredibly concerned because Bucky wasn’t leaving a note or a text or anything. Now that they’ve talked about it, Bucky knows to either leave a note or wake Sam up depending on the severity of the nightmare.
On rainy days when they’re feeling particularly bored, they’ll cuddle on the sofa and write poetry together.
Now that they’ve fixed the boat, the pair sometimes take it downstream a bit so that they can sit on the roof and watch the sunset and admire the stars with a bottle of beer each. Sometimes it’s purely romantic. Other times, one ends up pushing the other off the roof and into the chilling waters below.
Sam and Bucky’s newest addition to their joint hobbies is bullying homophobes anonymously online.
Bucky absolutely spoils AJ and Cass.
But Sam has warmed up to Alpine and spoils her.
Sam has made it his personal mission to blast Marvin Gaye whenever any of his songs play. This just ends up annoying Bucky. He likes Marvin Gaye, but Sam refuses to leave the subject alone. Unfortunately, that grin Sam wears whenever he cranks up the volume suggests he never will.
(Sam also bought Bucky Troubleman for Christmas)
As per popular belief, Sam definitely has a collection of Bucky talking to Redwing about absolutely nothing of importance. He just can’t help watching them over and over again and smiling.
Not sure who made this but it’s been one of my favorites of Sebastian/Bucky for the longest time.
Gorgeous gorgeous men are mentally ill and stay half naked on the floor ✨