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#sam x bucky fic
sweetbuckybarnes · 4 months
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Who is This? - Bucky x Reader
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Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: Bucky had a wife during the 40s, she was left heartbroken after the telegram arrived (missing, presumed dead). It's surprising when 80 years later, she was working behind a bar in Madripoor of all places!
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Bucky followed Sam and Zemo into a loud bar, he immediately wanted to turn around and go home, why had Zemo demanded he go back to being the Winter Soldier (even if it was one night)?
The sound of heavy drums and guitars also deafened his hearing, a song he had come to learn was The Wild Boy by a band called Duran Duran. A few bartenders and waitresses were walking around, there was only one who stuck out to him - a dark-haired young woman who reminded him too much of his departed wife.
His heart breaks even more, thinking of the woman he had left behind, his girl. The love of his life. Bucky doesn't think he will ever 'get over' her.
The way the young woman walked, carrying a tray of empty glasses (before being tossed an empty bottle by a patron), was so similar to the way his girl walked in the hole-in-the-wall diner she worked in.
She wasn't quick enough to duck under the bar before they got to the door leading upstairs (which was coincidentally next to the bar), Zemo was talking to the bouncer. "Excuse me, gentlemen," the young woman said, squeezing between the back of Zemo and the front of Bucky. Which is when he got a good look at her face.
There she was.
His girl. His wife.
He couldn't even say anything to her, as he was taken upstairs and away from his girl. He could only hope he would be allowed back in at the end of the night to see her.
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Y/N Barnes made her way behind the bar, glancing up at the TV where the Kansas City Chiefs were currently playing the Buffalo Bills at Arrowhead Stadium, then down at her phone which showed the live score of the Dodgers game against the San Francisco Giants.
She had been a long-time Dodgers girl, even after she found out they had moved from Brooklyn to Los Angeles.
"Did you see the way he was looking at you?" Yasmine asked, pushing a dry Martini in front of a 26-year-old woman.
Y/N looked up from the glasses she was putting in the dishwasher. "Huh? What are you talking about?"
"One of the men who went upstairs. The way he was looking at you," Yasmine fans her hand for dramatic effect. "I would drop my panties for him in a millisecond."
"Like you don't do that every night."
Yasmine rolled her eyes and served the next half-drunk who had come to the bar.
"Don't listen to her," Anastasia told her, rolling her eyes as Yasmine flirted with her current flavour of the week.
"It's not often I do, darling," Y/N replied, fiddling with Anastasia's curls for a second, before spotting a patron. "What can I get for you, darling?"
He hung off the bar, obviously far too drunk to understand what was going on. "Another beer and your phone number," he slurred.
She shook her head, reaching over and grabbing him another beer. As far as the boss of the bar (whoever that was) was concerned unless they were unconscious- why should you stop serving them? Y/N thought it wasn't right, but no matter how often she voiced this - she was shut down.
She set the beer in front of him and then went to the register to add it to his bill (good thing she currently has his credit card behind the bar).
"Oi, sweet cheeks!" He calls, but Y/N doesn't pay attention looking over at Yasmine and Anastasia with a raised eyebrow. "Sweet cheeks! I asked for your number."
Y/N replied by simply raising her hand proudly displaying her engagement and wedding rings to the drunk. It was only a small diamond (given Bucky worked on the docks before he was deployed), and the plain band she inherited from her great-grandmother.
"What's the matter with that 'un?" He hiccups. "He got you costume jewellery or somethin'?"
Y/N shook her head. "I'm going into the back for a moment," she tells Aidan.
Little did the drunk patron know, all those years ago, this was the date she was handed the telegraph - putting in such blunt words. Her James was missing, they presumed him to be dead. It breaks her heart that they never got to have a proper funeral.
"You alright, honey?" Elizabeth (another one of the waitresses) asked, she had been outside on her break. Elizabeth was the only one who knew her true age and about her James.
"It's the day I found out James was missing," Y/N said, before bursting into more tears.
Elizabeth wrapped Y/N up in a hug, everyone oblivious to the fact that Y/N's presumed dead husband was now running through the bar, flocked by Sam and Zemo, and into the alley behind the bar.
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When Bucky was sure Zemo, Sam and Sharon were asleep, he slipped out of the safe house and into the night - determined to find out if the woman he saw in the bar was that of his (presumably? should be?) dead wife.
He eventually made his way to the front door of the bar, the bouncers had long since gone home. He could see lights on in the building and just about make out words being spoken thanks to the Super Soldier serum running through his veins.
He grasped the handle and gave it a push, the door hadn't been locked, as it gave beneath the slight push.
He could see three young women sitting on the bar, a man who was counting the money from the register and another man who was dancing.
The young woman sitting closest to the bar, had golden curls hanging around her head. "Mark, you didn't lock the door!"
The man dancing, Mark, looked over at Bucky, eyes widening when he saw the size of Bucky. "I say we just serve him, then lock the door behind him."
As the bartenders and waitress argued amongst themselves, Bucky's eyes never left the woman in the middle. It looked as if she had been crying. "Babydoll?"
The woman stopped giggling, tipping her head back to normal and looked at him, before dropping her glass as tears welled up in her eyes. "James?"
The curly-haired woman gasped, setting her glass down and giving Y/N a push off the bar.
Bucky held his arms out to catch her as her feet landed on the floor. He couldn't stop looking at her big eyes, he'd always loved her big expressive eyes. He always knew how she was feeling by just a look in her eyes.
"James? Is that you?" Her hand came out slowly, and shakily, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing in front of her.
"Hi, babydoll," Bucky smiled, tears starting to fall down his cheeks, a heavy sob held tightly in his chest at the moment in time. As soon as her fingers met his skin, Bucky let out a heavy sigh of relief, reaching over and pulling her into his arms. Y/N's arms dug themselves away from his chest and up around his neck before her hand soon started fiddling with his hair.
The couple stood there for a moment, finally finding their slice of peace. Some came barging into the bar, and the dark-haired woman who had been sitting on the other side of Y/N practically demanded Mark lock the door before the Hounds of Baskerville came in.
Y/N was so happy to finally have her James back in her arms, but there was a whirling sound she couldn't let go. "What's that noise?"
Bucky looked from his wife to his arm and back to his bride. "I'll explain everything to you later, but... I lost my arm, and I now have a prosthetic one," he tells her, letting go of her for a moment so he could take his glove off and show her the black and gold Vibranium one he had made.
"Ok, James. It's a good thing you gave me this," she reached beneath her top and pulled a ring out from beneath, hanging from a chain. "Before you were deployed."
Bucky smiled, cupping her face so he could kiss her. Bucky pulled away chuckling a little. "Babydoll, will you please put my ring back on?"
She reached behind her to unclasp the chain, and slid Bucky's band off, "if it doesn't fit we'll get it resized."
"I don't care what size it is, as long as you put my ring back where it belongs," Bucky almost growled, a piece of him falling back into place with the ring back on his finger.
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The next morning - Sam, Zemo and Sharon came into the living room, seeing Bucky sleeping on the sofa (Sam was expecting this, after being told by Steve), however, there was a lump lying next to Bucky they didn't recognise.
Sam slowly makes his way over, gently easing down the thick blanket lying over Bucky and the lump.
Lying there, practically on top of the 'bionic staring machine' was a young woman.
"Did he somehow pick up a girl?" Sam whispered. Sam and Sharon were trying to be quiet - however, Zemo (who didn't care) started clattering around the kitchen, causing Bucky to wake up in a start, which then caused the young woman to look up with tired owl-like eyes.
"What the hell is going on?" Bucky nearly demanded, keeping his arms wrapped around his companion.
Sam raised his eyebrow. "I could ask you the same question, Barnes?" Sam looked at the young woman in Bucky's arms. "Who is this?"
Bucky looked down at her, Sam watched as a smile grew on his face. "This is Y/N. Y/N Barnes. My wife."
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buckyalpine · 8 months
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Drama Queen Bucky
Imagine Bucky being absolutely offended, OFFENDED when he’s called out for being dramatic. Not even in a bad way. Just. He thinks he’s so lowkey and quiet and stealthy, not realizing he’s such a little drama queen sometimes. He has his arms crossed over his chest while Sam and Steve exchange examples they can think of, his annoyance only growing more after each one. 
“He tore the arm off his jacket before throwing himself off a plane, who does that?” 
“I have it all on camera-
“I told you I’d break it” Bucky growled but it just made you giggle, imaging your grumpy boyfriend walking around with just a single sleeve of his leather jacket. 
“Remember the time you broke Zemo out of prison and I asked you how a prison fight would randomly ensue and you said “Who knows” with crazy eyes?” 
“Okay but-
“And then you said you didn’t do anything, only to have Zemo walk in 3 second later?” 
“I had good reason-”
“I mean you did dramatically yell “Stop the car” only to walk off like a grumpy old man” 
“M’not grumpy” 
“I remember this one time, I was beating up this guy in the back of an alley way and he came in with his new army uniform and-
“You were getting your ass handed to you, Steve” Bucky said with an exasperated huff, recalling the event much differently, back when Steve was about the same weight as Bucky’s left thigh. 
“Remember when he pouted because Tony wouldn’t let him travel through time and kill baby Zola” 
“I wasn’t pouting” 
“Look, he’s pouting right now!” 
You couldn’t contain your laugh anymore, looking at your poor helpless boyfriend with his bottom lip jutting out, looking like a poor admonished child. 
“No, m’not” He mumbled, letting you coo and wrap your arms around him, his face now buried in your neck, hiding away from his mean friends who were now nearly on the floor.  
“Awww, the big scary white wolf needs cuddles- oh” Sam’s smile dropped when Bucky’s head pulled away from his hiding spot, glaring at him. Steve let out a nervous laugh watching his best friend gently lift you off his lap and plopping you off to the side before getting up and stretching. 
“You idiots have 10 seconds”
“He can’t be serious”
“9″
“C’mon Buck-
“8″
“He won’t- 
“1″ 
...
“Run” 
“OH SHIT”
“USE YOUR WINGS DAMN IT”
“DO YOU THINK I KEEP THEM UP MY ASS FOR SAFE KEEPING, I DON’T HAVE THEM ON ME, YOU’RE THE SUPER SOLIDER, CARRY ME”
*Sam nearly gets clocked in the head*
“Did he just throw his metal arm at me!?”
“Yes. Yes he did” 
“So dramatic” 
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itsprashimusic · 4 months
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A Barnes Birthday
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Summary - You are celebrating baby barnes' birthday, which is on the same day as your husband's birthday.
Pairings - Bucky Barnes x wife!Reader
W/C - 1.3k
Warnings - fluff, little cussing...i think, no use of y/n, your baby's name is not mentioned, neither is there any description of you or the baby. let me know if i missed anything. Happy reading<3
Masterlist | Navigation
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At around 4 am you awoke, bursting with excitement. It was your baby's first birthday. And also, one of your husband's. It was difficult for you to fall asleep in the first place, so you thought you might as well get up from your light, restless sleep and get things ready for the day.
Knowing Bucky, he would most likely be knocked out asleep by now and wouldn't wake up till around 8:30 - 9 am. Normally your husband tends to be a light sleeper, but off late he has been sleeping like a log and you hope that carries on to tonight as well. You prayed to the universe he would not wake up when you silently moved out of bed.
First things first you freshened up, ate a quick meal and started decorating the house. Thankfully earlier in the day your baby managed to exhaust himself to a point where he would sleep the whole night without waking up once. You got streamers and balloons out of a box. Some easy to clean up confetti. You gritted your teeth as you tried to move the heavy couch around. You strong husband would have been useful here if this wasn't for his birthday.
You gave up on trying to blow the balloons and decided to bake the cake to get rid of some steam. Figuring out what Bucky would like was not that hard. Ever since Oreo came out, he has absolutely loved it. And with oreo having so many variations now-a-days than just biscuits, it's been the only thing Bucky eats when he wants a snack. Not the healthiest option but the man likes it and needs to eat.
You found a very simple oreo cake that you could make. You got started on making it. Flour, milk, butter, oreo biscuits obviously. By around 6 am the cake was in the oven getting ready. With nothing left to do, you got back to decorating. But there was an issue. You still needed to move the couch to another location.
At that exact moment your phone started ringing loudly. You ran to the kitchen and answered it, mentally kicking yourself for putting in on vibrate. You just hoped Bucky had not woken up. Thankfully he had not. Putting the phone to your ear you whispered-yelled into it, "What?!"
"I get it that you forgot to put your phone on silent?" Sam chuckled on the other side of the line. You blew an irritated breath out as you rolled your eyes. "Yes, I did. You need something Sam, cuz I'm kinda busy with trying to move my heavy ass couch."
"How about you open the door first and then we can figure out if I need something."
You moved from the kitchen to the front door and opened it to reveal a smirking Sam Wilson on the other side. You lowered the phone from your ear, cutting the call. "You son of a-" you say shaking your head a bit, a smile making it way onto your face. You both go in for a quick hug and you invite him inside. Not that he needed the invitation. He practically lived there at this point.
"What are you doing here at this ridiculous hour in the morning?"
"Helping you prepare for a double-birthday party." You didn't know how any man could be as generous as Sam Wilson. It was just a little past 6 in the morning and here he was in your house ready to lend a helping hand in getting your home ready for a birthday party. You smiled a grateful smile and told him about the couch and where you needed help in moving it. He hung his jacket on the coat hanger and got to helping you with whatever you needed.
You left in the middle to bring the cake out of the oven and let it cool. By that time the couch was moved along with some more furniture, balloons were hung and so were some streamers. With the extra help you were able to have the house decorated by 7 am with snacks and everything else ready. That was when you heard some cries coming from the bedroom. Realising that your son was awake, you quickly headed to the room to sooth him before Bucky woke up with the sound.
Bucky was dead asleep. A small part of you was worried with how deep his sleep was, but you knew it meant he was sleeping peacefully. "Hi my baby!" you greeted your son with a soft voice. "You're awake, yes. It's your first birthday." you said while cuddling him. He needed that after he woke up. His cries died down; he was wide awake and cheery. "Yes, its papa's birthday too. We'll wish him later, first let's get you ready for this double birthday."
You got to work bathing him and dressing him up in some adorable but comfortable clothes which would be easy to clean. Sam had headed back to his place to freshen up a bit before your son woke up. It was now past 8 am and you were getting dangerously close to when Bucky would wake up. You took 20 minutes for yourself to look presentable since there would be photos.
Bucky woke up just as you finished changing your clothes. "Doll?" he called out when you weren't found in his sight. "Coming." you replied and walked out of the closet he had built for you. Before fatherhood, Bucky had a big passion for construction. It kept him busy, allowed him do something for you and learn some new skills in the process.
"Happy birthday honey." you say with a smile. "How old are you turning today?" you joke, tilting your head to the side. He opened his arms and pulled you in for a hug. "Ha ha very funny. But thank you." saying the first part with mock annoyance, he pulled away and just stared at you for a good 10 seconds before he asked, "Where's the little one?" You said nothing and just smiled, gesturing him to follow you.
You jogged out of the room making him chase after you. You pick up your son who was waiting with Sam in the living room and stood there waiting for your husband. He walked in and Sam set off a confetti popper in his face which surprised for a second but then he hugged Sam. Bucky pulled back, looked around and then at you holding your son. You took the baby out of your arms and kissed him all over his tiny adorable face.
Bucky wasn't a man of many words and preferred to show his gratitude in actions rather than words. He pulled you close and just kissed the top of your head. You left his side when Sam came closer, "Happy birthday man, and happy birthday little man!" You then came out of the kitchen with the cake and lit candles and set it down on the table. In the moment Bucky couldn't be any more grateful for his little family. You, his son and Sam. They were his motivation for everything he did.
The candles were blown out and the cake was cut and fed to everyone. Your son got to devourer whatever cake was left on an already dirty towel laid on the floor. Sam played the role of a photographer for free, only because it was his nephew's birthday.
"it's been a year already." you say.
"Time flies fast, no?" he held you by his side as you both watch lovingly as Sam plays with your son. Bucky still remembers the time when you were pregnant with him, the random cravings you would have and the mood swings from time to time. There were a few hellish moments, but they were all worth it. Reminiscing about the past only made you more appreciate the present moments even more and anticipate the future.
"Happy birthday once again J."
Bucky didn't reply. But he did kiss you deeply.
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A/N - this has been sitting in my drafts since 2022😐 I wanted to get this out. It started as a random idea which took me forever to write. Hope you enjoyed reading.
If you want to find out more about me or my works, you can head to my navigation.
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kgficz · 3 months
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Don’t Give Me Up
Bucky Barnes x Reader, Platonic!Sam Wilson x Reader
Summary: You were on the run from SHIELD. When Bucky and Sam find you, will they turn you over, or will they help you?
Word Count: 2.3k
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The cold night air grazed the faint hairs on your skin; causing shivers through your body. “This is so stupid” you mumble to yourself as you move through the dark corridor. Running from SHIELD was certainly not on your to do list for the week and yet here you were; accused of murdering one of their agents.
Your feet were light on the ground; after you’d lost the agents coming after you, you figured you were in the clear but better safe than sorry. You continued to make your way through this abandoned warehouse, your eyes struggling to adjust to the light.
Soon you heard a shuffle behind you, causing you to holt to a stop. Your heart pounded in your chest as you kept your head facing forward.
“I’m not gonna hurt you” the voice said from a few feet behind. You turned around slowly, carefully.
Your eyes locked in on him as you turned; you cocked your head as you realised who it was. The Winter Soldier… well, ex- Winter Soldier from what you heard on TV.
His eyes focused in on you as you stepped back, looking around for a way out of this.
“I didn’t kill any agents” you said quickly, somewhat panicked.
“Yea I figured” he replied as he looked you over. “You don’t look like the murderous type” he added with a huff.
A deep breath escaped you as you sighed in relief, finally someone didn’t believe this crap.
“But” he said as he stepped forward, “you do know something”.
“I don’t” you answered quickly, keeping your hands out. You continued to back away until your shoulders hit the concrete wall behind you.
Within a few seconds, The Falcon was running around the corner; stepping beside Bucky. It was enough seeing one superhero, and now you had to deal with two? Great.
“Just come with us” Sam Wilson said, keeping his voice calm in an attempt to make you feel comfortable.
You realised then that to the left of you, there was an open space between piles of crates. Might as well take your chances.
You bolted.
Weaving through the wooden planks and out into the wide warehouse. It was huge with no place to hide. You headed for the door on the opposite side as Bucky and Sam went after you. It didn’t take long before a hand caught your arm; pulling you back.
The force came so quickly, you thought you might go flying. Bucky’s hands held your arms down as you struggled, attempting to pull yourself away from him.
“Take it easy” he said calmly, as though keeping you still was no effort to him whatsoever.
“Let go of me!” You yelled as you continued to push and kick at him. His metal arm wrapped around you, holding you still.
“You’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep that up, sweetheart” he exclaimed before you finally began to calm down. You had no chance against him, that much was clear.
“We’re not going to hand you over to SHIELD. Not yet” Sam said as he stepped in front of you. His eyes looked over to Bucky, gesturing for him to let you go.
Bucky’s arms dropped away slowly and you stepped away from him, with a scowl on your face. Bucky sighed as he stood where he was.
Your eyes looked back at Sam now as your mind raced. As far as you knew, these men worked for SHIELD.
“What do you want then?” You questioned before clenching your jaw in frustration.
“We want you to tell us what’s really going on” he answered.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you replied quietly.
“I think you do” he answered.
“You might not have killed an agent, but you know more than you’re leading on” he added as his eyes scanned your face.
You looked away now, taking in a few breaths; contemplating. You weren’t exactly a fan of these superhero guys; how could you really trust them not to turn you over?
Whilst you were too busy thinking to yourself, SHIELD agents burst in through the doors; their guns raised and aimed at you.
Your arms immediately rose, praying to god they would not fire. Sam and Bucky looked at each other, clearly shocked as the agents grabbed you. You were roughly hauled to the ground as handcuffs were placed on your wrists behind your back.
“Hey. Easy” Bucky said as he walked over with his hand out.
“You’re under arrest” the agent announced to you, ignoring Bucky’s words before he lifted you back to your feet.
Agents were swarming you, keeping Sam and Bucky out of your line of sight as they drew you away. You were screwed now.
-
It had been hours since you arrived here; sat in the middle of a small white room with your hands cuffed on the table in front of you. No one had spoken to you since you were thrown in here. Your head rested down against your arms whilst you focused on breathing slowly, staying calm. Should you ask for a lawyer? Does SHIELD even allow lawyers? You sighed… this was a mess.
Time continued to pass until the door swung open; causing your eyes to snap up.
“Shit” you mumbled to yourself once you recognised it was Sam and Bucky walking into the room. They sat down across from you, their eyes locked in on you.
You pulled yourself up in your seat, trying your best to remain brave despite the fact that you were losing your mind with each passing second.
“You ready to talk to us?” Sam said carefully.
You pursed your lips before speaking “So much for not handing me into SHIELD” you retorted causing Bucky to look down as he smirked to himself.
Your eyes shot daggers at him as your attention turned over to himself instead of Sam. “What’s so funny?” You questioned.
“Nothing” he replied, throwing his hands up. You sighed as you looked back over to Sam.
“Why don’t you just tell us your side of the story?” He asked with a gentle tone.
“My side?” You questioned. “My side is- I didn’t kill anyone” you answered firmly.
“Then tell us who did” Sam said causing you to stop, processing your thoughts.
“What makes you think I’d know something like that?” You asked, feeling your heart rate pick up.
Bucky looked over at Sam now as they exchanged looks.
“Why else would you run?” Sam returned .
Your jaw clenched as he spoke. You needed to keep your mouth shut. No one could know what you had seen. They’d kill you. Sam and Bucky noticed your refusal to speak.
“We can keep you safe” Sam said, almost as though he was reading your mind.
“I don’t need your help” you replied quickly as your eyes darted between the two of them.
Bucky leaned forward now, his hands on the table as his eyes locked with yours.
“Who are you really running from?” He questioned.
You avoided his eyes, gulping. Your hands now rested in your lap, you wished you could crawl inside yourself and disappear.
“No one” you replied quietly, trying to push away the flood of memories attempting to appear. Their screams echoed in your mind as you shook your head.
“Let us help you” he said, wishing you would trust his words.
“What are you two doing in here?” An agent yelled as he stormed into the room; his eyes locked on Sam and Bucky.
Bucky let out a sigh as Sam stood up, facing the agent. “We just needed to ask a few questions” he answered.
“On what authority?” The agent questioned.
Bucky’s eyes were on you as Sam went back and forth with the SHIELD agent. Soon the agent was kicking them out of the room. You didn’t spare them a glance as they left, hoping you would not have to speak to them again.
-
Hours passed when you were finally dragged into a cell; the concrete walls surrounding you. This place looked as though it was fit to hold the Hulk and yet here you were, deemed to be such a threat. You rolled your eyes at the thought.
You laid down on the flimsy mattress; you back feeling the metal bars beneath it. The darkness swallowed you whole as you thought you could hear your own heart pounding in your chest.
The small ceiling loomed over you, enclosing you in this small space. You figured at least this was the safest place you could be. It wasn’t long before you drifted off, the exhaustion taking over.
-
You woke to the sound of gunshots, causing you to shoot up. What the hell? You whispered to yourself as you stood up. Through the small glass panel in the door, you could see men running with weapons drawn. You immediately ducked down, hoping to stay out of sight.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you chanted as you moved back. This can’t be good.
As the gunfire continued, you saw blood splattered on the glass of the door. You felt your stomach drop.
The door flew open as men rushed in. These were no SHIELD agents. A man’s hand wrapped tightly around your bicep; hauling you to your feet. You winced in pain at his grip; trying to pull yourself away. As you were walking out; he shoved you against the doorframe, inflicting pain as you moved. You couldn’t help the groan the escaped you.
The men split up, two of them moving with you whilst the others went the other way. SHIELD agents came running around the corner, but were quickly taken down. The man holding you still managed to fire with insane accuracy.
You continued down the hall, reaching the corner when suddenly the two men with you were pulled away. You felt yourself fall to the ground; keeping your head low. Your hands covered your face as you heard the guns going off.
A gun landed on the ground in front of you, causing you to gasp before you were lifted from the ground.
“Come with me!” A voice said from behind you. You turned around quickly to see Bucky standing before you. This time instead of arguing, you nodded quickly.
Bucky’s hand quickly grabbed yours as he guided you through the hall; you realised soon that he was aiming to get out of the building.
He held you behind him as men came into the haul. You watched as he took each of them down easily, barely breaking a sweat.
“What the f-“ you began to say before he tugged at your hand, continuing to move until you reached a stairwell. He looked over the railing to check for more men before you began to run down the steps.
You realised your fitness could use some improvement as you reached the bottom; yours lungs felt as though they were going to collapse. Watching Bucky move so easily made you curse him in your head.
Bucky pulled you out of the building and continued running until he approached a motorbike in the underground car park.
“Get on!” He yelled as he jumped on, urging you to get on the back.
“Oh god-“ you muttered before climbing on behind him; your arms wrapping tightly around his waist.
Within seconds, he took off; hearing the yelp that came out of as he accelerated. He took off into the streets as the sound of gunshots finally began to fade off into the distance. He noticed at no point did your grip loosen. If he was a normal man, he thought you would have suffocated him by now.
After what felt like a lifetime; he pulled into another underground parking lot. He turned off the ignition when he came to a stop and noticed your grip was still tight.
“You’re okay now” he said as he looked over his shoulder. You felt yourself breathing quickly; the adrenaline rushing through your veins.
“I think- I’m going to have- a heart attack” you panted. You felt him chuckle under your hold.
You eventually loosened your grip before he stepped off the bike. His arm wrapped around you gently as he guided you off. He began walking towards another door and you followed close behind. Your eyes looked up at you walked in the door.
“More steps” you sighed, not noticing Bucky’s small smile as you walked up each level.
When you reached the top, he lead you to a loft and let you walk in first. Your eyes widened, this place was huge. Bucky’s eyes were on you as you looked around with your lips parted, taking it all in.
“Sam should be here soon” Bucky announced as he walked over to the kitchen bench. You moved over past the couch; looking out the large window which gave a wide view of the city below.
You nodded as he spoke, not entirely processing what he was saying. He eventually walked over to you, his gaze softening.
“So… you’re not turning me over to SHIELD?” You asked softly before glancing over at him.
Despite his height and muscular frame (and the fact that you’d seen him take down several men with relative ease), he felt non-threatening.
“No” he answered plainly.
Your eyes traced the features of his face; why did it take you so long to notice how handsome he was? You shook your head slightly at your thought. Pull yourself together.
“But I think it’s time you talk” he added before letting out a breath. His voice wasn’t as stern as before; but you could tell he was serious.
You bit the inside of your cheek as you debated the issue with yourself.
“I can’t” you answered anxiously, your eyes looking down at your fingers.
He took a step forward, only standing a few feet from you. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you” he said, matter-of-factly.
Your eyes shot up, staring into his.
“I don’t want anyone else to get hurt” you murmured before letting out a deep breath.
“Then let us help you” he replied.
Maybe you could trust him. Maybe you couldn’t. Right now, the best way to survive, is with him.
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imtryingbuck · 7 months
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Affair Part 2
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~ gif not mine credit goes to owner ~
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Fem!Reader x ??
Summary: The aftermath of reader telling Bucky she’s divorcing him
Word count: 3157
Warnings: Bucky is a big huge gigantic humongous dumdum. Swearing, if there’s more let me know.
Translation: милая девушка - beautiful girl. ангел - angel.
Masterlist
Part 1
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“I filed for divorce” kept playing on his mind for the rest of the night long after she had gone to bed. His phone kept going off nonstop, the messages and missed calls all from Sharon.
He stayed at the home he shared with his wife and children for four hours waiting, hoping his beautiful wife who he betrayed would come back down the stairs and tell him she forgave him.
It never happened.
He left, getting into the car his wife brought him, the same car he fucked his mistress in and went straight to Sharon’s. Knocking on the door he only had to wait for a few minutes before the wooden door came swinging open.
“You finally showed, I’ve been waiting for ages! We need to talk” Sharon stands there, red eyed as if she had been crying.
“She’s divorcing me” Walking past her and looking around the room he’d been in so many time before - double date nights, just seeing his best friend, cheating on his wife with his best friend’s wife.
“He’s divorcing me too” Her voice was happier than his. “Now we can be together, I had to cry in front of Steve pretending I cared. Then you wouldn’t pick up your phone I wa-”
“I don’t want you Sharon. I want Y/n. I want my children and my best friend back. Me and you biggest mistake I have ever made!” Cutting her off.
“You’re joking right? We are so perfect together not me and Steve and especially not you and that bitch!”
“Don’t. Don’t you dare call my wife a bitch” he seethes.
“Don’t act like you care now Bucky where was that caring nature of yours when you was sleeping with me for 8 months? And news flash she’s divorcing you she’s not going to get back with you!”
Having her remind him of the stone cold truth hit him in the gut. Sharon was right, his wife was divorcing him. She was never going to get back together with him.
“I don’t care if she’s divorcing me just don’t call her a bitch.”
“Okay, how about we don’t talk about them two okay? Here’s what I was thinking, I’m getting the house in the divorce so I’ll just sell it and me and you can get an apartment together? We can buy all new furniture and it can be a fresh start for us and oh I’ve already found -“.
As Sharon stands there rambling on he had the urge to ring his wife and tell her she was wrong. Sharon did want him now that they were divorcing, she’s even planned to sell her house so they can get an apartment together. Y/n was wrong about that Sharon and himself couldn’t run off into the sunset and live happily ever after because he stood there with his mistress in front of him and having to hear her rambling off about their new future together.
His wife who he loves more than anything in this world was wrong.
Because it wasn’t Sharon that didn’t want him now their affair was known to their spouses. It was him. He was the one that didn’t want her, he didn’t want the apartment with Sharon, he didn’t want a fresh start with his best friends soon to be ex-wife. No, he wanted his wife back. He wanted a fresh start with Y/n so he can get a second chance of being better. He wanted the love of his life back, and he wanted Steve back - he knew himself that Steve wouldn’t forgive him for his part of her affair.
“-Bucky? Bucky are you even listening to me?” Sharon’s voice cut his inner monologue off.
“Huh? Oh yeah sorry”
“You wasn’t listening was you? It’s okay silly bum I was just talking about an apartment I found the other day, oh Buck it’s beautiful and I honestly think it would be perfect for us” Her voice was hopeful and excited. He found himself comparing her voice to the one belonging to his wife when she found the house that became their home.
“Sharon this isn’t going to work”
“Of course it will, I love you and you love me”
“No Sharon I don’t. I don’t love you, I will always love Y/n”
“No! No you don’t James! You love me!” Sharon screamed at him.
Sighing “Listen Sharon I don’t love you, I never had. I have never been attracted to you-“
“Never been attracted to me? You’re joking right?”
“No”
“You prick!”
“We wouldn’t work anyway Sharon. You cheated on Steve with me and I cheated on Y/n with you. We would always accuse each other, we wouldn’t be happy I can promise you that”
“N-no you wouldn’t cheat on me though!”
“I cheated on my WIFE! You really think I wouldn’t do it to you? I love her for Christ sake, she’s the only person I have ever been attracted to! When I was fucking you I was thinking of her! C’mon Sharon don’t be so stupid, it doesn’t suit you” He’s only now regretting coming over here, at the time he didn’t know where else he could go.
“Yo-you ruined my marriage James” he watched her struggle to breathe for a moment “you ruined my marriage!”
“No I didn’t, you did. You are the one that made a vow to Steve not me. Like how I ruined my marriage with Y/n not you.”
“You-we made love James”
“We fucked. We didn’t make love Sharon” rolling his eyes at her petty attempt at making him change his mind.
“I-don’t-you don’t want me now? But you did earlier? You fucked me in your car, went home and get confronted by your wife, then you come here and tell me you don’t want me anymore? Is that what you’re trying to tell me right now?” Her anger and tears were on full display.
“I’m sorry. I am. It’s just I love Y/n more than anything. I’m going to go; I’ll see you around I guess” he was just about to touch the door handle when her voice stopped him.
“Fuck me one last time. Please James”.
And ever the fool, he did.
~~~
The months after she told him she had filed for divorce she flourished, no more crying herself to sleep, no more fake smiles and no more faking confidence. She was the happiest she had been since she caught her husband fucking a woman that was most definitely not her. Her and Steve’s friendship grew too, they became closer than ever. They were each other’s shoulder to cry on, they supported one another when they needed it.
But then came their divorce to being finalised, and that’s where Y/n struggled.
Nat had forced convinced her to go and see a therapist, Dr Grey was a lovely woman who didn’t care about telling her to stop putting herself down, happily called her stupid when she blamed herself for the affair. Dr Grey - Linda as she told Y/n to call her - became a good friend, a friend she needed and wanted.
In the aftermath of her divorce she became isolated, she didn’t want to see or hear anyone that wasn’t her children. Sam being the best friend that he is, would pick up the kids and take them to school and drop them back off. Nat would go to the shops and sometimes even cook them dinner. She felt like she was causing problems for Nat and Sam because they were spending so much time running around after her that they couldn’t spend any time together.
“Don’t be stupid Y/n. You know me and Sam love you, we are more than happy to help” Nat spoke one night when they were lying in bed together.
“I feel like I’m causing problems and I don’t want you two to argue becau-“
“Y/n stop! You’re not causing problems and we are not arguing, like at all. You know Sam loves them kids of yours, he actually loves taking them to school because and I quote ‘they make me feel cool’” both women chuckle at the red heads husband “so stop милая девушка, we are both here for you, I promise”
She cried herself to sleep most nights, cried for the loss of her marriage - for weeks she would find herself going to play with the ring that use to sit on her fourth finger only for her to look down and only see a fading white tan line. Signing her maiden name not married one took months to engrain as she was just so use to writing Barnes after her name. She would find herself reaching out to the other side of the brand new double sized bed searching for his warmth, always finding it empty, always leaving her feeling alone and cold.
She cried the loss of her friendship with Sharon. They had been friends for nearly three years prior to Sharon introducing her and Bucky to each other. She was the first person Y/n would phone whenever something good and bad happened, she was actually the first person to know Y/n was pregnant with her oldest child - hell it was Sharon that told her she was pregnant as she couldn’t bring herself to look at it. Y/n was always there for Sharon night or day she was there. The pain of her betrayal was almost more unbearable than Bucky’s.
Her mental and physical health took a toll too. Constantly blaming herself for not being enough for him, blaming herself for being tired sometimes to not have sex with him. Blaming herself was so much easier and safer for her than to blame the two people who hurt her. Her weight loss was concerning to Nat and Sam, although she would find herself hungry she just couldn’t stomach anything. Nat cleaned the house whilst Sam took the kids to the park as Y/n had a shower for the first time in nearly a month, she felt like she could conquer the world all because she showered, washed her hair and shaved.
Then she accepted the divorce. She accepted that she was no longer someone’s wife, she even (more dramatically) accepted that she’d be single for the rest of her life. With the help from Linda she accepted that Bucky’s affair was not her fault.
~~~
It had now been two years since they were officially divorced.
Y/n made a friend at work, Peggy. Beautiful, kind and the sweetest person. She had set her up with Steve to help him get himself back out there, they’d been dating for nearly a year. Y/n couldn’t believe how much happier he looked now, she was happy for him truly she was. She believed he deserved it.
Dating for her was, well….
“You’re absolutely glowing ангел” Nat whistled as Y/n walked into the kitchen.
“Stop flirting with me”
“I can’t help it милая девушка”
“Sam come and get your wife!”
“What’s going on?” Sam asks coming to where the women were, placing a kiss on Y/n’s temple then giving Nat a quick kiss.
“Your wife keeps flirting with me”
Wiggling his eyebrows “well things can be arranged”
“Samuel!” Both women scold him but shortly after burst out laughing.
“No but I was telling her that she was glowing” Nat informed.
“You are, you seem happier as well” Sam agreed.
“Well… ikindofmetsomeone”
“What!” Both Sam and Nat shout in unison.
“I met someone..”
“Who?” When? Where? How?” Y/n rolled her eyes at the pair talking in tandem.
“His name is Ari. I literally bumped into after I ran out of the cafe after setting Steve and Peggy up on their date”.
“Is he good to you?”
“Yeah, and he’s great with the kids”
“Wait…he’s met the kids?”
“Yeah it was an accident, James said he couldn’t take the kids because of work and Ari came to pick me up for our date but ended up staying at mine. The kids love him”.
“I can’t wait to meet him!” Nat smiles.
~~~
Bucky hadn’t seen Sharon after he left the next morning, he felt ashamed and guilty for sleeping with her. For some bizarre reason he thought it would be a great idea to go to Nat and Sam’s to talk to Steve.
“Absolutely not. You’re not coming in Buck”
“Please Sam I know he’s here, I jus- I just need to talk to him”
“About what? Jesus Bucky you were having an affair with his wife!”
“I know I just need to apologise” He heard movement behind Sam, when he saw Steve’s pained expression his heart sank.
“I don’t want to hear any apologies. But you will listen to me.” Steve gives Sam a small nod, stepped further out of the doorway. “I have known you since we were kids and not once have I ever not trusted you. Not once have an ever wanted to punch you as much as right now. But.. but I’m not going to, it’s not worth it. You betrayed me man! You knew how much I loved her! And there’s Y/n, you had this perfect woman and you cheated on her!” Slightly shaking his head “you-you had the perfect family and you fucked it up by fucking my wife! I was always jealous of you, did you know that? Sharon never wanted kids so when you told me Y/n was pregnant I was jealous. You two had this perfect relationship whilst me and her were arguing all the time, I was jealous” swallowing hard and taking a deep breath “but you see James as much as I wanted the life you had I would of never and I mean never of done what you have done!”
Bucky stands there with tears rolling down his cheeks, wanting to say something but the words just wouldn’t come out.
“You know when Y/n told me about the affair she couldn’t stop apologising, couldn’t stop crying, she even puked up. I had to calm your wife down trying to reassure her that what you did wasn’t her fault! And where were you huh? Screwing my wife!” Chuckling lightly to himself. “Me and Y/n deserve so much better than you two. I really hope it was worth it James because I can’t forgive you. And the fact you have the audacity to come here after spending the night with Sharon just proves how little you care” when he sees Bucky’s eyebrow twitch in confusion he laughs “I really can’t see Y/n giving you a hickey after she’s told your sorry ass she’s divorcing you. Goodbye James it was nice knowing you”.
Y/n was right, he was alone. He had no one in his corner. Going through the divorce process was difficult for him, like she said she wasn’t going to take anything from him. Custody had been split between them evenly as agreed. The part he was struggling with was, only being able to see her at the weekends, their conversations was just about the kids nothing more nothing less.
Then Sam started to do drop offs and pick up leaving him completely crushed. He no longer got to see her even if it was for 10 or if he was really lucky 15 minutes. The friendship he had with Sam and Nat became strained, he didn’t blame them. He did miss them though.
To deal with the loss of his marriage he turned to drinking. Sometimes he would come home from the bar and call out for Y/n, cry when he got no response, 9 out of 10 times he’d fall over and then fall asleep on the floor.
Then that dreaded day came.
Sam had long gone after dropping the kids off, he was in the middle of cooking dinner with his oldest talking about school when he heard a name he hasn’t heard before.
“Sweetheart what was that?”
“Me and Tommy and Billy are now best friends they’re new to school”
“I’m glad but not that bit baby, you said someone helped you with your homework?”
“Oh Ari, he helps me he’s so clever daddy”
“Who’s Ari?”
“Mommy’s new friend. We saw them kissing” giggling when her younger brother pulls a disgusting face.
Of course he knew that it would happen, her dating. Of course she would, she had every right to find happiness and love after he destroyed that for her. Any man would be lucky enough to be with her - she’s funny, beautiful, loving, kind and passionate, the list goes on - he should know, he was once that lucky man before he fucked it all up.
The knowledge of his now ex-wife is dating again broke something inside of him. What? He doesn’t quite know, he shouldn’t have felt anything other than happiness for her.
~~~
It was their son’s birthday party today, the squeals of close to 30 children running around the backyard full of sugar could be heard from down the street, most of their little faces decorated with face paint.
The birthday boy was currently bouncing around on the dinosaur themed bouncy castle - that he just had to have - after laying on the grass for 10 minutes complaining he was ill. Their oldest daughter was walking around showing the adults her butterfly wings that went with the butterfly paint on her face.
Y/n was rushing around making sure everything was okay and running smoothly as well and making sure everyone was having a good time. Bucky thought she looked absolutely breath taking in the white floral dress and white pumps. Her hair was up in two fishtail braids, just like his daughter.
It was the first time in two years that he saw Steve - like Y/n he looked happier, healthier, freer. The woman that was placed snuggly under his arm was beautiful and when Bucky noticed Steve’s hand position when talking to Sam he saw the pregnancy bump, Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his former best friend finally getting his dream of being a dad.
The cheerful scream pulled his eyes away from Steve to his daughter who was running past him heading towards the sliding glass doors. A tall, well-built man stood at the doorway with a huge smile on his face.
“Ari Ari - look mommy Ari’s here”
“I can see that sweetie-“
He started to struggle to breath, his own daughter was more happier to see this Ari guy than him, the smile that lit up Y/n’s beautiful face crushed him. Then it got worse for him. He watched as his former best friend go up to Ari and greeted him in the same way them two use to great each other.
~~~
Going back to the once lively and warm house that he once called home the realisation of how truly alone Bucky was, was a tough pill for him to swallow.
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~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~
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ginnsbaker · 7 months
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Bulletproof (10/10)
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Part Summary: After figuring out your feelings for each other, you and Wanda return to the Avengers compound to determine your future.
Chapter word count: 4.1k+ | Tags: Smut (18+ only), Fluff, Steve being Steve, A little reunion with everyone else | Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader
Author's Note: Another series comes to an end! But wait there're more--the alternative ending which will be posted tomorrow (or the day after tomorrow at the latest!). I had so much fun writing "Bulletproof" and it wouldn't be possible without the anon who initially requested a oneshot. Thank you to all who commented, reblogged, liked and read this mini series. Many of you are unaware that this blog was primarily a fanart blog before I started posting fics here, and I've been thinking about whipping up a short comic strip of a scene from Bulletproof, so watch out for that :)
Series Masterlist
-
As the morning sunlight filters through the window, Wanda stirs from her slumber. Blinking open her eyes, she's greeted with the sight of you, peacefully sleeping next to her. She can't help but remember the previous time she woke up with you beside her. That morning realization, that she had fallen for you, had sent her into a panic, eventually causing her to slip away to her room before you could wake up.
But this time is different. There's no urge to run, no lingering fear. Instead, there's an overwhelming sense of contentment and a desire to push closer to you. Wanda reaches out, letting her fingertips trace the curve of your nose, moving down to trace your slightly parted lips. A soft smile graces her face, watching as your brows furrow in mild annoyance at being disturbed.
She doesn’t think she’s ever felt this way for anyone. With that conclusion, rather than pulling away, Wanda leans in, her lips brushing against your forehead in a soft, chaste kiss.
When your eyes flutter open, they're met with Wanda's gentle gaze, filled with warmth and adoration. “Good morning,” she giggles happily.
Your lips stretch into a sleepy grin before your eyes travel down her naked form. “Mmm, it certainly is,” you mumble, pulling her closer, nestling her against your chest.
Wanda's eyes glitter with a mischievous spark as her fingers gradually drift down from your waist. The slow, deliberate journey of her fingertips over your abdomen has your heart rate quickening, and her touch alone makes your skin prickle with anticipation. By the time her hand settles between your thighs, cupping you softly, the drowsiness that once weighed down your eyelids is entirely forgotten.
A gasp leaves your lips, your body instinctively pressing into her touch. The sensation of her fingers teasing over the sensitive skin makes warmth pool in your belly, the heat of your arousal becoming impossible to ignore.
Wanda's tongue traces the contours of your ear before playfully nipping at your earlobe. Her breath is warm as she whispers, “Did I wake you?” Her tone is dripping with innocence, but the mischievous glint in her eyes tells a different story.
You swallow hard, finding it difficult to form words with her hand expertly coaxing out your desire. “You... have a unique way of saying 'good morning',” you manage to reply, a lump forming in your throat as her hand continues to move deliberately between your legs.
Wanda's smirk is devilish, full of promise. “I thought you'd appreciate it.”
“I do,” you reply, voice husky, as you shift to sit up against the headboard. Wanda takes the cue, momentarily halting her touch, only to move herself gracefully and straddle your lap. As she does, the sheets cascade from her waist, revealing the tantalizing wetness that's gathered at the juncture of her thighs. Your gaze locks onto the dampened patch of hair above her core, and you can't suppress a smirk, realizing she's been aroused for some time—perhaps the entire duration you’ve been asleep.
Locked in an intense gaze with Wanda, your fingers precariously trace her inner thighs, until they finally meet their intended mark, lightly brushing over her slick entrance. The mutual sensation prompts an audible sigh from both of you: Wanda, overwhelmed by the electrifying touch, and you, awed by the fervent response of her body as she dampens your fingers even further. 
She’s so wet and so eager for you. You can’t believe how lucky you are to have her this way.
“Shit, baby, you’re gonna be the death of me…” you trail off before claiming her lips into a heated kiss, while Wanda keens against your mouth at the term of endearment.
With each light, teasing touch, Wanda's breath catches, soft whimpers escaping her as your deliberate pace keeps her on the precipice of desire. For a moment, she seems content with the languid rhythm you've set, a mix of frustration and pleasure playing on her face. But as the minutes tick by, that patience wanes. Her hips begin to grind against your hand, trying to draw you deeper, to elicit more than just a graze. Each time she attempts to capture your fingers within her, you deftly pull away, drawing out the dance and stoking the fire of her desperation.
The room fills with her ragged breathing and soft pleas, a sob catching in her throat as her need grows more pronounced. Recognizing the edge she's on, you decide it's time to give in—but not entirely on her terms.
Guiding her, you position her over your waiting fingers, the slickness making for easy entry. Whispering sultrily into her ear, you urge, “Ride me.”
The command ignites something in her, and Wanda starts moving, her rhythm gaining momentum as she rides your fingers, the sound of wetness and her moans filling the room. You take the opportunity to explore the canvas of her skin with your mouth. You suck, nip, and kiss, marking her pale, porcelain skin with more bruises to add to the collection from last night.
The fervor in Wanda's eyes intensifies, her movements becoming more frantic. You can tell she's on the edge, so close to her climax, and that's when you decide to change the game.
“Stop,” you whisper, and Wanda freezes, her eyes wide and pupils dilated. You carefully slide your fingers out of her, and she whines from the sudden emptiness, her eyes pleading. With a smirk, you bring your wet fingers to your lips, savoring the taste of her.
Wanda's breathing is ragged, her chest heaving as she looks at you, equal parts frustration and desire evident in her gaze. “Why?” she breathes, her voice almost a whimper.
“You'll see,”you reply cryptically, instructing her to lie on her back. Wanda obeys, and then you position yourself over her, placing a leg between hers. Your eyes lock onto each other as you lower yourself, allowing your centers to meet, the sensation immediately sending jolts of pleasure through both of you.
Surprised by the overwhelming feeling of feeling her against you, you wait for the tightening in your stomach to subside before you start to move, grinding your hips against hers. The friction between your sexes is intoxicating, driving both of you wild. Your hands find purchase on Wanda's hips, guiding her to meet your thrusts. Her hands wander up to grip the sheets, her knuckles white as she tries to anchor herself.
Your rhythm builds, each thrust deep and unyielding, fucking Wanda further into the mattress. The intensity of your movement eventually pushes her to find purchase in you, and as you feel Wanda's nails dig into your back, you can't help the low growl that escapes your throat. The blend of pain and intense pleasure from her touch makes your head spin.
“I'm sorry,” she breathes out when she feels the wetness of blood under her fingers.
But you shake your head, urging her on. “It's okay,” you assure her, a wicked grin on your face. “Feels good. Do it again.”
Her fingers once more find their way to your back, and each time she scratches, the sensation of your skin repairing itself serves to heighten the pleasure for both of you. It becomes a dance of sorts—Wanda marking you, you healing, both of you lost in the deliriousness of the exchange.
Her moans become more frantic, her mouth falling open as you drive into her again and again and again. “Don't stop. Please, just like that.”
And you're more than happy to oblige.
In a bold move, you shift your weight, seamlessly flipping Wanda beneath you without breaking contact, the newfound angle allowing you to delve even deeper, each thrust meeting her sweet spot, causing her to gasp and cling to you desperately. Her legs wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, urging you to go faster, harder.
You can feel the build-up, the familiar pressure that signals an impending climax. “Wanda,” you gasp, your voice heavy with need.
She responds with a keening whimper, her walls pulsating against you, urging you on. The two of you move in a frenzied manner, chasing that peak together, moving as one. The feeling is so intense, so raw, that when you both finally shatter, the pleasure is all-consuming.
As the aftershocks ripple through you both, you collapse onto the bed beside her, both panting heavily.
After a few moments of silence, you turn to her, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. “Hey,” you begin, swallowing hard, “I know it might seem too soon, but I can't help how I feel.”
“What are you saying?” Wanda asks, looking up at you, chest still heaving and you think she’s redder than she was just a few seconds ago.
“I’m saying I love you,” you answer with a soft smile.
Tears pool in her eyes, catching the morning light in a shimmering dance. She reaches out, cupping your face, and whispers, “I love you too.” 
You might not recall much of your past self, but somehow, you wouldn't change this present for anything.
-
The two of you are nestled on the couch, mugs of steaming coffee in hand. Every so often, your eyes meet Wanda's, a smile forming on both your lips as the remnants of the morning's escapade play on repeat in your minds.
Soon, however, the serene atmosphere is interrupted by heavy footsteps approaching the front door.
“Were you expecting a visitor?” you ask.
Wanda shakes her head, placing her mug on the coffee table. “No…”
The apprehension in her voice is evident, and the two of you exchange worried glances.
“Hide,” she whispers urgently, her eyes darting to the bedroom door.
“Why? I've got my powers back,” you argue, rising to your feet. 
Wanda's lips press into a thin line. “You might not remember how to use them,” she whispers urgently. “You could get hurt.”
You smirk, rolling your eyes. “Pretty sure I can take a bullet or two.”
Wanda looks like she's about to argue further when the front door slams open, the force of it sending it crashing into the adjacent wall. Her reflexes are instantaneous: Scarlet tendrils of magic emanate from her fingers, weaving a defensive barrier between the intruder and the two of you.
However, as the dust settles and the silhouette becomes clear, Wanda's magic falters, her eyes widening in recognition. 
“Vision?”
Vision, slightly wary or Wanda's immediate defensive response, raises his hands in a peaceful gesture. “Sorry for barging in unannounced,” he says.
Wanda lowers her hands slowly, the red magic dissipating. “What are you doing here?”
“Steve has ordered both of you to return to the compound immediately.”
Wanda narrows her eyes. “Why?”
“He didn't specify, but it seemed urgent,” Vision replies, his tone indicating that he's as much in the dark as Wanda.
“Is it about the organization that's hunting Y/N down?”
Before Vision can answer, the sound of soft footsteps signals another arrival. 
“They've been subdued,” Natasha declares without preamble, her eyes locking onto yours, a recognition in them. “The organization was kidnapping ex-agents who chose to live a normal life. And when your powers resurfaced, Y/N, they were hellbent in wielding you into a weapon.”
Wanda's protective instincts flare up. “Nat, I'll only return to the compound with Y/N if you can guarantee they'll be free. They've been through enough.”
Natasha hesitates, shifting her weight on one foot. “I can't promise freedom, Wanda, but I can promise safety. We need to ensure that no one else poses a threat to Y/N, or to any of us.”
Wanda looks torn, her eyes darting between Natasha and you, weighing the options and the promises. After what feels like an eternity, she exhales deeply. “Alright, but the moment Y/N is in any danger, we're out. Understood?”
Natasha nods. “Understood.”
She then takes a moment to glance around the room, an appreciative smile forming on her lips. “I must admit, you two found quite the hideout,” she comments, observing the tasteful yet cozy decor, the soft lighting, and the clothes thrown carelessly on the couch.
With the bedroom door ajar, Natasha's keen gaze settles on the slightly rumpled bed, a few candles still burning around it, and a teasing grin crosses her face. “Although,” she tilts her head, studying the two of you, “It looks more like a love nest than a hideout.”
You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks at her words. Though she doesn't say it outright, the implication is clear, and it's even more embarrassing given how accurate her observation is. You avoid her gaze, feeling slightly guilty as you remember the passionate moments shared with Wanda just the night before and again this morning.
Your face fails to hide anything and Natasha chuckles at you knowingly.
“Aren't there better things to spy on than our personal lives?” Wanda asks, the tips of her ears turning a pink hue.
Natasha laughs lightly, her arms crossed over her chest. “I can’t help it when the evidence is all around,” she teases, while you groan in embarrassment, hiding your face in your hands.
She then pretends to sniff the air, prompting a flustered Wanda to hurriedly nudge her towards the door before she can make any more cheeky remarks.
-
Steve is not happy.
But he isn't frowning either.
He has that ever-present solemn look on his face, and the only giveaway that something's off is the small patch he missed while shaving his chin earlier. Just as Vision is about to mention it, Natasha silently warns him off with a subtle shake of her head.
Steve leans forward, resting his hands on the table, his knuckles white with tension. “Wanda, seriously? Again? I can't keep covering for you every time you break the rules.” The disappointment in his eyes says more than his words ever could.
Wanda, defiant, steps forward. “If I hadn't been breaking those rules, Y/N would be in some corner of the world right now, being used by those monsters for their wicked games.”
“That doesn't justify your recklessness. We have protocols for a reason.”
Wanda's eyes flash with determination. “And sometimes, those protocols fall short, Steve. Y/N needed protection, and I gave it.”
Steve drags a hand through his hair, attempting to keep his composure, but it's slipping away with each passing second. “It's not just about the safety of one individual, Wanda. It's about the safety of the entire team. If we don't trust each other to follow the rules, then how can we function as a team?”
“Oh, cut the bullshit, Steve,” Natasha says sharply from behind them. “Half of these rules are outdated, and you know it. If Tony came up with these, you wouldn't agree to half of them anyway.”
Steve's eyes narrow at Natasha, a silent question in them.
She doesn't flinch. “Wanda did what she thought was right, and she's not the only one bending rules around here. Some rules are meant to be questioned, especially if they compromise the safety of our own.”
“But I’m not one of you right?” you chime in, surprising everyone, but Wanda most of all. Throughout the ride back to the compound, you'd been uncharacteristically silent, leaving Wanda tempted on more than one occasion to delve into your thoughts, seeking answers.
“Y/N,” Wanda mutters, but you raise a hand, stopping her, your eyes trained on Steve.
“I understand the need for rules, for protocols,” you say, your voice steady. “But this entire conversation assumes that I'm just some defenseless outsider. Wanda did what she did to protect me, yes. But she also did it because she knows what I'm capable of and how my abilities, and the knowledge I possess, could've been misused.”
Taking a step forward, Wanda catches a fleeting glimpse of the person you once were in the way you now stand before Steve. “The truth is, I'm not sure where I belong—here or anywhere else. But I do know this,” you say, pausing to look at Wanda and smiling. “I belong with her.”
Wanda meets your smile, her eyes shining in the wake of your confession. If the choice were hers, the two of you would be anywhere but here—maybe in a distant place where you could learn to find happiness, unburdened by duties and weight of the world.
Natasha, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, comments, “Well, this day just got a lot more interesting.”
Steve's shoulders sag, and for a moment, he appears older than his years, the burden of leadership is evident in every line of his face. “Wanda, I understand more than anyone the pull of duty and personal attachment. It's not always about the bigger picture, sometimes it's about the person standing next to you.”
He looks directly at you. “You still don't remember everything, Y/N. And with your powers resurfacing, it complicates matters. You can't just be thrown back into the role of an Avenger. You're essentially starting from scratch. There will be evaluations, both physical and mental. Training. Reacclimation. The compound isn't the ideal place for that.”
He then turns to Wanda, “But Wanda, you belong here with us. You're an Avenger.”
“Perhaps,” Wanda says before standing next to you and interlacing your fingers together. “But I also belong with Y/N. If I have to choose, then—”
“Maybe you don’t have to,” A voice from outside announces. The room's automatic doors slide open, revealing Tony Stark. 
Steve regards him with a short nod. “Tony.”
“Interesting conversation we're having here,” he says, glancing at the group. “I think I might have a different approach.”
Everyone looks to him expectantly. But he turns to you and says, “What if we could get your memories back, Y/N?”
Wanda straightens up, her attention immediately drawn to Tony's words. “What do you mean?”
Tony taps a holographic tablet that suddenly appears in his hand. An intricate blueprint springs to life in the air, hovering above it. “While you guys were deep in your heart-to-heart, I've been in touch with T'Challa in Wakanda.”
“Wakanda? What do they have to do with this?” Steve asks.
Tony continues, “They've developed a technology that accesses areas of the brain we've barely touched on. Something that's way ahead of anything we've seen or worked on. If Y/N's memories are locked away somewhere in there,” Tony gestures to your head, “I’m not promising anything, but they might have the key.”
You swallow hard, Tony’s proposition sinking in. The idea of venturing to Wakanda, a place both unfamiliar and undeniably imposing, is overwhelming. But if it brings back your memories…
“I’ll do it,” you tell them.
“I’m coming with you,” Wanda says.
Steve hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wanda, it's not that simple. It's a highly sensitive mission, and with everything that's happened recently…”
“Steve,” Wanda cuts in, “I'm not asking for permission. I'm telling you.”
He lets out a weary sigh. “Tony? What do you think?”
“Why are you even asking me, Cap? You're the captain here. And if I remember correctly,” he adds with a smirk, “I'm not the one who can assign Wanda a 'mission' to formally accompany Y/N to Wakanda.”
Wanda catches onto Tony's implication immediately. “That's right. This can simply be a mission assignment. Y/N's retrieval of their memories is crucial, and who better to assist and protect them than me?”
“She's correct,” Vision interjects. “The restoration of Y/N's memories is of utmost importance. Wanda is uniquely qualified to help and ensure their safety.”
Natasha chuckles from the back, “Looks like you're cornered, Rogers. Majority rules.” 
Steve looks between you and Wanda. After a moment, he nods slowly, a hint of a smile appearing at the corners of his lips. “Alright,” he concedes. “Wanda, you'll accompany Y/N to Wakanda. It's a mission.”
Wanda exhales, relief flooding her features. She turns to you, squeezing your hand, “We'll do this together.”
Tony, satisfied, adds, “And just to be clear, I'm always up for a trip to Wakanda. Count me in.”
From the doorway, a grin appears on Bucky’s face. “Great timing,” he comments, sauntering in. “I’ve been meaning to make a trip back to Wakanda. Now I can hitch a ride with you all.”
Natasha, already with a sly smile, says, “I’ll make the sandwiches. Wakandan cuisine is great, but I know how some of you are with new food.”
Sam, who’s been eavesdropping with Bucky, rolls his eyes from behind her. “Speak for yourself. Last time you tried their spicy dish, I thought we'd need to call in a medic.”
Steve looks around at his team, utterly confused. “Why is everyone suddenly so eager to go to Wakanda? This isn't a field trip.”
Bruce, peeking from behind Sam, adds, “Well, I’ve heard they have some impressive labs. Wouldn’t mind taking a look myself.”
Steve throws his hands up in mock surrender. “I give up. I can't control any of you.”
You laugh, nudging Wanda playfully. “Looks like it’s going to be a full house.”
Rather than reply, Wanda tugs you aside for a more private moment. “You do have a place here, you know? With all of us, as family, not just beside me.”
“It doesn’t feel like I’ve earned it,” you admit.
“You have,” Wanda says softly, leaning in to place a tender kiss on your cheek. “You just haven't realized it yet.”
Before you can react further, the door bursts open again and Daisy storms in, her face lighting up when she sees you. In an instant, she's wrapping her arms around you in a tight embrace. You stiffen slightly, taken aback by the sudden gesture from someone you don’t recall knowing. But not wanting to be rude, you return the embrace lightly.
Wanda clears her throat pointedly, and Daisy's eyes widen in realization. She pulls back, a sheepish grin forming. “Sorry, I got carried away. I just missed you,” she chuckles, but the apologetic glance she shoots Wanda suggests she remembers very well whose territory she's treading on.
“Hey, I’m Daisy,” she says with a grin, extending her hand to you. “We’re friends, you know. Actually, you’re my favorite teammate.”
From the corner of your eyes, you catch Wanda's expression, tight and slightly guarded. You smirk inwardly, amused by her obvious display of possessiveness.
Taking her hand, you give it a friendly squeeze. “I’m sorry, Daisy,” you mutter, letting go. “I don’t remember.”
“Don’t worry about it. On the bright side, at least you won’t remember all the embarrassing moments we’ve had together.” 
Puzzled, you ask, “What moments?”
Before Daisy can answer, Steve yells over the growing chatter in the room. “Alright, everyone! Thirty minutes to pack. We're headed to Wakanda.”
Before you can process what’s happening, Wanda’s hand wraps around yours, pulling you towards the door. You're yanked forward, stumbling slightly in her rush. Glancing over your shoulder, you manage a quick, “Sorry, Daisy. See you soon?”
Daisy just chuckles, shooting you and Wanda a knowing, amused smile. 
-
The sun dips low over Wakanda, painting the city and its green expanse in rich gold. The past couple of days blur with laughs, music, and dance as everyone celebrates the homecoming of old friends. But as the last aircraft departs, leaving a trail of smoke behind, the compound becomes eerily silent, except for the two of you.
The suite you're given overlooks the heart of Wakanda. From the balcony, the lulling sound of the waterfalls adds to the allure of the den you and Wanda have created within the room. Time seems to lose meaning. You seize every moment, every opportunity, tasting and immersing in each other fully.
The days merge into nights and back into days. You emerge, mostly together, to grab a quick meal. The only other commitment you hold is to work with Shuri, who is eager and hopeful that her technology can unlock your memories.
On one of those ordinary nights, you lie on your back, gazing at the ceiling. For once, your mind is at peace, void of its usual chatter, because you've never experienced contentment quite like this before. Beside you, Wanda lies, her skin bare and glistening, evidence of your ardor still evident between her thighs.
Wanda traces patterns on your arm, her fingers light and feather-soft. “You know,” she begins, her voice husky from recent activities, “This is the best mission I've ever been on. I don't want it to end.”
Turning to face her, you take in her flushed cheeks and tousled hair. Your hand reaches up to tuck a stray lock behind her ear. “It doesn't have to end, Wanda,” you reply, locking your eyes with hers. “With or without my memories, with or without my abilities, I'll always stay by your side.”
She pulls you closer, seeking comfort in your embrace. “Promise?” she murmurs.
You smile, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead. “Promise.”
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The GED
Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader Summary - There's more than one way to be smart. Or so you've been told. But how on Earth do you go about proving that you're not (the stupid, illiterate Avenger) dumb?
Anon's 1K Celebration | The GED Series List
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"Can you please just listen to me?" Sam begs you. "I'm telling you this is a bad idea."
"Or it's an amazing idea and it'll all be for the better!" you counter, plating the last of your freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.
He snatches a cookie from the plate when he thinks you're not watching, "Or you'll make an already strained relationship like ten times worse."
You glare at him, snatching the cookie back and placing it back on the plate, "Or by then end of the day we'll have a new set of friends."
Bucky groans, entering the room just in time to hear your rebuttal to Sam's negativity, "Please, not more friends. I don't like the ones I have as it is."
"See?" Sam wildly gestures to Bucky. "When do we ever agree on anything? It just proves that this is a terrible idea!"
"Hi," Bucky finally greets you, gently pecking your lips. "Missed you. Now, who exactly are we trying to make friends with?"
"The SHIELD agents downstairs," you blithely reply.
Bucky quirks an eyebrow at you, "Why? They hate us."
"That's exactly what I said!" Sam frantically exclaims.
"Have we ever asked ourselves why they hate us?" you muse. "Maybe we need to be a little nicer to them."
"Or maybe it's because they're bitter and jealous that we're better than them," Sam remarks.
"Well, it's definitely not because of Sam's incredible sense of humility," Bucky sarcastically retorts.
"Shut up," Sam snarks. "And we are better. Our stats are better, we get first pick of assignments, our mission times are like a third of theirs, Fury trusts us a hell of a lot more, and we get all the good snacks."
"And that means we can't be friends?" you rhetorically ask. "We work together all the time!"
"Listen, it's not that bad of a deal," Bucky tries to convince you. "They tolerate us. We tolerate them. It's never caused a problem on missions or anything, so who cares? Not everyone in this world is going to like you."
"Who else doesn't like me?" you frantically question, quirking an eyebrow at Bucky.
"Everyone likes you," Bucky assures you.
"Except the people downstairs," Sam teases.
"That's it!" You throw your hands up in frustration. "I'm going down there. I'm just going to bring these cookies down there and talk to them. They're just people, I'm sure they're all really nice!"
"Nice going," Bucky mutters to Sam, elbowing him in the ribs. "Come on, can't we just leave well enough alone? Isn't it enough that the people who actually know you like you? And not to mention, I like you and I don't like anybody."
"Aww.." you coo at Bucky, caressing his cheek. "Nope, too late, I'm committed."
"Why?" Sam groans. "You're never going to get everyone in the world to like you!"
"Oh, yes, I can! I've spend my entire time out in the world cultivating a personality that's impossible not to like just to satisfy my compulsive people pleasing tendencies."
Bucky's eyebrows furrow as a teasing smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, "People really don't see this side of you enough."
Sam nods, "You're a little scary when you think people don't like you."
"Scary or strangely endearing?" you wonder.
"Scary! Definitely scary!"
Bucky sighs to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose, "You're not going to leave this alone, are you?"
You beam at the two of them, scooping up the plate of cookies, "Not even a little bit."
"It's a bad idea!" Sam bellows down the corridor as you walk away from him.
You roll your eyes as you step onto the elevator and tell Friday to take you to the third floor, where the SHIELD agents typically hung out.
It wasn't a bad idea. It was a great idea. What could go wrong with trying to bring people closer together? They were just people. They were people you had to trust with your lives, why not get to know them a little bit more?
As you step off the elevator, you immediately notice that this layout is almost identical to the one upstairs, except without all the extravagant touches of Tony Stark. You amble down the hallway, looking for a sign of anyone. You figure if the layout is the same, their common room will be in the same place as the one upstairs. 
You're right, you realize when you start to hear faint voices from where you thought their common room would be. Even all the way down the hall, voices echo off the walls as you make your way closer.
You certainly don't mean to eavesdrop or listen into a conversation that you're not supposed to hear.
No, you definitely don't mean to eavesdrop on your new friends, but the open floor plan does nothing to dampen the sounds of their booming voices. 
"Yeah, I leave first thing tomorrow," an unfamiliar voice sighs.
"Who with?" someone else asks.
You don't like the way they spit Bucky's name out in disgust, "Barnes."
"Oh, he's the worst!" the same voice dramatically groans. You silently scoff at the insinuation that Bucky was the worst. "He just sits and stares like he's got nothing better to do."
"Please, I'd take him over his girlfriend any day," a different female scoffs.
You freeze at the mention of yourself. You know you should go. You shouldn't be listening to this. The things they were saying were definitely not nice, but neither was eavesdropping.
"Oh come on, she's not that bad."
You sigh in relief, feeling a little better that someone was defending you. You could go upstairs and tell Sam that he was wrong, not all the SHIELD agents were that bad.
And in the next second, you were proved very, very wrong.
"She's just such an idiot!" Your stomach twists in knots as the same SHIELD agent continues complaining about you. This is what you got for eavesdropping, you tell yourself. They're entitled to their own opinions about you. Better yet, you could change their minds and show them that there was more to you than what meets the eye. You just don't want to believe that people can be this mean, that it's so easy for them to be this casually cruel. They just didn't know you. You were sure that if they did know you all, they wouldn't be saying such awful things. "I don't know what everyone sees in her, but I swear I can see right through that whole Sunshine act."
"I dunno, she acted like that on the last mission I had with her."
"She didn't let up? Not once?"
"Nope! The whole time."
"I'd rather get caught by the bad guys then deal with her for a whole week."
"Who knows, maybe Barnes likes them dumb," the agent giggles. The words feel like a punch to the gut. You want to leave, to turn on your heels and pretend like you never heard a thing, but you're frozen in shock. "Like a Stepford Wife thing."
"If that's true, then they'll be together forever," the same agent, the one going on a mission with Bucky tomorrow, jokes. 
"What do you think they even talk about?"
"Who knows?"
"My question is what kind of adult makes it knowing as little as she does?"
"The kind with Fury in their back pocket."
"Exactly! It's the only reason she's even apart of the team. I'd bet anything she's never even picked up a book."
"Can I tell you guys something?" an agent exclaims. "Someone got into a bunch of their files upstairs. And guess what? She can't even read! She's illiterate! An illiterate Avenger!"
Your blood runs cold. Those were private. They held so much intimate information about you and your history and they were using it to make fun of you, make fun of the people that chose to love you.
You weren't sure what was worse, that they were using your past to make fun of you, or that they knew intimate details of your past, they knew the torment you were put through as a child and they still thought it was funny, they still used it as a way to belittle you. As though you had any control over it. As though it was your fault.
It's only then that you realize that tears are staining your cheeks, that you're still standing in the hallway with a plate of cookies as a peace offering for the SHIELD agents making fun of you and your friends. 
"Probably doesn't even know what a book is. Maybe her next mission should be a day of kindergarten."
It's mean. It's meaner than they have any right to be, but a lightbulb goes off in your head as you finally regain the ability to leave.
You furiously wiped away your tears, storming down the corridor and back to your side of the Compound. You leave the plate of pastries on the counter for your team mates.
And you made a decision right then and there. You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't try to convince them that you were smart. You would just do better. Be better. You were going to show them that you could be more than the illiterate Avenger. 
In that very moment, you decide your very next mission: School.
AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Grumpy Sunshine Series Anon's 1K Celebration
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georgiapeach30513 · 8 months
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Your Mark On Me, Part 2
Summary: you realize just how mean Steve can really be.
Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader
Rating: explicit
Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, dark, stalking, non con/dub con elements, groping, dirty talk, chasing (chase kink), slapping, humiliation, audience, degradation, pussy worship, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), cameras without knowledge, multiple orgasms, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 6.9K
Previous
Series Masterlist
*tattoo edit created by @randomagnes0210
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
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“What is she doing now?” Bucky takes a long drag of his cigarette, while you obliviously bounce into your bedroom in your panties and oversized shirt. Nothing else. Your nipples are pressing up against white shirt, and Bucky chuckles as you lay down on your belly. “You were looking at her body weren’t you?”
“How do you expect me not to look at her body, your highness?” Your legs bend at the knee as you open up a text book, but your eyes quickly drift over to the bottle of pills before sitting back up to grab one. “She’s got a good set of tits.”
“You’re enjoying this too much,” Steve growls at him. Bucky knew his place. He’d keep an eye on you, but would never touch. It was par for the course with Bucky. No doubt his friend would watch you take Steve’s cock like a good girl eventually. It was just what had to happen.
“What is she doing? She putting one of those pills in her pretty little mouth?”
“She is,” Bucky tilts his head to the side as you root around in a drawer for something. “She’s looking in a drawer beside her bed, Stevie.”
“I’ll be there shortly,” he hangs up his phone, and snaps his finger at his driver. He needs to get there quickly. Let Bucky remove his eyes from whatever you were setting yourself up to do.
Stupid girl. Once he has you where he wants you, he’s going to have to talk to you about leaving your blinds and curtains open for any disgusting man to watch you. He’ll hold off for now. The thought of you putting on a show just for him excites him too much to go ahead and let you know this isn’t acceptable.
Pulling into your apartment complex, Steve’s lip curls up in disgust as he walks over to Bucky. “This isn’t good enough. She’s not even on campus. Who is supposed to be watching her?” Bucky turns to look at Steve with a blank face.
“She doesn’t seem to mind,” Bucky gives Steve a wink, and turns his back to your window. “She found what she was looking for.”
“What is it?” Steve’s face heats up in anger as he thinks about anything inside of you, but himself.
Bucky rolls his eyes, peeking at his friend. Steve’s jaw is pulsing, waiting on Bucky’s answer that wasn’t coming fast enough. If it wasn’t for you laying a pillow down, and straddling it, Steve would have already been marching into your room. “What the fuck does she have stuffed down her panties?”
“Easy, killer,” Bucky’s voice is so animated that Steve shoots a hard look at him, and then goes back to watching you. Timid. You weren’t even sure what to touch on your body. It made him want you that much more. Sheltered, and probably taught that sex was bad. Steve rolls his eyes thinking about how he was going to have to work so much harder. He loved a challenge.
“It took me awhile to find it,” Steve gives Bucky a mere split second of his attention, because you start to grind down on the pillow, and he sighs. “Don’t get hard standing beside me. This thing is kinda cute, it’s called a Cute Little Fucker.”
Steve finally looks at the picture of your toy that Bucky was able to procure. “That doesn’t go inside of her?” Of course you would pick out this cute little bug looking thing. He was falling even more. Sweet girl needed cute sex toys.
“No. It vibrates, and she grinds over it. Is she grinding yet, buddy?” Steve has to bite his tongue as your body goes on autopilot, and you bite on your lip so your roommate can’t hear your pretty sounds. The roommate…another thing Steve was going to have to deal with.
“What did the other toys look like?” Steve switches from foot to foot. Bucky’s eyes are amazing and he knows that his right hand man saw everything in your treasure chest.. Steve’s cock twitches, becoming too uncomfortable. “Bucky!”
“She only had one other one, and no, it wasn’t a penetrating toy. So unless your pretty little Dovey fucks her fingers, that pussy is indeed ready to mold to your cock.”
Steve grimaces as you halt abruptly. Pulling that green vibe out of your panties and staring at it. It is hardly even wet. Steve knows you can do better than that, he’s made it happen, “She didn’t even allow herself to come. My my, am I going to have to teach her?” It wasn’t even that for you. It was the fact that the stupid toy didn’t feel as good as his leg, and you curse yourself for even thinking that.
Steve was someone you weren’t ever going to see again. You are bound and determined that next semester you don't need Adderall. You’ll make sure to start studying earlier, and not rely on outside sources. And now? When you should be studying you are left wanting more. Imagining those tattooed fingers pumping into you, while you stare down at them.
Steve was dangerous, and bad news. You just had to stay away from him. That’s all. Hearing a knock on the door, you roll your eyes. You had to lock the door because you knew what you were going to need before studying.
Jumping up you unlock the door, and give your roommate a smile, “What the fuck is that?” Steve says too loud as some boy leans against your door. “This is absolutely unacceptable. If he touches her,” he pops his neck, glowering at the man that you share an apartment with. He’ll punish you for this later, but this…it won’t happen.
“Roommate, Jack Benjamin. It’s his junior year at the university. He’s studying law, and keeps his GPA at 3.9. Comes from a rich family. Looks like he pays more than half of the rent and all utilities. Well, daddy pays. Guess that’s why he’s the roommate.”
“I really don’t give a shit. He’s in that apartment with my girl. Get rid of him. I’ll pay for everything,” Steve turns to leave, but Bucky clears his throat. “What?”
“Jackie boy is not interested in your little birdie. In fact, I’d say he’d be more interested in you. So you still want me to kill me, or nah?” He flips his phone around, flashing a picture on his social media of Jack on a date.
“Fine. He can live today. If he touches her…Bucky! I want her unscathed and safe. People saw her with me, saw her juices on my leg. I have enemies, and those enemies would use my Dove to get to me. Make sure that doesn’t happen. And if she fucks herself, I need a phone call. I need to know if she’s riding her pillow, using a toy or her fingers, and I need to know if she says my name. I need to hear when the first time she thinks of me and comes.”
Steve gives you one last look. Watching to see if that boy looks at you or touches you, he doesn’t. He’s safe for today. “Steve?” His eyes don't leave you, but he nods to Bucky, letting him know he heard him. “What are your plans for this sweet Dove?”
“I want to break her and own her. I want her to miss the thought of me not around her, craving me with every fiber of her being, and then I’ll make her my wife. She’s perfect. She just doesn’t realize it yet. Let me know if she wears another skirt again. How much fun it’s going to be with that sweet one, she’s got a bit of a spark to her. She told me no. Have a fun night. Keep me updated, and if she takes another pill, let me know. I won’t have someone addicted to pills. Keep her safe.”
He’s satisfied, for now, with the way Jack didn’t touch you. His eyes didn’t wander over what was his. But when Jack points out that deep red bruise on your neck, you slap your hand over it. It’s too late. You were his, and one day you would realize it.
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Why haven’t you left the building?
You glance up from your phone, looking all around you. There wasn’t a prickly feeling of being watching, and your friends had meandered out already. Leaving you to stare at your notes. Having to look back over them, just to see if you had gotten the answers correct on the test.
And now an unknown number was waiting on you. Looking through your planner, you didn’t have a scheduled lunch or anything. You rack your brain trying to think if there was someone that you promised coffee with or anything, but still nothing.
I am waiting, and I don’t like to wait.
Thinking it best to respond, you start typing up something when your phone alerts you of him typing more.
Dovey, if you don’t walk your pretty little ass out here I’m going to be angry.
Don’t defy me, little bird.
You roll your eyes, thinking you have seen the last of him. You didn’t need anymore pills. The last final had been taken, and now you had a bit of a break before next semester. He had to go. You had to tell him his services were no longer needed. But a scene at school is not what you need.
Gathering your things you walk towards the exit, and there he was. Legs spread out wide, his neck dripping in gold and diamonds. Each tattooed finger was enhanced by all the rings. Hearing everyone’s whispers, starts to make you lose a bit of self control, but all it was going to take was a quick talk. And everyone could quit their pointing.
Even though he had a beautiful face, he was dangerous. Sin and mischief seeped out of his pours. He had the air of Satan, and everyone on campus could feel it. They might not know exactly who he was, but they definitely had bought his product.
Standing in front of him, you look down at his eyes. Even standing you still feel small. Wanting to crawl up inside of yourself as your body was screaming out a warning of peril to come. “Steve, you can’t be here.”
“And why not, Dove? I see a few of my distributors here. They see you talking to the monster. Their filthy little eyes are casting up and down your body, and I don’t like it. I have to let them know that you are off limits. You get what you need directly from me. And I will gouge everyone’s eyes out that looks at you!” His voice gets a bit louder, and you put a hand on his shoulder, hopefully calming him.
“People look. It’s not that big of a deal. They,” your words catch in your throat as his eyes roam down the front of your body. Moving with the curves of you. Looking like he is trying to undress you in his mind. Tsking when he gets to your skirt. A big meaty hand slides up your thigh, and under your skirt, lifting it up. You quickly slap his hand away, knowing everybody can see what he’s doing.
“I’ll allow that one time,” my god why was he like this? What did he want, and why wouldn’t he leave you alone? “You make it a habit of wearing pleated skirts? It’s not so different from the first time I saw you.”
“Skirts and dresses are kind of my thing,” you shrug because it wasn’t a big deal, and he was making it one. He could only think of the easy access to you.
Steve’s eyes still roam over your form, itching to lift up your skirt because he needed to know, “What kind of panties do you have on?”
“What the fuck?” You screech, averting your eyes around you. They are still staring at you. Judging you for being around this man.
“Don’t talk with a filthy mouth out in public. Why do I make you so nervous?”
“You don’t,” you try to take a step back, but his hand goes back to your thigh, giving it a squeeze, and pulling you more in between his legs. The legs that you hadn’t stopped thinking about for the past five days.
Looking down at his thigh makes you want to shudder. Remembering euphoria coursing through your blood. Even the humiliation of Bucky watching kind of made it better. “Your pulse is rising. I bet if I cupped your pussy, it would be hot as hell.”
“Don’t you dare! There’s people around,” you press your thighs together, creating at least one barrier between Steve’s mitt sized hand, and your core.
“Didn’t stop you from making a mess on me less than a week ago. Had you whimpering, and leaking your pussy juice all over me. That whole club saw what a sloppy little cunt you had. I think even Bucky got a bit of a hard on. You made me so hard that I stroked my cock for an hour, pretending it was your pussy.”
“Steve,” you whisper, trying to pull his inky hand off you. Your thighs press closer together, and you swish them around. A slight bit of relief, but you are quaking. “I need to go.”
“No. You don’t. You’re finished for the semester. But I will allow you to go with me. Come on,” standing up, he pulls at your hand, and you look around at everyone staring at you. Fingers point, and you hear the whispers start. “Let’s go. Get in the car. I’m going to take you on a field trip.”
“But…what do you want with me?” Steve’s mouth turns up into an evil sneer, and one eyebrow sits high on his head. “I — I thought the payment for the pills was…you know.”
“Go on. Say it. I dare you. Tell me how you coming on my leg was not the best feeling in the world,” you stand in silence staring up at him. You are terrified, but you don’t want to react. He was playing games with you, and making a public scene in your space.
“Tell me how you ride your pillow every night, pretending it's my leg. Whispering my name as you refuse to allow yourself to come. I bet you got so much pent up tension in between your thighs, you can hardly sleep without waking up to your fingers playing with your clit.”
“Stop,” your voice cracks, and you can’t look at him anymore. The vein on your neck is visibly telling Steve just how fast your blood was pumping, but also how hard. What he wouldn’t give to just nibble on that vein. He knows he can make you kneel before him by biting down just a tiny bit. His mark from the weekend is already fading. He’s going to remedy that shortly.
“Dovey, didn’t your mama ever tell you not to get involved with a drug lord? You owe me,” he smiles, still dragging you along after him.
“But…I offered you money. You let me go.”
“You had finals. I couldn't keep you from them. And your money's no good with me.”
“Then what do you want?” He stops his movement, and turns to look at you. A faint glimmer of softness runs through his eyes as he steps right up to you. His hard chest pushes into yours.
The back of his knuckles brush over your cheek so sweetly. Relaxing you ever so slightly when your insides are ready to explode. Ready to burst right out in front of everyone. They are still staring, and you hate him for it. Moving his hand behind your head, his fingers tickle at the nape of your neck. Pulling you forward, and he takes a long, slow inhale before stopping right at the shell of your ear.
“I want you.”
“What?” Whimpering as you lean in closer to him. Your body craves him even though your foggy brain was crying for you to run away. Your body currently desperate for more attention than your brain was able to control.
“I only want you. Now, get in the car. We’re going on a field trip,” your body moves on its own accord as he gives your hand a little tug, leading you to his blacked out SUV, and you crawl into the back seat with him.
“Sam, take us to that playground on the edge of town. The one no one goes to. Tell Bucky to meet us there,” words didn’t make sense as you realize what you’re doing. In a fucking car with a fucking drug lord going to a fucking playground.
He said he wanted you. What did that even mean? He wanted to sacrifice a virgin? He wanted to take from you? Wait a minute…
“How did you know?”
“Hmm?” Steve looks up at you with a crooked grin, reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his phone, starting to look through it. You can’t tell if he’s ignoring you, or continuing to play his games.
“How did you know about the pillow?” He flips his phone around, showing you a video of you grinding on your pillow, and only one word on your lips. Steve. “You bastard!”
He turns up the volume without a response. Panting. Deep, labored moans, and you. Looking so frustrated as you grab out the toy, and toss it on the other side of the room, and then the softest moan of your name, followed by fuck. The camera tilts down enough to see Steve’s cream coat his thick fingers. Fucker was outside your window, masturbating, while you was fucking a pillow. And then had the audacity to show you his cum.
“What is wrong with you?” You don’t want to look at him, so you turn to look out the window. Fucking asshole. He lets out a guttural laugh, scooting over closer to you. You can’t escape him in this car. And every inch of him crowding you makes you feel like you're being squeezed by a boa constrictor.
“You didn’t like seeing what you did to me? Never mind the fact that you're denying yourself release. Seeing you hump that pillow every night was bound to make me hard. If you’re enjoying yourself, why can’t I?”
“Fuck your hand at home. Why are you…” Steve’s fingers dig into your cheeks, twisting your head to look back at him. Giving your cheeks a hard squeeze as his eyes narrow at you.
“I thought I told you not to talk with a filthy mouth.”
“You said in public,” you mumble. Your jaw burns as he squeezes even harder. The pressure drawing a line at being painful.
“What I really meant is do not use that filthy language, unless I’m inside of you.”
“You’ll never be inside me.”
“I won’t? Sam,” his driver reaches to the soundboard on the car, and the entire vehicle is filled with your whispered moans. And the repetition of you whispering his name. Over and over again. Asshole had found a way to get into your bedroom. Anger and embarrassment swirls inside of you. Realizing that he was watching everything you did in your alone time.
“Let’s face it, Dovey, you knew you fucked up by walking into that club. What you didn’t know was that I have a very specific taste, and your cherry is exactly what I want. You can’t even help yourself from envisioning me fucking you. And you better be glad. We’ve got a list. And if your roommate so much as kisses you, you’ll be gifted with his lips on your doorsteps. I don’t share. They can watch, but they’ll never get to touch you. Never even get to taste you unless they’re licking your juices off the floor.”
“What is wrong with you?” The alarms inside your body was ringing so loud, you couldn’t even think. They are begging and pleading for you to get out, but you’re immobile.
“Did your gut tell you not to come to see me?”
“Well, yeah, but….”
“And still you disregarded that voice, and showed up anyways. I’m an obsessive person, Dovey, and I always get what I want. And what I want right now is you,” you feel like teeth of a brutal animal trap has enclosed on you. Painful and scary. Trapped, and feeling like there was no way out.
“You just want to fuck me. Please, don’t…don’t touch me,” you finally feel fear as your body trembles. Flight or fight is a myth. You just quake with raw fear.
“I won’t be splitting your cunt open until you beg me to. Now get out of the fucking car,” struggling to move with how bad you are shaking, you scramble out of the car. Eyes twisting around and looking for a way out.
“Sam’s too fast, and Bucky is faster. You really want to run, Dovey, be my guest. I love going hunting for sweet little birds,” cocky son of a bitch stands there, crossing his arms over his chest, daring you to make a run for it. “I’m a reasonable man. But don’t test me.”
“I’m not begging.”
“You’re not. But I don’t have to stick my cock in your cunt to have some fun. Do go on. Run,” he cackles out a laugh when you sprint towards the woods. You may not get far, but you could hide. Hide long enough for him to leave.
Realizing just how stupid you are when Steve stomps into the woods. He doesn’t even run. While you're bolting, and hiding behind trees, he walks calmly. God, he’s going to kill you. He’s going to pull your panties down, and make you take him in front of Bucky and Sam. He promised he wouldn’t if you weren’t begging. Did he promise? You can’t even remember.
“Dovey, you’re breathing too hard,” his voice is too close. As long as his legs are in two strides he’d only be feet from him. Exhaling slowly, you stand up from your crouched position, and haul ass. Didn’t even care to look back. Just run.
Running through the thick woods and getting pelted in the face with branches is not how you want to spend your evening. You were supposed to go home, and crash on the bed. Finally resting after a week of hardly any sleep.
Twilight begins to turn to dark, and the woods get to where you can’t even see an inch in front of you. If you could you might not have tripped over a fucking limb. Trying to scramble up when a thick hand grabs your ankle. “And that’s about enough of that, little bird.”
Steve pulls you across the forest floor, and right to him. Leaning over you with a devil may care grin, “You can’t escape me. It’ll be in your best interest to remember that. It’ll help you out a lot.”
“What do you want?” You cry as Steve lifts you up, and carries you on his shoulder.
“I thought I made it clear, I want you.”
“I’m not begging, Steve. I’m not begging!” Tears invade your vision, knowing no matter how calm he is that he is pissed that you actually ran. “Steve, please, I’m not…”
“Please can be considered a form of begging. So if you could do my aching cock a favor and stop using it that would be great,” he grunts, readjusting his pants, and you cry harder. “Tears aren’t helping you either. I can’t wait to see your tears when you take my cock.”
“You sick fuck. Why are you — ow!” Screaming as heat radiates on your ass where Steve’s meaty hand slapped you. The sting races right to your core, and that only makes you want to cry more. What was he doing to you? And why did your body like it?
“Can you stop whining before I give you something to cry about?”
“That hurt!” A deep desire to start biting on whatever you could get of his backside comes over you, but that would be a terrible mistake.
“A second one will hurt more. Tell your cunt that’s throbbing on my shoulder how much it hurts. Dovey, I’m not the only sick fuck here. But if you say that word one more time, and my cock isn’t so deep inside of you that you feel it in your throat, you will have hell to pay. Have I made myself clear?”
He’s a sick asshole. Lighting your body on fire in ways that you didn’t think possible, and it thoroughly pisses you off. “Dove! Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes.”
“Next time, say, ‘Yes, sir,’' he chuckles, and you hate him more. How did you hate him so much, and yet your body yearns for him? You are the one with the brain, and you tell your body that you will never beg for Steve Rogers.
“Stay there,” he says, sitting you on a set of low jungle gym bars. Your feet dangle to the ground, and you give your eyes a moment to look around. Adjusting to the incoming darkness as Sam and Bucky flank either side of you two. “I believe I asked you a question earlier, and not only did you not answer, you denied me a chance to see for myself.”
“And what is that?” Steve’s hand goes up to your face, giving it a little tap as you glare up at him. “What was that for, your majesty?”
“Don’t be cute. I don’t like the attitude. Just because I have added you to my favorites lists doesn’t mean you get to act like a brat. Brats get punished, and next time the slap won’t be that soft.”
“You gonna hit my face like you did my a…butt?” Your mouth is wanting to talk back faster than your brain can compute, and you know that pushing him beyond his limits will only get you in trouble.
“No, you need a good spanking, and that wasn’t even one. You fucking ran from me. Me. Steve Rogers. I have two men with me. Darling, we’re retired military, you can’t escape us. I’m going to ask you one more time, and you better provide a satisfactory answer, or there will be hell to pay.”
The two of you stare at each other, and Steve smirks. You are cute, naive, and just the right amount of stubbornness that he loves. Breaking you is going to be so much more rewarding.
“What kind of panties do you have on?” Your face has to be staring at him with the most disdain that you have ever felt. He is a psycho.
“Why is that your business?” Wrong answer. He gives you another slap to your cheek, but this time there is much more force.
“Dovey, you’re mine. You belong to me. And when you walk around with skirts on around all those boys, you better be wearing the right panties. What do you have on?” Don’t answer. You tilt your chin up to the sky, and Steve has had enough.
Holding onto your legs, he forces you backwards. Leaving you hanging upside down, with your ass out, and panties on full display. Your hands hold firmly onto the bar, in fear of him letting you fall to ground, but the way he was staring hard at your nether regions has your pussy pulsing so hard.
“See. Now this just pisses me off. Do you see this?” He asks, looking at Sam and Bucky. “Do you fucking see this? Your ass is hanging out. Is that what you want? Those little boys to get a glimpse of your ass, and your fucking pussy lips?” Don’t answer. Just hang there. This will all be over soon.
“But do you see that?” You can hear the grin on his lips. Bucky and Sam are too close to you, and all three gaze at your exposed self. “Dovey, you are a sick fuck. You have made a mess of these panties, and we can see your pulse. So tell me how you don’t like this. Clenching around nothing. You wanted attention with these panties, well we’re giving it to you, princess,” his voice gets louder. Or is he getting closer?
“Steve, don’t!” You screech as his finger hooks under the gusset of your panties. The two of you mewl when his finger touches your drenched folds. It was less than a second, but you can feel it throughout your whole body.
“Step…back,” he struggles to get out. Waiting long enough for his men to step aside before exposing your tight little hole. “My God, I believe I see heaven.”
“Steve, stop.”
“I can’t.”
“I’m not begging.”
“And I’m not touching,” you whimper as he bends down closer. His heated breath on your core sends chill bumps all over your body. He inhales deeply, moving over your center, moaning again. “It seriously is heaven. I bet the taste is divine.”
“No!” Your body finally reacts. He is distracted enough that you’re able to drop down, and you scoot back on the ground. “Stop. I wasn’t begging.”
“My tongue licking up your slit, and tasting that delicious honey was not me penetrating you,” you shake your head, unable to look at him anymore. “Fine. Take ‘em off.”
“What?”
“Take the fucking panties off, and get in the goddamn car. I’ll take you home. But…I want a peek of that pussy. No fabric, just the puss.”
“Steve, can you not leave me alone?”
“No. I’m addicted. And you’re my drug. Take off the panties, and hand them to me. When we get in the car, I want to see your pussy that is crying for me. It’s what I deserve. She’s wet for me,” shivers drift through your body as you stare up at him. He was serious.
“And then you’ll leave me alone,” he shakes his head no, and you feel so defeated.
“Sweetheart, we were able to get cameras, and mics in your bedroom, do you not think I could just stare at your pussy while you sleep? Wouldn’t you rather be awake? It’s your fucking choice. But I still want the fucking panties,” he spins on his heels, walking to the car. Pitching a fit, while your brain and cunt are at war with one another.
“He’s meaner than you think,” Bucky warns, walking towards his bike. “I’d do as he says. Steve is more stubborn than you. And either way, he’s not going to stop.”
“He is giving you a choice,” Sam tilts his head towards the vehicle and taps at the gun on his hip. “I’ll give you a moment of privacy.”
Your chest heaves as you look at Sam and then the car. Steve was kind enough to leave the door open, but gave you no choice to retreat. A choice? A choice ot what? Give him your panties so he can gawk at your panties? Or a choice to be punished while he got harder at your paint? You didn’t understand what his game was, or what he even wanted. Besides you, and that would not happen.
“He doesn’t like to wait,” Sam groans at you, and you start to slowly walk to the blacked out SUV. Looking into the car at Steve who is fuming.
“Get in, and take your fucking panties off before I pull them off you myself,” don’t respond. Just do as he says. He doesn’t even look at you, until you close the door to the vehicle.
Lifting your ass off the seat, you slide your panties off, and put the soiled fabric in Steve’s hand and he smirks. His fingers rub over your slick that coats the fabric. Lifting off and strings of your arousal coats his fingers, before starting to pick up your skirt. “You know what else I want. Put your back on the door, and spread your legs. Give me a glimpse of that delectable pussy.”
“Steve, please…”
“Are you begging? You want me to take that cherry right here?” You shake your no. Feeling your lip start to tremble. “Put your back on the door, and lift your fucking skirt. I want to see what is mine.”
“It’s not yours.”
“But you are. She’s part of you, so she is my pussy,” you whisper no, but Steve scoots closer. Grabbing your knee with one hand, and spreading you further apart. His other hand goes under your skirt, and when he comes into contact with your weeping cunt, your eyes flutter. It is like fire on your skin as he roams through your slit.
“Yeah. You’re mine. And so is this,” his hand on your leg pulls you back enough for him to sink one finger down into your core, and your eyes roll in the back of your head. The sweetest little whimpers on your lips. “Oh…Dovey, she is a tight one. You really are a virgin, huh?”
“Y-y-yeah,” you sob. You couldn’t hide the pleasure you were getting from this, and he wasn’t doing much.
“I checked your drawer, I don’t want you to have toys that penetrate you. This hole right here, along with your ass, and your mouth belong to me,” he curls his finger, pumping into you a few times before you grab his wrist. Trying to pull him out from between your legs, but it was like tugging on a tree.
“Why are you denying yourself an orgasm? Even the other night you stopped before you fully came.”
“Steve, it’s too much. Stop stop stop,” pulling his hand out of your center, he brings it up to your lips. Painting your pout with your own juices like it was lipgloss before popping the finger into his mouth.
Moaning at your taste with a delighted grin, “Best thing I’ve put in my mouth. That is before I suck on your clit. Now, lean on the door, and let me see my pussy.”
“Why me?”
“Because I want you. Quit your fucking stalling before I make you ride the whole way to your apartment with three fingers in your cunt,” you couldn’t get out. Steve would assume to just take what he thought was his.
You take a deep calming breath as you spin to the side. Your ass squeaks on the leather from your arousal that had oozed onto the seat, but he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t utter not one word until you situate your legs further apart. Lifting up your skirt and Steve just stares. Letting out a deep moan, and you yelp.
“What?”
“Steve…you’re…” it’s the first time you have fully looked upon his manhood. You could see his heartbeat in his pants and his cock begs for something to fuck.
“Yeah, I’m fucking hard as a rock. These pants are uncomfortable. But how can I not get hard staring at that work of art? No, it truly is a slice of heaven. Let me taste you,” you shake your head no, trying to cover yourself back up, but Steve gives your legs a quick pull.
Your head goes back to the seat, and his face hovers right over your wide spread pussy. “Steve, she’s a damn virgin.”
“Oh my god,” you whine as Sam gets into the car.
“Better get used to it, sweetheart. Steve is a horny man, and when he wants you, or wants to just look at you, he will.”
“Shh, I’m staring at the face of God,” your eyes roll in the back of your head with his breath alone. He isn’t even touching you, and you are without a doubt a puddle. One that is dripping onto his expensive leather seats.
“It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. She won’t let me taste it, Samual. Dovey, just let me have one lick. Just one swipe from the back of your pussy all the way to that cute little button. Oh my god, Dovey, she is throbbing and swollen. She wants me to nibble on her. Can I?”
“No,” you nod your head yes because that sounded amazing. That pesky brain is still trying to save your soul from the devil.
“I don’t really fucking care,” just as he promised his tongue swipes up your slit. Ending at your clit where he kitten licks it. Flicking his tongue up and down before his lips circle around it, and he gives it a gentle suck. When he hears you moan out his name, he sucks harder. Adding a bit of pressure with his teeth, and your body convulses.
Screaming out his name like a cursed prayer. Lifting off the seat. Your legs try to suffocate him, but Steve would gladly die between your thighs. Your fingers try to cling onto every surface to no avail. Seeing stars when he sucks so hard you black out. Your body limp for a few seconds before you sit up in the seat.
Staring down at Steve who was worried about one thing and one thing only, he wanted to kill you on orgasms. Digging his teeth in again, he lightly scrapes down the swollen nub, and you scream out again. Hitting on his back, but it didn’t matter, Steve would have you in whatever way he wanted.
You buck your hips, flailing around, but nothing mattered. Nothing helped. He just wants you to feel blinding pleasure. And you are. Pleasure so deep into your soul that you feel as if you’re floating. The audience of Sam only adds to your pleasure.
It doesn’t matter if you are wiggling in the seat, kicking, hitting or screaming, Steve doesn’t stop. You can’t even breathe, and Steve continues playing with your sensitive bean. And then…he sinks only finger into your cunt, and you start to speak in another language. Taken to another plane of sin.
“She is sensitive, buddy. I guess the last time she got off was your leg,” Sam’s deep brown eyes look into the mirror at his friend. “Steve, you're going to make her pass out. How many times does she need to come?”
His voice steadily gets louder trying to talk over your noises, but Steve can’t listen. He is drowning in your juices. His oasis. Slurping up your leaking pussy, “Steve! That is enough!”
He pulls off your clit with a pop, and wipes your essence off his beard. Staring down at your sprawled out self. Your clit engorged in pleasure, and you panting like a bitch in heat. “Try and tell me no again, Dovey. We’re here. Walk your sloppy little self up to your room. I’ll be waiting to make sure you get home okay.”
“You’re mean,” your voice is weak. Smoky and worn by the amount of times you had came.
“Yeah, and you got off, and enjoyed it. Don’t ignore my calls again. Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes…sir,” you straighten yourself out as much as you can, and you hobble into your apartment. Ready to strip out of your clothes, and pass out. Getting to your room, you’re ready to scream.
In the middle of your bed is a mound of new “suitable” panties. There are hundreds of them in all colors, and materials. Looking out your window, you spot him. Pants swollen, as he stands there with an evil grin beside Bucky.
Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you don’t have to look to know it’s him. You had a shadow called Bucky who clearly is always around when you’re not with Steve.
I got you a present, Dovey. You’ll find the others are gone. You only get to be a slut with me. Now, I’ll let you put on a fashion show for me. Or let you grind on a pillow again. What do you say?
Walking over to your curtains, you close them. They could stand out there all night, but they weren’t going to watch you.
Good girl
You need a moment. There is anger and frustration drifting into every part of you. Grabbing up a wad of those stupid panties, you sling them to the floor. Over and over again, until your bed is finally clean, and another ping.
I thought you’d like my gift. That hurts you want to just throw them on the floor.
“Stop watching me!” You twist around your room violently trying to locate the cameras and mics.
Quit looking, Dovey. You won’t find them. And if you, I’ll just have them replaced. And I won’t stop. Now get your ass into bed. You’re gonna need the sleep. Now that I’ve tasted you, you’ll never get rid of me. Goodnight, Dovey.
Say it back or I come up there to you.
Goodnight, sir.
Steve smiles, nodding his head at Bucky. “She won’t be masturbating tonight. But, I’ll watch from my phone since she finally closed her curtains. Don’t lose sight of her. I’ve only just begun.”
“You’re so mean,” you whimper, covering your entire body with your blanket. You know you’ll never escape him. And if you do, he’ll just drag you right back to him. But that doesn’t mean you won’t try. And you will. You’ll continue to try, and just maybe this little bird will get out of the cage she put herself in.
Next
Masterlist
Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @theinheriteddutchess @annaallicce @feyfantome @jesevans @tittittoee @bananapiedreams @onclouds999 @darkserenity24 @abbatoirablaze @ashychangeling 
1K notes · View notes
mojiitoos · 7 months
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Bucky : “I feel like we're starting to lose the ''b'' in our «bromance», bro.”
*Sam, pausing from kissing Bucky's neck* : “Hmph?”
505 notes · View notes
urdepressedslut · 8 months
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You’re Mine, Sunshine ❝part twelve❞
♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: Reality is hitting you as you, Bucky, Steve and his men all venture off to a secret safe house only Steve knows about. The events from the last couple of days are starting to hit you with a sickening force, leaving you weak and crippled.
♡ Warnings: language, angst, fluff, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, sickness, paranoia, death threats, murderous thoughts, stalking, sam and bucky being absolutely my favs
series masterlist
Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Bodyguard!Au Mob!Au
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It was almost taunting the way your fingertips thumped, the last skim of your fingers across the book spines in your library. You tried to think of this being bittersweet, but could only find the bitterness of the situation. You were being ripped from your home, because of your Father. You were being forced to flee your house because of his sick and twisted mind, somewhere in his head he thought he was doing right by going after you. You couldn't even stomach the thought for too long, the mere mention of your Father's hatred towards enough to send you into a spiral.
The outside world passed by through your unfocused gaze. The buildings lessening and the trees getting denser. You weren't for sure where you were headed, but as long as Bucky was the one guiding you there— you didn't care.
"Hey." Bucky's voice brought you back to reality.
The dark and suffocating thoughts floating away as his smooth voice broke through the haze. You took more time than usual, taking in his expression briefly before responding.
"Hi James." You whispered, scooting closer to his side, tightening your hold on his hand.
His face dropped, his eyes softening at your vulnerable state. He wrapped his arm around your frame, tucking you closer to his side. The warmth from his body heated your own, your heartbeat slowing almost immediately from the feeling.
"You doing alright?" He asked, his eyes not breaking from your face, trying to catch every twitch and shift in your expression.
You forced a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes and nodded regardless of your inner struggles.
"I'm hanging in there. How much longer?" You reassured him, sneaking a peak out the window, only to find the thick forest.
"Not too much longer. We're headed to a safe house— one that only Steve knows about." He told you.
You furrowed your brows in curiosity.
"You've never been there?" You asked him, and he shook his head.
"No, but the less people that know— the better. Your Father won't be able to find you there." He told you.
You nodded and turned back towards the window, rubbing your thumb over the metal ridges on his hand.
"You'll stay with me right?" You whispered, your doubts getting the best of you.
He gently grabbed your chin, turning you towards him. His eyes shined with intense passion, a strong sense of genuineness within them.
"The whole time. I'm not going anywhere, okay?" He promised and your anxieties vanished.
Your chest warmed comfortably, the safety he provided from his presence alone enough to calm you. You appreciated it greatly.
"Okay."
His eyes softened at your small voice, the urge to wrap you up in his arms overwhelming.
“C’mere.” He voiced, pulling you even closer.
You hugged around his body, burying your face into his chest. His body blocked you from the outside world, muting the chaos for a moment. It was peaceful and you felt powerful against him— like no one could hurt you.
The rumble of the car and Bucky’s heartbeat lulled you to sleep. There wasn’t a place you felt more comfortable in, than his arms. You couldn’t help but doze off with his arms caging you protectively.
~
“We’re here doll.” Bucky whispered, earning a sleepy groan from you.
You snuggled your face deeper into his body and had him chuckling, gently pulling you away from him, his metal hand smoothing down your now messy hair.
“You can sleep when we get inside, okay?” He told you, earning another incoherent groan.
You perked up, forgetting the situation completely in your dreamless sleep. You forgot for just a moment that your Father was practically hunting you. The whole mess crashes into you yet again, you weren’t tired anymore with the sudden sick feeling in your stomach. In fact, you tensed up— a wave of nausea approaching.
Without responding, you followed Bucky out of the car— hanging onto his arm. You weren’t sure if it was from nerves or the sudden dizzy spell that came over you.
You hoped it wasn’t a panic attack that your body was brewing.
Although you were new to these attacks, having gone most of your life without them— you couldn’t help but be terrified of them. The lack of control you had when one was happening, you were afraid of what would happen if you had a really severe one.
Your grip tightened on his arm and he glanced down at you, taking note of your unfocused wide eyes, face paling with a tinge of green.
He was immediately on edge, hurrying his steps up the cabin estate. It was a secluded wooden house in the middle of nowhere— it looked intimidating from the outside. The fear of being stranded present, but it was a safe house. He had to remind himself.
She was safe here. He told himself.
Steve entered the house first, you and Bucky following after— Steve’s men scoped the area, staying on alert for any danger.
“You guys will be safe here. The kitchen is stocked with food, as well as more food down in the basement.” He informed you two, although the way you were staring blankly ahead— Steve knew he was basically talking to Bucky.
Bucky furrowed his brows at the news that the kitchen was stocked— the basement too?
Steve seemed to read his mind.
“Have known about this place for awhile, just never knew I’d actually be using it. Asked my men to stock the place before we headed out here.” Steve said.
Bucky felt a wave of great appreciation flow through him, Steve was really doing the most and he was lucky to have him as a friend.
“Thanks man, we appreciate it.” He spoke for the both of you— to which you didn’t mind considering your lack of words.
“Just try and lay low— Pierce and Rumlow are going to be finding out that his daughter and her bodyguard are missing very soon— as well as the whole perimeter squad.” Steve told him, making fear bloom in his chest.
Bucky swallowed, knowing this was just the beginning.
“Where are you all going to be staying? You don’t seem to be eager in moving in.” Bucky wondered, noticing the lack of moving in that was happening.
Steve waved him off like it was no big deal.
“Truthfully, we all aren’t built for sleep.” He tried to joke. “We have a small shed just behind the house, that’s where we will be keeping our stuff. Where we will take cover if we need to— but otherwise we got a house to guard.”
Bucky nodded in appreciation again and a part of him wondered if Steve was trying to redeem himself after judging you all too quickly. Despite it being a shitty thing, he didn’t think Steve realized just how forgetting you were. You’d see Steve as a good man any day, even with his rough start.
“And you…” Steve said lastly, glancing down to you before back up to him, “You got a girl to protect.”
Steve reminded him that not only was he here with you willingly, he was also doing his job to protect you. Things were different now though, he was protecting you from the bottom of his heart— not for the man that hired him.
Bucky wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. He ended up having to protect you from the person that hired him to you.
Steve left without another word and it left Bucky alone with you. He found you rather quiet, clinging onto him with white knuckles as you continued to space out.
“Hey… (Y/n)…” Bucky got your attention, your eyes focusing on his.
He noticed you still had this sickly green to your usual healthy glow, his brows furrowed in concern.
“Doll, you okay? You look like you’re about ready to fall over.” He pointed out, making sure he worded it correctly.
You nodded slowly and wiped a hand across your clammy forehead, agreeing with him that you weren’t feeling too hot. You weren’t sure if this was anxiety or if you were coming down with something— either way you felt like shit.
“Yeah, I’m not feeling too good. Think I just need to lie down.” You mumbled, leaning into him as you felt yourself sway on the balls of your feet.
Bucky felt your weight press into him. He felt his heart twinge at the way your voice sounded so weak and unsure. He knew you had been through way more than anyone could handle in the last couple of days— but he couldn’t help but be angry for you. You deserved better and he would think that until the day came where you got the perfect life he knew you deserved.
“Okay, let’s get you to bed.” He told you softly.
You nodded weakly and closed your eyes as another dizzy spell passed through you, making you out all your weight on him. He didn’t hesitate scoop you up into his arms, in the moment worsening the dizzy spell— but after you settled into his arms, the feeling washed away slightly and you melted into his embrace.
“I got you, just close your eyes.” He whispered and you didn’t waste a second and followed his commands.
You were almost lulled to sleep by his strong heartbeat thumping against your cheek, the way his warmth eased the chills you felt.
He had made it to the bedroom, placing you down onto the queen sized bed gently, making sure to pull the blankets back before placing you in.
You didn’t even open your eyes and sent him a weak smile, grabbing onto his wrist before he could move away. Bucky smiled at your tiny hand gripping onto him.
“I’m going to get you some medicine doll, get you a glass of water. Okay?” He told you, his voice ever so soft when speaking to you.
You nodded and let go of his hand, letting it sit on your chest. Your head pulled to the side and your smile started to fade as your exhausted, stressed brain turned off.
Bucky let himself gaze down at you for another moment, getting lost in you. His mind swirled around you constantly and if he wasn’t thinking about you— he wasn’t thinking at all.
He left quietly after he noticed you were out. You needed the rest— considering you’d be up tossing and turning later. His heart hurt for you, all you had to go through recently.
Exiting the room, and shut the door and glanced the the left— noticing Sam standing there.
“Brought some goodies.” He announced and it was then Bucky glanced down at his arms.
He was holding a little bowl of soup and had a glass of water and pills in his other hand. Bucky wipes the annoyed expression off his face and for the first time— appreciated Sam being here. Although he wouldn’t admit that.
“Thanks.” He said quietly, taking the goodies out of his hands.
Sam kept a smirk on his face, but it wasn’t his usual teasing one. It was soft and kind.
“You guys are adorable.” Sam said.
Bucky looked at him with an angry squinted expression, so many words on the tip of his tongue but he held himself back.
Sam wanted to laugh at Bucky’s wild expression but waved him off and held back his giggles.
“I overheard you talking to her. No judgement here— I think it’s sweet you actually are nice to someone.” Sam jabbed, and Bucky rolled his eyes.
Of course Sam had to give a compliment while still messing with him— all in one go.
“Okay well, try not to be a creep next time.” Bucky muttered lowly.
“Hey! I was dropping some much needed supplies off— so you’re welcome.” Sam added. turning and walking away, down the stairs to the living space.
Bucky sent one last glare his way until he was out of view. Somewhere deep down in his grumpy soul— he appreciated Sam.
Ew... he hated even thinking the thought.
Shaking his head clear, he headed back inside to you. He was surprised to find you sitting up and leaning back against eh headboard— last he saw you, you were out cold. While he was happy to see your eyes, he hated the way they were so dull. Your whole being looking mentally exhausted— and he wished he could take it all away.
"Hey, you can sleep if you want. I'll stay here with you." He reminded you, thinking that maybe you woke up and panicked that he wasn't there.
You nodded and scooted over, patting the spot next to you.
"Lay with me?" You asked, your voice hoarse and tired.
He softened his gaze, and placed the supplies down and quickly got in bed with you. Slipping off his shoes and jacket before cuddling up next to you.
"Thank you James. I don't know what I'd do without you." You whispered, laying against his chest while he looped his arms around you— holding you close.
"You don't even have to think about that possibility, because I'm never gonna leave you (Y/n)." He whispered back, smoothing your hair down and rubbing your back soothingly.
"I know you won't... but my Fath— Pierce may split us apart." You voiced your fear.
It happened to be Bucky's too, with th way his arms tightened around you protectively. He just couldn't bear that thought for too long or he'd start to panic. He knew it was smart to digest the thought because it was very much possible— which was terrifying.
"He can try." Was the only thing Bucky could come up with.
But it seemed to bring massive comfort to you, as you hugged him tighter, burying your face into his chest and lulling off to sleep without another word. He breathed in your scent, relishing the way your body was fitting perfectly against his. In different circumstances, he'd be at ease— but the anxiety always ate away at him with the threat over your head.
He only assumed the fury that would ignite the second Pierce noticed you were gone. It made him shiver.
~
Pierce stood in your bedroom, holding up a dainty frame— a picture and you and your Mother inside. His lip snarled and twitched at the sight, the way his heart started to pound— his vision turning red.
Pierce yelled out, throwing the picture frame across the room— the delicate piece shattering against the grooved wall. The pieces scattered amongst the room, the high pitched trickle of wood and glass fading away. The only sound left in the room was his heavy breathing.
The door clicked open and shut, and without turning around— Pierce could tell who it was just by the footsteps.
“Seems we have a runaway on our hands.” Rumlow acknowledged.
Pierce scoffed, struggling his posture and fixing his suit and tie, adjusting his cuffs back to normal after his outburst.
“Ungrateful little bitch thinks she can hide from me— run from me.” He muttered under his breath.
“Seems we’ve got some traitors too. Didn’t know Rogers had it in him to go against you like that.” He pointed out, only making Pierce shake his head in betrayal and anger.
“Should’ve known Rogers would stick by Barnes— two were close before working for me. I knew that and still took a chance.” He voiced his frustration.
Rumlow nodded his head, remembering Bucky all too well— so many memories he loved to look back on. Although he couldn’t say the same about Bucky.
“Overall— I wouldn’t worry sir,” Rumlow started, holding onto Pierce’s shoulder with confidence, “I’m always down for a hunt.”
Pierce and Rumlow smirked at each other before breaking into an evil laugh, both of their sick and twisted minds coming together to bring you hell.
Pierce wondered how long you could stay hidden, and he couldn’t wait for the day he found you. Ending things once and for all.
His dear beloved daughter.
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ramp-it-up · 1 year
Text
All I Want
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Paring: Mob Boss! Steve Rogers x Reader
Word count: 3.4 K
Summary: Steve has left you alone for a week with no explanation. Will you let him back into your life?
Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, SMUT, Lil bit of ANGST. A lot of FLUFF Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. A slap on the face, organized crime, implied violent retaliation, Bucky’s arm injury implied, Steve simping for reader, reader watching porn, sloppy toppy, gagging, swallowing, coached masturbation, oral (m/f receiving) fingering, nipple play, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) breeding kink, size kink, violence (due to mob world).
A/N: This is a bonus for  #DJ’sAllIWant4KChristmas and based on this ask and any other requests for a part 2 to Try a Little Tenderness. Here it is babes, I hope you like it as much as the first part. Happy New Year! 🍾
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I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
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Sam came, and he watched as you paced in your closed store the first day after the dust up at DUMBO. He told you minimal information, just that Bucky was alive and that he was going to stay there per Steve’s ‘request’ until he asked him to leave.
“I’m opening my store today.”
“No. You are not.”
Sam was usually nice, with that beautiful smile on display whenever he picked up Steve’s gifts. But now, he was steadfast.
You were hot. Not only at Steve for not telling you the whole story, but at everyone.
You couldn’t just sit around all day. You walked up to Sam and stood toe to toe.
“Take off that expensive jacket.”
You had an apron with the store logo in your hand.
Hours later, Sam took a break from helping you do store inventory to take a call. You kept working as he stepped into the back room. Then, you walked back to listen.
You peeked around your corner to see Sam letting out a sigh of relief.
“Good. At least that’s progress? He squeezed your hand?”
He paused.
“I know he has a long way to go, but you know Buck’s a fighter.”
“…Yes. Steve. I’m trying, but you know she’s stubborn…She’s okay. She’s a pistol, and she’s working me to death. She’s pissed at you though. At all of us. Yeah… I don’t think I can protect you from that. I’ll tell her it will be a while…”
You went back to your spreadsheet feeling some kind of way. Steve had time to call Sam, but not you. Okay.
Sam stepped out of the back room.
“Bucky’s alive. He was very badly injured, his left arm is…”
Sam paused, looking at you warily.
You looked back at him relieved, yet anxious at the same time.
“Let’s just say that he has a long road.”
You nodded and swallowed.
“What about Steve?”
You hated yourself for asking Sam. You should have been talking to Steve. But you couldn’t help it.
“He’s fine. Just has some… work to do right now.”
Your stomach dropped and you lifted your chin.
“What Steve does with his time has nothing to do with me, Sam. I don’t own him and he certainly does not own me.”
You were ready to fight.
“It’s not like we’re in a relationship. Steve’s fine, Bucky’s alive. So you can go now.”
You looked him in the eye so that he could get the message.
Sam shook his head.
“That’s not gonna happen Y/N.”
You glared at him.
“Tell your Boss that I’m sending you back.”
Sam advanced upon you, but you knew he wouldn’t hurt you.
“Learn this, Y/N. Steve’s not my Boss. He’s my friend, and just like Bucky, he’s my partner. I'm doing him a favor making sure you’re alright. That’s what friends do. You can’t send me back.”
You two stared at each other. This must be what it was like to have a brother.
“You know you’re very annoying.”
“Same, lady.”
You fought the urge to laugh and wanted to stick your tongue out at him.
“Get back to work. We have the entire stockroom to count.”
Sam shook his head and obliged.
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Six days later, on Christmas Eve, the bell rang, signaling someone opening the door. You turned with a smile to greet the customer to see Steve standing there.
It was liked the wind was knocked out of you.
Steve stood there, staring at you, looking very tired, but with those same sparkling blue eyes. And he had the nerve to smile at you.
“Can I have the usual?”
He was a sight for sore eyes. You’d spent the week worried and frustrated, in addition to mad as hell. But he looked so damn good.
You walked over to Steve, and gazed up at him as he beamed down on you. You did the only thing you could think to do.
You slapped him.
“How dare you!”
Sam, who was in his apron behind the register, audibly gasped, because it didn’t end well with the last woman who slapped Steve. She’d ended up climbing out of a dumpster where Steve had unceremoniously placed her.
You looked over at Sam.
“Here is your friend, Sam. Talk to him. Because I certainly won’t.”
Steve’s heart was beating a mile a minute as he rubbed his face. That fire pent up inside you signaled a need for release. He watched you hungrily as you left, then turned back to Sam.
You stormed upstairs toward your apartment, hearing the beginnings of thier conversation.
“I thought we agreed to keep the store closed, Sam.”
“Well, the store’s owner might have a little to say to that. Have you ever tried to get her to do something she didn’t want to do?…”
You went upstairs, straight to the kitchen, reaching for your liquor cabinet. It was only noon, but you needed a drink.
You heard the door open behind you and did not turn around. You heard his steps into the kitchen, but you were immovable.
“Pour me one?”
You reached for a glass and slammed it down on the counter next to you, then poured some Uncle Nearest into it. You still didn’t look at him, but you shivered as he stepped behind you, nearly touching you to reach around for the glass, but only sharing his body heat.
“I deserve your anger, Ambrosia, But at the beginning, I genuinely thought that you knew who I was. I mean….”
You spun around, eyes full of fire, facing down Steve’s desire for you. And there was something else in his eyes. But you launched in nevertheless.
“At no time over dinner, or while you were sweet talking me into bed, did you mention that you were the head of an international crime organization. And then you put my business in danger. And apparently my life???”
Steve sighed and scrubbed his face.
“I know you’re angry, Baby, but you gotta listen to me.”
You closed your mouth and crossed your arms.
Steve’s face softened. At least you weren’t running away.
“I said at the beginning I thought you knew who I was. But then I realized that you didn’t know me as Steve Rogers the big bad dude, I was just that one customer who was sweet on you and sent gifts. And that made me fall for you even more.”
When he said ‘fall for you,’ your eyes went to his.
“Yeah, I said it.”
“Steve…”
You were trying to remain upset, but he was so sincere. Your resolve was weakening.
“Fall for me? You haven’t spoken to me in a week, Steve. You called Sam every day but…”
“I had work to do. Bucky was injured and he was touch and go. And I had to take care of… I had to take care of some things.”
He looked at you and slowed down.
“You had work to do? So did I. But you told me to close my store. You couldn’t have taken a few minutes to call, to text? I figured I didn’t mean as much to you as I thought.” 
You looked down at your dirty chucks, and at Steve’s Ferragamos.
Steve moved closer and tilted your head up by your chin. The electricity from his fingers was almost too much.
“No, Ambrosia.”
Steve’s eyes were wild now, and desperate. He wanted you to understand so badly, but he knew it would seem outlandish.
“You mean so much more. I fell for you because there were no expectations. I kept buying you gifts and you kept sending them back. And I thought you didn’t want me. But then when I asked you on a date and you accepted, I realized that…”
“…That all I want is you.”
You looked up at him and bit your lip. Steve could hardly contain himself.
“I can listen to you, Steve. And I would have listened if you called.”
Steve leaned down and kissed your lips softly. He groaned when you yielded to him, opening your mouth and peeking out your little tongue. He wanted to ravage you, but first, you had to understand.
“You’ve got to know. You’ve got to know that you change me Ambrosia. With you I am a different man. I couldn’t call you because you make me weak.”
Steve kissed your frown and started talking again.
“With you, weak is a good thing. I am gentle, I am kind. I am patient.”
Steve looked into your eyes. 
“I am in love.”
You gasped. 
“Steve…”
“You gotta listen. When I left, all I could think about, besides Bucky, was you. Your smile, your wit, your laugh, your body. How it felt to make love to you. To be inside you. To make you cum. Do you remember, do you remember how it felt?”
You smiled and nodded, playing with the St. Christopher’s medal around his neck.
“Look at me. Do you remember? Use your words.”
You clenched at his command. And you obeyed.
“Yes, Steve. I remember. I was sore for three days.”
Your admission and the new huskiness in your voice made him pull you closer and you could feel the pulsing in his pants. You also felt his heart beating in his chest.
“Fuck, Ambrosia. You make me wanna ruin you again.”
The way you looked at him indicated that you wanted the same. Steve felt his knees almost give out. He chuckled.
“See? You make me weak in the knees. Thoughts of you make me soft. And for what I had to do, I couldn’t be. D’you understand?”
You tried to think rationally. You knew what he was saying without saying it. He had to do horrible things. You watched the news this past week. You knew what Steve was responsible for. But you didn’t care. Bucky was always nothing but kind to you. And he was Steve’s best friend.
You thought about what you would have done in this situation. You looked back up at Steve.
“I understand.”
You bit your lip again.
“And I am still standing here with you because it is too late for me to tell you to leave. I endured Sam sleeping on my couch for a week and protecting me because I love you too, Steve. I think I have been in love with you for months now. And then, last week...”
Your hands moved to slip his jacket off his shoulders, kneading them and feeling the tension there. Steve’s eyes sought yours again.
“You love me too?”
“Yes, are you tired?”
“Exhausted, but… You want me to stay?”
“Yes…”
Your hand was on the outside of Steve’s pants, grasping his hardness and making him groan, knowing that he was leaking in his underwear. His hands moved up your sides and lifted you up to sit on the counter.
He dove into your neck, inhaling your scent and giving you gentle kisses that made you arch your back and your breasts into his chests. Then, he started sucking hickeys into you as his hands came up to knead and grasp you, and to tease your nipples with his thumbs.
“All week I’ve gone to bed and woken up rock hard to visions of you. Didn’t wanna jack off. I need you Ambrosia. Need to see you cum again. Need to bury myself deep inside you. Need for you to hug me in all the ways. Need to see your beautiful body. Need to sleep with you in my arms. I’m tired. Tired of being without you.”
You nuzzled his ear, knowing that the only important thing right now was his need. And yours.
“Sounds like you need me to suck your dick.” 
You felt bold because he wasn’t looking at you.
The man literally growled in your ear and then picked you up, still wrapped around him like a vine, and carried you to your bedroom. He sat you down on your bed and looked down on you as you looked up at him.
“What did you say?”
Steve made sure to hold your head up so you could look him in the eye. Your eyes watered as you licked your lips and took a deep breath.
“I said, I want to suck your dick.”
“That’s… what I thought you said.”
Steve continued to hold your head by your chin, and stuck his thumb in your mouth as he undid his pants. You squirmed as you got wet at the sound of his belt clanging on the floor and sucked his thumb like it was going out of style.
Steve could hardly catch his breath for anticipation and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He looked down at you as he pumped his massively hard cock in your face.
“I want to be very, very rough with you, but I’m not going to hurt you, Baby. You want this?”
Steve moved himself to within an inch of your lips.
“Please…” 
You made to move closer, but he held you fast. You almost felt his dick jump when you saw it. You squirmed again.
“Can you take it?”
You managed to extend your tongue and collect the drops of precum on his tip, making Steve shiver as his blazing eyes looked down on you.
“Fuck my face…”
“Holy!”
Steve grabbed both sides of your head as you opened wide and accepted him into your mouth.
“That hot little mouth, holy shit, Ambrosia. How do you…”
You concentrated and allowed him to push past your tonsils to your throat, then suckled him as he pulled out, tracing your tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock. You ran your hands up his sides, tracing his v cut and abs upward under his shirt. Steve scrambled to take it off, and then pulled you off of him to take your shirt off.
“Where did you learn that?”
Steve raised his eyebrow as you grabbed for him again. He tried to be gentle, but you wouldn’t allow it, as you bottomed out again.
This time when you pulled off, gasping you said one word, “Porn,” and then started slurping sloppily again.
Steve stood there, head thrown back as you took his hips and went to town.
“Thank goodness for technology.”
You hummed your agreement, and then went for the gold.
“Ho-ho-holyyyyy. I’m gonna, fuckkkk Ambrosia, I’m gonna…”
You started gagging louder and finally, Steve took your head in order to use your mouth for his pleasure.
“It’s gonna be a lot… “
Steve was looking down on you with lust and you basked in it.
“You gonna swallow?”
You nodded eagerly, as Steve bared his teeth with an effort to hold back. You played with his balls, and he couldn’t anymore.
“Swallow like a good… fucking… girl…”
With those three thrusts, Steve sent a torrent of spend past your lips. You gulped it down and Steve thought he’d died and gone to heaven. He fell to his knees and you hugged him, assenting to his kiss so that he could taste himself on you.
“Thank you for that. Now I can think straight.”
He moved to push you back on the bed. 
“So, my sweet Ambrosia has been watching porn, huh?”
“I missed you Steve. Missed your cock.”
Steve shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Baby. I’m so sorry.”
Steve was now taking off your shoes, pants, and panites. He kissed your thighs and spread your legs with his hands. He was looking deep into your intimate parts. 
“My little sweet flower. Still so beautiful. But now she’s so sloppy.”
Those blue eyes looked at you, and your cheeks warmed.
“What happened?”
That deep voice.
“You know, Steve…”
“You like sucking my cock, yeah?”
“Yes, I do. Been dreaming of it.”
Steve grunted. His cock coming back to life at your words.
“You been touching yourself?”
“I have, but nothing compares to you. Didn’t know if I would see you again. Was thinking of getting a toy.”
Steve looked angry for a second.
“Never doubt, as long as I have breath in my body. You will see me again.” 
His eyes flicked down your body, reminding you of possession.
“Show me how you touched yourself. I wanna watch. Will you let me watch you cum?”
You squirmed at the request.
“Ssteeevvveeee!”
“Don’t be shy. Look. I’ll join you.” 
Steve leaned up on his elbow and started stroking his dick, making you wetter than you already were.
You bit your lip and slid your hands from your tits down your sides, one moving back up to play with your nipple, and the other finding your clit. You licked your lips as your fingers played in your slippery slit and lubricated your button. The sound was pornographic as your movements indicated how wet you were.
You watched as Steve opened his mouth and moved his hand faster.
“Put your fingers inside, baby. Pretend they’re mine.”
You shivered as you obeyed and your thumb tuned your body to a marvelous frequency with Steve watching. It was so erotic. You started to cum when Steve started moaning. 
“How pretty. Y’look so pretty getting off. Pretty little fingers in that gorgeous hole. My sweet Ambrosia…”
He was descending toward your center, breath hot on your cunt.  He inhaled deeply, taking in the essence of you.
“Let me be your toy…”
And his lips wrapped around your vibrating clitoris, sliding it between his lips quickly at first, causing you to jump, then, when his strong hands held your thighs open, he suckled it completely into his mouth and used his tongue to try and suck the life out of you.
You screamed and Steve slipped a finger inside your tight hole, thrusting gently at first, and then  adding another finger and becoming more insistent in the quest for your orgasm.
You came very quickly, knees around his head before he pried them off and then held you open. Steve blew on your cunt to extend the sensations, and thrummed your clit while you begged him to stop. The quivers were extended as he came up and sucked your nipples, and pulling his hair only spurred him on longer.
When you finally, finally came down, your hoarse voice complained to, 
“All my stars and heavens, Steve!”
“How can you be so fucking cute and so damn sexy at the same time. My dream girl.”
Steve kissed your forehead as you grabbed his cock and started pumping.
“Gimme.”
Steve tried to frown at you.
“So demanding.”
“Steve please.”
“You want this dick?”
Your breathy “Yes!” almost made him almost cum in your hand. 
“You. Are going to be the death of me.”
Steve held your thighs in your hands and pushed them up beside you.
His stiff cock seemed to know the way home as he positioned himself at your entrance. He slid the thick head inside you as you keened as you knew his shaft was almost as thick.
“You okay, Baby?”
“Hnnngh.. Oh Steve…give me more…”
Steve almost exploded at your face and the way you were squeezing him.
“Okay.. I don’t really wanna… hurt…”
“Hurt me pleaseeeee.”
“Shiiiitttttttt.”
Steve slid into your very wet canal and stayed there as you wrapped all of your limbs around him as you got used to his girth again.
“I-I-I can’t… I’m gonna cum… inside… I can’t… you’re gripping me so… so so tight…”
“Mmmmmmghhh! Give me!”
And Steve started moving, slowly at first, and as you urged him on, faster and deeper.
“I had plans for how I was gonna… fuck…”
“Oh my god… Steve, I’m…”
“I wanted to go nice and slow… ohhhhhh…”
When he felt you quiver around him was when he started cumming.
“Fuck! It’s too soon… oh my god you feel so good…”
Steve buried his face into your neck, huffing and puffing as his cum spurted out of him and into your warm goodness. You felt every splash of his hot ejection inside you and briefly considered the consequences.
So did Steve.
“Oh shit, I came inside you.”
Steve looked pretty pleased with himself. You had to laugh.
“I can’t with you, Steve.”
“I believe you just did.”
You both chuckled as he kissed you and collapsed on the bed.
Steve pulled you close.
“Sam is probably down there dealing with customers…still got bills to pay. The lights, the mortgage…”
You were dumping the last thoughts out of your head as you were falling asleep.
“Not the mortgage anymore. Valkyrie bought it from Wells Fargo…”
Steve sighed and kissed you on the forehead, exhaustion finally catching up with him.
“Oh, ” You replied as you snuggled closer to him. 
And both of you fell into the warm embrace of deep sleep for an afternoon nap.
READ Part three I WONDER
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assembletheimagines · 2 years
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Video
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Warnings: Bucky is a little shit. 18+, dirty talking, masturbation, just smut be advised
Summary: Bucky sends you a video while away on a mission
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You don’t think much on it when you hear your phone vibrate on your bed-side table. Reaching for it to see a notification with Bucky’s name attached to it.
You press, playing the video he had sent you; your eyes widening as Bucky’s camera moves down. Your pupils dilate, mouth dropping as his large hand comes into view, pumping his thick cock. The tip of his dick already red and glistening with his pre cum as his thumb strokes over his slit. You hear his breathy moan in the back ground.
A noise of alarm leaves you as your eyes stay glued to the video. You can’t stop watching. Bucky’s moans are quiet against the speaker and the sounds he makes are enough to get your thighs rubbing to get any type of friction as your clit throbs in need. “Miss you so bad,” Bucky’s voice reach your ears and you feel embarrassed by the pathetic whine that escapes past your lips, “wish you were here.”
Bucky was supposed to be on a mission across the world, and had been gone with Sam for over a week.
His groans bring you back from your thoughts as his fist drags over his cock slowly, his breathy gasps and panting not helping the need that begins to grow inside of you. Your pussy clenches around nothing as Bucky murmurs your name likes it’s you who's stroking his cock.
His hand moves faster, you can see his fingers tightening around his length as his moans grow a bit louder. “Wish I could have you on your knees for me, baby.” He grunts and you feel a new pool of slick form between your thighs at the thought. “Fuck your mouth, it always look so pretty choking on my cock.” He curses and you gasp like he could hear you.
You can see Bucky’s hips buck into his enclosed fist as he pants. “But you know what I want more than anything?” Bucky squeezes and twists. “Wanna fuck you, baby.” He answers his own question for you. “Wanna make you cum on my dick, feel you squeeze me so tightly as you cream on me,” you're at a loss for words, feeling absolutely drenched in your panties now. “Mm, wanna fuck you dumb on my cock until you’re begging me to fill you up.”
And then a flow of curses mixed with your name come choking out of his lips as he cums.  
You watch with wide eyes as his cock twitches with each ribbon of cum that shoot from his tip. His hand not stopping his strokes, painting his abdomen and hand in white. “See what you did? Made me make a mess because I miss your pretty pussy,” he practically growls, thighs shaking slightly from the force of his orgasm.
That’s how the video ends. And before you could replay the video while you sink a finger down your panties and into your dripping pussy, his name flashes over your screen.
His name comes out as a whine when you answer him. You can still hear his pants; he was still trying to regulate his breathing from his orgasm. But as you added a second finger, curling to try and reach the gummy spot inside you, you could practically hear his smirk as he spoke, “talk to me, baby, are your fingers not as good as mine.”
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buckyalpine · 1 year
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A little longer
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HI MY BEAUTIFUL 🐚ANON!! I adore this so much, I adore YOU so much, as always, your requests are everything!! 
Warnings: So so much fluffy fluff, angst if you really squint till your eyes go cross-eyed and blurry
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"It's been decades. Not even a couple years. Almost a century. You probably shoot dust. Or whatever your bionic ass reproduces with"
Bucky contemplated throwing his half finished milkshake at Sam's head while they both scarfed down burgers from a late night diner after a taxing mission. Sam was pestering Bucky yet again about his nonexistent social and lack of a love life, a topic he seemed to get high off of. 
“For fucks sake Sam-”
"You need to get out more man, at least start dating. You don't need a whole girlfriend but a few dates wouldn't kill you. Or maybe it would, since you're what, 106?"
Bucky groaned, rubbing a hand over his face, his patience wearing thin. Dating wasn’t for him, not because he didn’t want to date but because he wasn’t sure who would even date him. He’d only just gotten comfortable talking to Sam though he’d never openly admit he actually enjoyed their conversations. He wasn’t exactly the most approachable, Peter had once told him he had a resting bitch face, whatever that meant. He wasn’t the most tech savvy unless it involved doing something illegal. He had a plethora of devices that could take down the US government at the push of a button he secrecy hoarded under his bed but God forbid someone ask him to pose for their Instagram story.  
Talking to a pretty girl was a completely different story. What would he even talk about? His time before the war involved a lot of nursing an injured or sick Steve back to health. After the war and his time in Hydra, he didn’t really have time for himself. He liked plums. The hobbit. He was thinking about getting a cat. Bucky internally groaned, maybe he’d find a girlfriend at the retirement home down the street; at least they’d have things in common. 
Sam cocked an eyebrow while Bucky narrowed his eyes at him. Usually he’d respond with a grumpy pout or complete silence but today his exhaustion had caught up with him. He debated on how to get Sam of his back, a dim, flickering, half broken bulb going off in his sleep deprived brain. 
"I already have a girlfriend Tweety bird"
The deafening silence that followed that statement made it clear both men were aware that was a lie. Sam snorted, shaking his head while they both finished they food, slapping a $50 on the counter before leaving. He looked at the super soldier, deciding not to press into the issue further for the night but he definitely wasn’t going to let it go that easily. 
5:30 AM
The buzz of his phone jolted him awake, the faint sound of the TV still playing in the background. Bucky felt around for his phone, tossing his sheet off, sitting up from his place on the floor seeing Sam’s caller ID light up the screen. 
“What are you doing next Saturday” Sam sounded unusually chipper, a hint of a smirk in his voice, a suspicious amount of enthusiasm for such an early hour. 
“Why” Bucky groaned, rubbing sleep from his eyes, going back to lying down. 
“Were having a cookout over the weekend, you should come”
“You woke me up to tell me what could have been a text message?” Bucky asked incredulously, closing his eyes, ready to let sleep free him from such a ridiculous conversation. 
“Ooo, white panther knows how to text now” 
“White Wolf” Bucky grumbled, regretting every telling Sam the name he had been given in Wakanda. “I’ll come if you just let me go back to sleep” 
"Alright, but bring your girl too"
There it was. 
He could feel the shit eating grin Sam was giving him over the phone, eye brows wigging up and down, all his perfect teeth out. 
“Whatcha say Barnes?” 
Sleep had disappeared into thin air as Bucky shot up, mentally kicking himself for the nonsense he’d gotten himself into. He fiddled with the corner of his sheet, hoping to find an out. 
"I thought you only invited family" 
"Hey, anyone that you're allowing within 3 feet of your personal space might as well be considered family" Sam snorted, not believing a single word Bucky had said the night before. The conversation moved on to a different topic, easing some of Bucky’s nerves. A whole hour had passed and Bucky was sure he was in the clear until-  
“Back to the matter at hand, you bringing her or not?” 
“Why are you like this, does being Captain America always come with the caveat with also being a pain in my ass, I’m not going to-”
Bucky was about to refuse until a knock at the door pulled him away from the conversation, the scent of fresh pancakes wafting through the door. He pulled himself up, a smile tugging on his lips, knowing exactly who was on the other side, not needing to check as he untangled himself from the sheets. 
His sweet neighbor. 
Bucky wasn’t religious and he wasn’t a big believer in a higher power but there had to be something out there when people like you existed. Whenever Sam asked him why he stayed in the dingy little apartment that barely had windows and a closet for a bedroom, he’d insist it was because he preferred a small space and was still getting used to living a normal life so he wasn’t ready for another move just yet. 
The part he always left out was that his dingy apartment came with an absolute angle that lived next door. Kind hearted. Sweet. An absolute darling. You were one of the first people he’d interacted with when he moved in. All the nerves he had about living alone and growing accustomed to a regular life melted away the first day, when you came over with a plate of fresh cookies. 
He felt like a little boy whenever you were around, having the biggest crush on the prettiest girl on the playground, his mind going to mush whenever you smiled at him. But it wasn’t a crush. Nope. No....? No. He narrowed his eyes at himself before making his way to the door. 
“Buck? Did your tongue rust-” 
“I’ll uh-I’ll think about it” He mumbled before cutting the call, a bashful smile on his face as he unhooked the chain and swung the door open. “G’morning doll” 
“Good Morning” You grinned, handing Bucky the plate which he gratefully accepted, his stomach rumbling between the butterflies that fluttered in his tummy. “I heard you get in last night, didn’t think you’d have time to do a grocery run or cook anything” You handed him a bag of fruits and vegetables, two of those bags full of plums. His favorite. 
“You didn’t have to do all this” If his cheeks grew any warmer he would’ve sworn he was running a fever. And he didn’t get fevers. 
“You’re out saving the world, I think getting you a few groceries is the least I could do. So, how’s the new Captain?” You had never met Sam in person but hearing enough stories from Bucky told you all you needed to know. No one else was better suited to take on the shield than him. 
“A pain in my ass even if he means well” Bucky smiled shaking his head to himself. “He’s been pestering me to get out more...start dating” He mumbled the last part, wincing. He’d fought off aliens, gone to battle alongside a tree and a talking raccoon, survived being help captive by Hydra but being boyfriend material? His flirting game was as strong as pre serum Steve's right hook. 
“Well, handsome solider like you, shouldn’t be too hard to find you a date” You felt your own face heat up as soon as the words left your mouth but wasn’t like it was a secret. There was no way he would have had trouble in the dating department; aside from being one of the most beautiful people you’d laid your eyes on he was also the sweetest. Bucky was nothing but a gentleman and with a pure and soft heart and if you didn’t get your shit together and control the way he made you weak in the knees-
“Not the same ladies man I was in the 40′s doll” He chuckled, blue eyes sparkling at your compliment, “Either way, I got myself into a mess with that” He smiled sheepishly while you cocked your head, urging him to continue. 
“Well, I sort of lied to get him off my case” Bucky blushed, rubbing the back of his head, his the pink on his cheeks deepening at your cheeky smile. “I-I told him I already have a girlfriend but as you can see-” Bucky waved into his empty apartment that showed no signs of human life, “-it back fired immediately because he's invited my nonexistent girlfriend to a cookout this weekend. In Louisiana. With all his family. And friends”
Bucky let his head hit the wall with a dull thump, cursing himself for putting a foot in his mouth. Sure he could just come clean and say he lied. But that would mean admitting he lied and that was worse because then Sam would give him shit for that, plus try to get him out more and- 
“What if- what if I went with you?” Bucky’s head shot up, blinking in surprise at your words, wondering if he heard you correctly. “I could pretend to be your girlfriend for a day, get Cap off your case. Only if you’re comfortable with it though”
“Really? You’d do that?” You giggled at his lost puppy expression, his eyes lighting up when he realized you were being serious.
“Of course” You smiled sincerely,  “I’d be happy to! Just let me know what time to be ready at and I’ll be all yours” 
All his.  
The little boy in his was running around in circles, his heart beating too fast for the rest of his body to keep up. The thought of you being his girlfriend for a day was more than he could ever dream of. Of course it was only pretend and he’d wouldn’t dare push for more; not when you deserved the world. At the very least, he wouldn’t have to deal with Sam’s nagging. 
Problem solved. 
*****
This was a bad idea. 
A bad, bad idea. 
Bucky had gone through at least 4 outfits, debating between an array of Henley’s, before settling on a blue one when he remembered you complimented it because it was blue like his eyes. He picked up his razor and then immediately put it down when he remembered you once said you liked the scruff on him.  Even if this was just pretend, every single part of him was on edge as if this were a real date. As soon as his enhanced hearing picked up your soft footsteps padding down the hall, he was right by the door, nervously chewing his lip. 
Bucky blinked, his heart nearly giving way at 106 years old when he saw you make your way down the hall towards his apartment. You were in a flowery sundress, with a large cakebox in hand, your sweet perfume already making him dizzy. If Sam didn’t kill him for lying, the crush he had on you would be the next thing to take him out. 
"You-you look beautiful"  And sweet. And adorable. And delectable. 
An angel.
You looked like an angel. 
"Thank you, you look good too Sarge" You looked down at Bucky’s chest instead of meeting his eyes, unable to look at his pretty face. His adorable face. Handsome face. That dimple on his chin. Blue eyes. Pink lips. Fuck, you had such a big crush on him. 
It was going to be an interesting day. 
*****
Bucky parked the car at Sam’s place, which wasn’t too far from the lake where everyone had gathered. Part of him was almost sad they had made it on time; the car ride over with you ending faster than he’d liked.  
“He wasn’t kidding when he said he only invited family” Bucky snorted, seeing all of Sam’s relatives there along with his closest neighbors, many of whom he’d met before. He took the cakebox from you, slipping his hand into yours, smiling when you gave him a reassuring squeeze. You both made your way over, hand in hand, your heart skipping a beat each time someone greeted Bucky, every single person over joyed that he’d finally met someone to call his. 
He made his way over to the grill where Sam filliped a few burgers; the new Cap grinning when he saw you both. There was no missing the sparkle in his eyes when he looked down to your hand in Bucky’s, noting you were was holding his metal one, no longer covered by gloves. 
Interesting. 
“You’re lookin’ good” Sam wiggled his eyebrows at Bucky, loving the way the soldier rolled his eyes, trying to brush off the way his cheeks were dusted pink. 
“This is y/n, my girlfriend” Girlfriend. Bucky loved the way it rolled off his tongue with ease, not feeling an ounce of hesitance. The word previously feeling so foreign to him now felt so natural when he had you by his side. And holding your hand. And hearing your laugh. And-
Relax Bucky, it’s just for a day. 
“I’m Sam, and it’s very nice to meet you” He pulled you into a hug, still curiously eyeing Bucky, genuinely unable to figure out where he’d managed to find a sweetheart like you. 
“Thank you for the invite” you giggled as he gave you a light squeeze before letting you go, inspecting the cakebox Bucky handed to him. He grinned at the fresh strawberries that decorated the cake, shamelessly plucking one off and popping it into his mouth. “Strawberry shortcake. A little white wolf told me it was your favorite” 
“Well if the big bad wolf likes you then I like you cause he doesn’t like anybody. You must be special” Sam mused, a part of him wanting to be skeptical but there was nothing, absolutely nothing made up about the Bucky was looking at you. He gazed down at you as if you’d hung the moon and stars right in his room, an utterly lovesick puppy. You felt your cheeks heat up, burying your face into Bucky’s side while he chuckled, pulling you closer to him and pressing a kiss on top of your head. Damn right, she’s special. 
You both made your way over to mingle with the rest of the crowd, have no trouble at all playing the role of an utterly in love boyfriend and girlfriend. Bucky didn’t miss a single chance to press little kisses on your cheeks, every so often pecking your nose. His hand never left your waist, always holding you close to him, his face occasionally buried into the crook of your neck. 
You played your part almost better than he did, gushing over what a gentleman he always was to you, stayed tucked by his side, nuzzling under his chin, occasionally actually getting lost in his soft scent of laundry detergent, his cologne and something distinctly him. You made the elderly ladies giggle and blush each time Bucky did something adorable, proudly showing you off to everyone. 
He didn’t even let you eat without being the most perfect doting boyfriend. You’d both served your plates, finding a nice spot to sit under a shady tree; Bucky sat on the large lawn chair, secretly happy there was only one. You were about to walk off to get another when he tugged your wrist and pulling you back. 
“C’mere, I wont bite” Bucky grinned, surprised with himself as he pulled you onto his lap with ease. You let out a squeak, your nose bumping against his as you plopped onto him, lips nearly brushing his. 
“Smooth, Barnes. Remind me again, how you don’t have a girlfriend” You let out a breathless laugh, screaming to yourself on the inside that this was fake. He was playing the role perfectly, that was all. So fucking perfectly. 
Why was he so perfect. 
Bucky smirked, kissing your shoulder, letting you relax against his chest, wondering if you’d feel his heart hammering against his ribcage from how flustered he actually was. He easily maneuvered you so you sat comfortably across his thighs, his arm still securely around your waist. 
When was he ever this smooth. 
If anyone else was this close, he’s run for the hills, but now he was contemplating tossing you over his shoulder and running to Sam’s house, the guest bedroom was upstairs and two doors to the right-
“Well I’ll be damned, he really does have a girlfriend” Sam shook his head while Joaquin snorted, both men looking at you and Bucky with heart eyes while they sipping their beers from the docks. 
“You think they’re faking?” Joaquin nudged Sam’s shoulder, watching Bucky now fed you a piece of cake, still keeping you on his lap, sneakily kissing the cream from the corner off your lips between bites. You’d giggle every time, feeding him a strawberry, squealing when he’s playfully bite your fingers. 
“You can fake a lot of things but not the way he’d blushing and giggling like a toddler in a candy store” Bucky played with your fingers, intertwining them with his hand, his nose scrunching as he laughed at something you said. 
“It’s nice to see him like this” Joaquin had seen grumpy Bucky, grouchy Bucky, angry Bucky, scary Bucky, sleepy Bucky, just about every Bucky on the planet, but this? This was a first. Love struck Bucky. Charming Bucky. Happy Bucky. Simpy Bucky. Sappy Bucky. Giggly Bucky. Playful biting Bucky. Ready to get down on one knee if you’d let him, Bucky. 
“Steve always said he was a charmer, he wasn’t lying”
They couldn’t take their eyes off the way the corner of Bucky’s eyes crinkled each time he smiled or the way you’d instinctively lean into him when he spoke. He’d tuck your hair away from your face, his hands lingering on your cheek for a second longer, giving them a glimpse of the man from the 40′s before the war,  youthful and innocent, his heart full of hope, a smirk that would make his best girl swoon; the both of you in your own little world. 
“He looks happy”
Sam had seen people look happy before. They’d smile but their eyes would be empty. They’d laugh but their voices were hollow. They’d look like they were on top of the world while sitting at rock bottom. The way Bucky’s eyes sparkled, his boyish laugh, the way he’d nuzzle into you, trying to be closer to you than physically possible, was more than just looking happy. 
“He is happy”
Bucky had completely forgotten about pretending with you, lost in how perfectly you fit in his arms. You had taken up your role very seriously, telling him how utterly handsome he was, never missing moment to peck his scruffy cheek or card your fingers through his short soft locks. You intertwined you fingers with his vibrainium ones, busing your lips against his cool knuckles. 
At some point in the afternoon, he’d slipped his jacket off and wrapped you up with it as evening crept around the corner. Not a single person doubted the nature of your relationship; at least four of Sam’s uncles had told Bucky to propose soon. 
You don’t meet a girl who makes you this damn giggly just anywhere, Sergeant. Hold onto her. 
****
Just when he thought he couldn’t fall for you more, you had fallen asleep in his arms, contently snuggled up in his jacket as the sunset over the lake. Most of Sam’s family had gone back home, a few close relatives still hanging around the boat, sipping on coffee. Bucky couldn’t help but wrap his arms around you, softly kissing your forehead; he could get used to this. Cuddling up with you after date nights. Hearing your laugh. The softness of your lips. The way your hand always found itself in his metal one without hesitation. 
Fuck he wished this was real. 
You stirred slightly, a content sigh slipping past your lips at the feel of his kiss. Nothing felt more comfy than being wrapped up by the super soldier, his solid arms holding you close. You didn’t want to wake up, wishing you could sleep forever if it meant you’d be this close to Bucky all the time. The day felt like a dream; the exact dreams you had when you thought about your sweet neighbor. How it’d be for him to call you yours. To Be his girl. To make him smile. To make him laugh. 
If only it wasn’t just for a day. 
“You have a nice nap, baby?” Bucky smirked as you blinked awake, stretching on his lap like a cat before snuggling against him again. “My pretty girl” 
“Why wouldn’t I when my boyfriend is the comfiest spot to sleep on?” You teased, bringing your hand up to toy with the chain of his dog tags. Bucky chuckled, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes, kissing your nose. There was no one around you both, though neither of you seemed interesting in dropping the act just yet. 
“You fit perfectly here, doll” He grinned, blushing when he hesitantly pulled you a little closer, your arms moving to wrap around his shoulders, resting on the back of his neck. 
“I think I like it here” You sucked in a breath as he rested his forehead against yours, bringing his hand to cup your cheek. His nose gently bumped against yours, his warm breath tickling your lips. 
“Me too” He closed the gap between you both, pressing his lips to yours sweetly, savoring every bit of your softness. He couldn’t help but deepen the kiss as you parted your mouth letting his tongue lace with yours while your hand made its way through his hair, tugging on his short locks. Bucky let out a groan, letting his hands drop to your waist, kissing you for as long as he could until you both needed oxygen. 
“Maybe we can pretend for a little longer?” Bucky broke away, panting, his forehead still pressed against yours. You giggled between breaths, peppering kisses across his face. 
“Just a little longer?” 
“Maybe- maybe forever?” He looked at you with his classic puppy eyes, his heart bursting when you pulled him in for another kiss; forever. Forever sounded good. 
A few years later
“So, you finally gonna admit I made this happen?” Sam whispered while Bucky snorted, shaking his head. 
“Not gonna happen” 
“C’mon, I made this happen, I caused this” 
“You caused chaos” 
Sam scoffed in fake offence, taking a sleepy Becca from Bucky’s arms while the soldier went to go check on you. “Now when do I get to meet my second God child?”
“In a few hours” Bucky stretched before making his way back to your room, smiling at your resting form. He carefully laid down beside you, letting his hand splay across your tummy; in just a few more hours there would be a little Samuel Grant Barnes in the world. 
“We’re really good at pretending” You murmured, make Bucky chuckle, taking your hand in his and kissing the ring that sat on your finger. 
“Maybe just one more baby after this? Really convince them, Mrs. Barnes?”
*
“Uncle Sam, tell me a bedtime story?” Becca pouted, having been at the hospital for hours, giving Sam the exact same face Bucky gave you. Her little bottom lip jutting out, big (y/c/e) eyes blinking up at him. He grinned, settling her on his lap before he made a thinking face before asking what she’d want to hear. 
“What kinda story, Beccs, an animal story, a super cool falcon story or Captain America story or a flying Falcon Captain America story?” 
“The chaos daddy said you caused” She giggled while Sam nodded, taking a deep breath before starting. 
“It all started when your daddy said he had a girlfriend...”
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haleyhunwritess · 1 year
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I was wondering if you could write someting where bucky and reader have an argument and she gets drunk later because shes upset but then he takes care of her 💜
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𝐓𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤
pairing: bucky x reader
warning: angsty, swear words, lots of fluff at the end
a/n: okay i made this super long for literally no reason, but i got a similar request before (i can't find it anymore) and i got this idea for the request from a movie i watched last night (yes i wrote this at like 3am, which is probably why this is really bad), i hope you guys still like it though <3 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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"Come on, Buck, are you seriously not gonna tell me anything?" Steve asked once again, hoping Bucky would tell him more about your relationship. Most people already knew about the two of you, even though you hadn’t really made things official yet.
"There's nothing to tell. I already told you." Bucky groaned, hoping Steve would leave him alone.
"Oh please you guys are always together, and you've spent every night in her room for the past two weeks. You're seriously telling me there's nothing going on?" Steve smiled, thinking back to when he caught Bucky sneaking out of your room earlier this morning.
"It's nothing, okay? It's just a casual thing, that's it." Bucky lied, just to get Steve to shut up. Truth was, to him this was no casual thing. You were it for him. But he didn’t know if you wanted that. And he also knew it would be difficult telling your father about the two of you, and Bucky didn’t want him to accidentally hear about it from Steve.
“Buck-”
“Steve, like I said, it’s a casual thing and it means nothing, okay?” Bucky interrupted him, thinking he was still trying to pry. However, when Steve gestured to the person behind him, he realized the poor guy was just trying to warn him that you were right behind him, and judging from the look on your face, you definitely heard what Bucky said.
Before he could even say anything though, you turned around and started walking back to your room. Bucky quickly followed behind you but you just ignored him. Once you got to your room, he followed you inside, and you didn’t stop him. Instead, you started picking up all of the things he left in your room. He tried to apologize as you collected all his things and just ignored him.
"Baby stop, I didn't meant that, I'm sorry. Please just let me explain,” Bucky moved his hands to cup your face and try to get you to look at him, but you just pulled away from him.
"I don't wanna hear it." You muttered, picking up his book from the bedside table.
"Please just let me explain, doll." Bucky sighed, taking the book from you and putting it back down.
"Take your stuff with you and get the fuck out. I don't wanna see you," You said, shoving the book back in his arms.
Even though you never made things official, you clearly had strong feelings for each other. It hurt when he said it was just a casual thing, but it hurt even more when he said it didn’t mean anything. Is that how he really felt? You didn’t mean anything to him? Maybe he didn't even have feelings for you like you thought he did.
Fuck this, you needed a drink. The girls were going out tonight, and you were supposed to go but then you made plans with Bucky. Looking down at your clock, you wondered if you could still make it to go out with them. You probably could if you started getting ready right now. But in order to do that, you needed Bucky to leave.
"Please just listen to me, I'm not going anywhere until you listen to me." Bucky tried again as he watched you walk over to your closet. He was about to explain his side of the story until he noticed you were starting to strip your clothes off, "Uhh doll, what are you doing?"
"I'm going out with the girls, and I have to get ready but you won't leave," You rolled your eyes as you slipped on a random skirt before looking through your closet for a top.
"I thought we had plans tonight…" Bucky frowned, folding his arms as he watched you get dressed.
If there is one thing this man had, it was the fucking audacity. You took a deep breath before picking up another one of his books and throwing it at him, "Bucky if you don’t leave right now, I swear to god,”
"Ow! Okay okay I'm leaving," Bucky dodged the next book you threw at him, and decided it was best to leave you alone for now. Once he got to your door though, he stood there quietly for a second before attempting to apologize again, only to have the door slammed in his face.
..
"You sure it's a good idea to spy on her after what you did?" Sam smirked, looking back at the nearby booth where you, Nat, and Wanda were sitting. Sam was a little skeptical at first when Bucky practically begged him and Steve to go clubbing tonight. Although, it was clear now that he only came here for you.
"I'm not spying on her, I didn't even know she was here." Bucky rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his drink.
"Right, so it's just a coincidence that she's here too, huh?" Steve smirked, as he watched Bucky stare at you intently.
Back at your booth, Wanda laughed at something Nat said, but then she noticed how you were still pretty quiet, just like you had been since you got there. Before she could said anything though, she heard Sam’s booming laughter coming one of the nearby booths. She turned to check if it was really him, "Is that- Fuck, okay don't look but Bucky is here."
You nearly spit your drink out at Wanda’s words, and resisted the urge to turn around, "Are you serious? Is he alone?"
"No, Steve and Sam are also here but umm…" Wanda watched nervously as some drunk girl nearly fell over on Bucky. She then moved closer to him, and started playing with his hair before laughing at something he said, "There's a girl sitting next to him, and I'm pretty sure she's flirting with him."
"I love your hair!" The strange girl nearly screamed drunkenly as she continued playing with Bucky's hair. He rolled his eyes and tried to push her away but she wouldn’t budge. She then grabbed his left arm, and moved it close to her face, staring at the shiny vibranium hand.
"Thanks but would you mind not doing that, please?" Bucky pulled his hand away, and tried to move further away from her once again, as both Steve and Sam tried to contain their laughter while watching this whole exchange. Sam looked over at your table when Bucky and Steve started talking but he quickly looked away when you glared back at him.
"Umm Bucky don't look but they definitely saw us, and I don't think your girl is very happy with you right now," Sam said, referring to the angry expression on your face as you watched the girl continue to flirt with Bucky.
"What is she doing? Is she still with the girls?" Bucky asked, trying his best not to turn around to look at you.
This time Steve turned around, watching you and Wanda talk for a minute until Natasha came back to the table with a tray of shots, “She's taking shots with the girls, I think it's tequila?"
"Fuck she can't handle more than five shots, especially tequila. She's a lightweight, last time she passed out after like four." Bucky groaned, thinking back to the last time you drank tequila, "How many do you think she's had so far?"
"I think she's about to have her fifth one." Steve gulped, as he watched you take down your fifth shot.
"Fuck, I'm gonna go check on her." Bucky got up from the table but Sam quickly stopped him, making him sit back down.
"No don't do that! You're just gonna upset her even more.” Steve said, hoping Bucky will actually listen to him. Of course he didn’t though.
He got up and started walking to your table through the crowd, only to get there and realize it was empty. He turned around and saw you stumbling drunkenly through the crowd towards his booth.
"You piece of shit, you couldn't even wait one fucking day!" You yelled as you approached his table, both Wanda and Nat following behind you. They were too drunk to stop you from going over to Bucky’s booth to yell at him. You watched the drunk girl from before lean closer to kiss him, and you immediately pushed her off of him, only to realize it wasn’t even Bucky she was trying to kiss "Steve?! Wha- Where the fuck is Bucky?”
Steve almost laughed before pointing at Bucky who was standing behind you. You didn’t get much chance to say anything to him though, as your head started spinning even more. Then before you knew it, you practically collapsed in his arms and passed out.
..
You woke up to the excruciatingly loud sound of Bucky’s alarm. Reaching over to turn it off, you quickly realized you were in Bucky's room. Though you couldn’t remember how you got there or why you were wearing his clothes.
Before you could sneak back to your room though, Bucky walked in with a tray in one hand and a coffee in another, and quietly put it down on the dresser. Picking up a bottle of water from the tray, he walked over to the bed and put it on the bedside table. He was about to leave again until he noticed you were awake.
"Oh good, you're finally up.” He handed you the bottle of water, as well as some painkillers, “Here's some ibuprofen, it'll help with your headache. Oh and I made some breakfast and got you coffee."
"Look I'm not in the mood for-" You protested as he brought the tray of food over to the bed, but he quickly shushed you before you could continue.
"Just listen. I made your favourite, pancakes with strawberries on top. I also got you some cereal, if you something lighter. Oh and of course, a vanilla latte with oat milk instead of regular, and an extra shot of espresso." He gestured to the coffee, smiling softly at you.
Bucky watched you for a minute, and sighed when you remained still. Taking the bottle of water from you, he put it back down on tray. He then took your hands in his, kissing them gently before looking up at you, "I know you’re angry. I know you wanna yell at me, but first I need you to eat some breakfast for me. It'll help you feel better, and you'll have more energy so that you can argue with me properly. I promise once you finish eating I'll sit here quietly and you can yell at me for as long as you want."
You nearly chuckled as he said that, and he laughed as well before saying, “I’m serious, I can even teach you some swear words in Russian so you can yell at me some more.”
"I hate you." You groaned, moving closer to hug him.
"I know, baby, I know. I'm sorry." Bucky sighed, hugging you back tightly, like he never wanted to let go, “I never should've said that, I didn't mean to hurt you."
"Why did you say it?" You mumbled, with your arms still wrapped around him.
"Honestly, I wasn’t sure if you even wanted a proper relationship with me. Plus you haven't told your dad about us yet, and I didn't want him finding out from Steve.”
"He knows already." You confessed, pulling away from Bucky. He looked back at you, confused, and you explained, "Well actually I was on my way to tell you he figured it out because of the security tape but then I heard you talking to Steve…"
Bucky sighed, feeling guilty about the way he made you feel, "Baby, I'm so sorry. I promise I didn't mean what I said, in fact I was dying to tell him everything." Bucky pulled you back in for a hug, and you melted into his touch. You stayed like that for a bit till Bucky broke the silence, "So, he knows, huh?"
You laughed at how nervous he sounded, "Oh yeah, but then I called him from the club last night, and told him what happened…"
"Oh god, he's gonna kill me, isn't he?" Bucky groaned thinking about what Stark was gonna do to him when he found out you were back together. And this time in an official relationship.
"Yeah, he might.” You nodded, laughing at the look on his face, making him glare back at you in response. Getting up from the bed, you leaned down to kiss his neck, “Anyways, I'm gonna go shower before breakfast, feel free to join me."
You quickly rushed off to the shower, and Bucky was about to follow you until he heard your phone ringing. "Baby your phone is-” He smirked when he realized it was Tony calling, “Your dad’s calling you, baby, Hello?"
"Hi Baby, you're not in your room, where are you? Are you okay?" Tony asked assuming it was you on the phone but then he realized it wasn't you who picked up, “Bucky, is that you?”
"Yes, sir. Sorry your daughter is in the shower, did you wanna leave a message?" Bucky smirked, knowing he was just pissing him off even more.
"Why the fuc- What is she- I-" Tony couldn’t even complete one sentence with how angry he was getting but Bucky just laughed at his reaction, "You know what, I do wanna leave a message but it's for you, go fuck yourself."
"Aw love you too, have a great day." Bucky laughed, hanging up on him before walking over to the bathroom to join you in the shower.
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taglist/moots: @starobi @chrisevansdaughter @cherryflavoredchapsticck @livvinitt @marvel1984 @babyhoneyriv @babyhatesreality @timidpumpkin @matchat3a @pono-pura-vida @sonalokibarnes @alex-ackerman-11 @ailathealternate @buckysugar
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th30ra3k3n · 5 months
Text
“it was the eyes.
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the secret of love was in the eyes.
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the way one person looked at another,
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the way eyes communicated and
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spoke when lips never moved.”
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(v.c. andrews)
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ltbarnes · 4 months
Text
‘Tis the Damn Season
Stark U #6
Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, you’re too drunk, you’ve basically avoided Bucky and Steve for six months and the last person you’d want to meet at this party just happens to be yelling in your face. The panic attack is inevitable, really.
Pairing: college!Steve Rogers x reader, college!Bucky Barnes x reader, college!Sam Wilson x reader, college!Natasha Romanoff x reader
Word count: 7.8k
Warnings: so much angst, past SA, alcohol, talk about violence, Christmas celebrations, things finally start to happen, kissing :)
A/N: Happy holidays to anyone who celebrates and to those who don’t, I hope you have a good few days anyways <3 This is the first I’ve posted since July which is awful of me so sorry
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You didn't see them all summer. The day after your last exam was over, you bolted back to your hometown and spent the entire summer selectively ignoring messages from Bucky and Natasha and Steve and Sam asking what you were doing and how your summer was going and maybe you could all meet up and go somewhere and—
It's December now, and every goddamn day since June you have been trying to figure out if what Bucky said to you when you were sick was a fever-induced hallucination or if he really, actually, said that he wanted you to take his last name someday. It made you panic, because the entire spring term you tried to convince yourself that your feelings towards them were batshit crazy and any inkling to them feeling the same was a delusional reach, grasping for crumbs that in reality were just friendly gestures. And then he says that.
"She's just practicing her future last name, Stevie."
So, yeah...things have been weird. Three months have passed since classes started and none of you want to mention what happened right before summer break. Actually, with each day passing you feel more like maybe it was just a hallucination or a very vivid dream, because both Bucky and Steve act like it never even happened. Bucky even had his mouth latched onto some blonde sophomore at a dumb, stupid frat party on Halloween. You went home right after and cried for two hours. But it's not hard to conclude that even if there was some spark or connection or anything beyond friendship with either of them before summer, it has died out completely.
The subject will probably never be broached. You're too scared of confrontation and definitely too scared of revealing unreciprocated feelings for that to happen. The slightly tense atmosphere in the loft is entirely your fault—your lack of communication with anyone in the group during the summer has made them a little confused, you guess. You mostly spend time in your room, giving excuses of studying and talking with parents on the phone and 'I'm just tired, sorry'.
Spending too much time with Natasha scares you too, because she reads you so well and you don't want her to know how hurt and unhappily in love you are. She'll try to do something about it and then Steve and Bucky will catch on and then you will end up rejected and labeled as crazy, because who the fuck falls in love with two people?
That doesn't mean you've managed to avoid her. Living in the same apartment as her definitely makes that hard, but just the fact that she won't let you makes it impossible. Last week she even broke into your room when you had it locked, because apparently she knows how to pick a lock open in under ten seconds. She absolutely knows something is off, but so far she hasn't brought it up.
Natasha is the sole reason why you're now standing in the backyard of some rich kid's house just off campus, surrounded by smoke from cheap cigarettes and fairy lights hung up between the trees and one too many shots of vodka in your blood. It's December utterly and thoroughly—there's snow on the ground but people still haven't accepted the fact that wearing their short dresses and tank tops without jackets does not work anymore. Ice drops hangs from the tree where you stand, listening to Natasha talk with a drunken girl looking for her phone.
It's fun, sure. Not the worst party you've been to and not the best either. You talked to the girl you've been sitting next to in History class earlier for almost twenty minutes. Got free vodka. It's Friday and you don't have any exams to study for. None of that makes you forget that things aren't the same.
"Nat. Nat." You poke her shoulder repeatedly, obnoxiously probably, until she glances over her shoulder with a slight glare.
"What is it?"
"I'm gonna get 'nother drink. Inside," you tell her, pointing with your thumb towards a hedge even though it was meant to be the door. Natasha seems to understand anyway.
"Okay. Don't wander off too long. And come back here right after."
"Yes, ma'am." You give her a half-assed salute before turning around, swaying slightly in your step. It's the uneven and slippery surface of the snow-covered ground, you tell yourself.
There's a lot of people here, is what you note as you push yourself through the seemingly endless crowds of the living room. You kind of hate that they haven't played a single song you like and if Steve was here he would agree, because he doesn't listen to any music made after the internet was born. Bucky would then make fun of Steve and you would laugh and everything would be right in the world. Instead you're pressed to kitchen drawers of a dark kitchen, cheap vodka mixed with soda running down your throat.
The kitchen is crowded too, but either way it's a respite from whatever the hell's going on in the living room. Jumping up and down and calling it dancing (you were doing the same the hour before). You're too drunk to be miserable about everything happening in your life this entire term and much too drunk to feel the absolute atrocious taste of your drink.
In half an hour you will probably throw up and tomorrow will be spent nursing a horrible hangover, but those consequences seem insignificant right now. You just keep thinking about the image of Bucky shoving his tongue down someone's throat that wasn't yours. It was heartbreaking. That he's not here is a good thing, because you'd either witness the same thing again or actually bring it up to him, and that's much worse. God knows it's only a matter of time before Steve does the same thing.
Someone pushes into you, forcing the liquid from your cup to spill from the confines of the red plastic onto your dress. It's black, so it doesn't really matter, but the alcohol still seeps through the fabric until it reaches your skin.
"Shit, fuck—"
Your hand tries to somehow dry your dress by fanning the fabric, which obviously doesn't help very much, and the paper towels placed on the counter in front of you escape your drunken mind completely.
Fresh air and icy winter winds are the only options, so you push through and stumble into people on your way outside. It takes a lot longer than it should. You can't really see much considering the dizziness and darkness inside, but somehow, magically, you are eventually dragging your way towards Natasha who stands in the same place as before.
"Nat. Natty—I spilled. Look."
The black dress with the now wet patch is lifted towards her by your hands, highlighted for her to see. You sway as you tell her.
"Jesus, you can barely stand straight," Natasha answers with a stabling hand to your shoulder, shaking her head to herself instead of focusing on the very urgent fact that you spilled on yourself.
Natasha turns to the girl she's talking to, saying something you can't bother to decipher, before stepping aside with a guiding arm around you.
"We gotta get you home before you embarrass yourself for real," she mumbles underneath her breath.
"I heard that," you whisper, a loud hiccup following. Whoops.
She rolls her eyes, fishing her phone up from her pocket.
"Who—who you writing? To?" you ask, slightly aware that your sentences lack correct structure but not really caring. As long as the message comes across, right?
"I'm texting Steve. I can't drive and you sure as hell can't."
Even in your state, panic instantly sets in over the mention of his name even though you live in the same goddamn apartment.
"Nooo. No Steve."
Your hand grasps for her phone. Nat pulls it away from your reach much quicker than you can comprehend.
"Yes Steve. You're a mess and he's the only one with the patience to take care of this level of drunk. I don't care that you're avoiding them for some stupid goddamn reason," she tells you.
"Nat," you whine. "He can't see me. I spilled!"
She just glares at you. "I swear to god, Y/n...nobody cares that you spilled your drink. I can't even see it."
"I'm so drunk!"
"Yeah, I know. Just—just stay here, okay? I'm going to get you some water so you can sober up by the time your precious Steve comes for us."
Natasha is heading inside before you can process her words. Waiting in place for a few minutes turns into an eternity in your mind. She should know better than to leave you unattended and then expect you to stay—really, it's her own fault. You will accept no blame if Nat gets mad at you for going inside again. It's cold and you need to go to the bathroom. Also, you're mad at her. Telling Steve to come get you? That's just...embarrassing.
Once again you're shouldering your way past people on about the same level of intoxication as you. There's a bad remix of a Christmas song playing loudly. Makes you wanna punch whoever's phone is connected to the speaker. The bathroom is so, so far away. It's something the architect of this house should've thought of before he put it at the very end of this long hallway you're currently making your way through, but clearly he didn't have you in mind.
"Fuck! Watch where you're going, asshole," some girl seethes at you as your shoulder nudges against hers. A nudge is an exaggeration—you brushed against it at most. She's probably an aggressive drunk, that's all.
You don't answer, instead fumbling for the door handle to what you believe might be the bathroom. Some couple is making out in here, the girl with her ass planted on the edge of the bathtub and the guy nearly devouring her face. Doesn't look very pleasant, if you're honest.
"Out. I need to pee."
Your hands find their way to their shoulders, ushering the lovesick pair out of the room without much protest from either of them. They're still making out as they walk out.
Despite your less than sober state, you manage to remember to lock the door after they leave. Some of the mascara that previously inhabited your lashes has moved down to rest under your eyes. You rub it away, smudging it slightly, but it just makes you look a little more like one of those cool girls you always see on campus. It will do.
You kind of want to throw up, but decide against it. That hasn't happened since you were a freshman, and you'd like to keep it that way. Staring at yourself in the mirror occupies your time in the bathroom instead, swaying slightly with your hands placed on the cold sink. If Steve saw you now he would be so disappointed. At least you imagine he would be—that fatherly look on his face as he tells you how you need to be more mindful with your alcohol consumption. Did you even watch who poured your drink? Never go anywhere alone at a party. Especially not a frat one. You know better than this, Y/n.
Steve's imaginary voice is interrupted by someone banging on the door, shouting for you to hurry the fuck up. It's been over ten minutes, but to you it just feels like three, and Natasha has been looking for you ever since she returned to the garden with a glass of water in her hand and no one to give it to. It's not her banging on the door, unfortunately, but instead a dickhead guy who has no patience. Can't a girl spend some time alone in the bathroom doing nothing anymore?
The guy glares at you as you push the door open, stumbling out into the crowded hallway while paying him no mind. It's dark save for the red LED-lights plastered on the walls, making it feel like a seedy dive bar instead of a seedy house. You don't see much.
"Hey! Hey, you—the girl with the black dress!"
Someone pushes their way past the people talking and making out and leaning against the walls, shoving through them as he searches for your attention. Of course, you don't really think it's you he's after. Half of the people at this party are wearing black dresses.
A clammy hand finds purchase on your shoulder, halting you in your less than gracious steps and turning you around with ease. Head tilted back, gaze running upwards until they settle on the face of a quite attractive guy. He doesn't look pretty happy to see you. You're not very happy to see him either.
The blood drains from your face, stealing away all that alcohol-induced heat within a second as his curly hair and green eyes look down at you with that same contempt he had when Sam dragged him away from the kitchen almost a year ago. You had hoped you never had to see him again. It was a naive thing to wish for.
"Y/n, right?" he asks bitterly. You don't answer, but he takes your silence as a yes. It was probably a rhetorical question anyway. His slightly crooked nose was perfectly straight the last time you saw him. His face is committed to your memory, burned in to taunt you on sleepless nights and everytime an unknown man walks a little too closely when you're out alone. "Your little boyfriend broke my fucking nose. You know that?"
Another rhetorical question. Definitely more threatening. Might be the tight grip he has on your arm too. Either way, his mere presence has apparently stripped away your ability to breathe normally. It feels like you've been running to the point of nausea, dark spots dancing before your eyes as he shakes you in attempt to get an answer.
"You ruined my fucking reputation. For what? I barely touched you. Such a sensitive fucking bitch, going around telling everyone that..." His voice trails off, ushering you into a quiet corner when he realizes people are staring. "Got nothing to say now, huh? Been so good at running your fucking mouth before, haven't you?"
"Let me go," you whisper, voice wavering. You don't sound assertive at all, instead weak and fearful. It's what you feel, as an upbeat, slightly bad cover rendition of "All I Want For Christmas" booms through the house. Girls shrieking in excitement over in the living room reaches your ears. You would have joined them if you weren't currently cornered by the guy who assaulted you in your own kitchen a year ago.
"No, we're going to fucking talk. What the fuck were you doing, going around saying shit like that about me to everyone?"
"I...I didn't..." Your lips part between words, breathing out shakily, trying to articulate sentences long enough to make sense. Why can't you speak? Why can't you even think?
"You didn't what?" he seethes. "You're such a fucking bitch, you know that? Acts all innocent and hides behind her friends. My nose is fucking crooked forever because of that fuckhead you sent after me."
Is it the alcohol that renders you this goddamn useless? There's just tears springing to your eyes, unable to say anything in defense of yourself. Can't even walk away.
He pushes you against the wall, knocking the breath out of you. To other people it probably looks like you're hooking up. At least that's what you hope they think, because otherwise you want to wonder why no one is intervening.
"Joshua, please let me go," you tell him again, even more pathetic this time. You're crying now, curled in on yourself in attempt to make yourself as small as possible.
"Fuck, you're so—"
"She told you to let her go."
The assertive, familiar tone booms through the hallway. It doesn't really, can probably only be heard by the people around you, but it feels like it when Steve's tall figure pushes through with hasty steps towards where you and Joshua stand, followed by a glaring Bucky with his jaw clenched so fucking tightly. A sob of relief is drawn from your lips, muffled by the back of your hand.
Joshua steps back instantly. Kind of funny to think that he's so scared of those two, and sad to think that he only respects a 'no' when it comes from men.
"Nice nose job," Bucky speaks up, pointing at his own nose as he stares at Joshua's crooked one, courtesy of the damn good punch he managed to land with his left fist all those months ago.
"Fuck you," Joshua growls, taking a step forward in attempt to appear more threatening or something. He doesn't really succeed—both Bucky and Steve towers over him in both length and build, unrelenting in their stance. As if they're stone walls keeping out the enemy.
Steve rolls his his eyes, shaking his head with a sigh. "Just get out of here. Don't go near her ever again, you hear me? Bucky's glad to fix your nose otherwise. Break it right back. Can't promise the result will be very good, though."
Bucky stands slightly behind Steve, raising an eyebrow in Joshua's direction that tells him there's not even a trace of a lie in the blonde giant's statement.
"You—fuck this." Joshua throws his hands in the air, aiming the most distasteful glare over his shoulder in your direction, before pushing past Steve and Bucky with a shove.
Your body instantly deflates, the tension melting off your limbs as you close your eyes and lean back against the wall. Gentle, firm hands instantly reach your cheeks, your arms, searching for any trace Joshua might have left behind on your body.
"Hey, hey. Y/n, are you okay? Did he touch you? Sweetheart, look at me."
Bucky's voice draws you out of the anxious, panicked state you slipped into, fluttering your eyelids open to see his worried frown and an equally worried Steve looming behind him. Wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes greet them, pupils dilated from the alcohol.
"Y/n, are you hurt? How long have you two been talking?" Steve adds, looming over you in such a way that his large frame blocks out any of the colorful lights plastered on the walls.
They already know you're drunk—Natasha was the one to call them here to get you, after all. Maybe your silence and obvious intoxication makes it clear to them after a couple of seconds that an answer from you is a few minutes away, a few miles of distance from this foggy, packed house. Nothing more is said or requested from you. Instead your trembling form is led away and out into the biting cold by gentle hands belonging to your friends. Even your slight shock can't shield you from freezing your ass off as soon as you get out into the fresh air again, teeth beginning to chatter within the second step on tightly packed snow.
"What the—where the hell have you been? I swear to god, Y/n, I was gone for two minutes! I've been looking for you everywhere!" an angry Natasha yells, running perfectly towards the three of you down the slippery lawn to where Steve is currently helping you into the backseat of his car.
"Nat," Steve says, giving her a pleading look that silently tells her it's not the time for a scolding.
"What? I told her to stay put when I went to get her a glass of water and she just disappeared out of nowhere. Slippery motherfucker while drunk, I swear she'll be the death of me—"
"Nat," he repeats, sternly this time. In that tone only he masters, silencing even the most eager tongues with a single exhale. "She met Joshua. And she's not okay. So please, leave your yelling for tomorrow and get in the car."
Steve holds the passenger door open, gesturing for the seat beside Bucky. He's turning the key, letting the car warm up properly while he clutches the wheel tightly. Natasha's irritated frown turns into a concerned one, nodding silently before slipping inside. Steve closes the door shut behind her.
You lean your head against the frost-covered window, fogged up by your breath two inches away from it, and close your eyes. Steve leans over you, reaching for the belt and fastens it over your torso. You forgot. He never does.
It's no surprise, doesn't startle you despite your absentminded state, when his warm hand cups your cheek, turns your head to face him. Soft, blue gaze and ridiculously long lashes. It's nothing but contrasting against the clouds released from your mouths with each breath—warm, concerned...loving? Maybe.
"Are you okay?" he whispers, thumb rubbing over your cheek.
You nod. "Yes. I am now."
Bucky puts his foot on the gas, turns on the blinker, and pulls away from the curb, out onto the streets. It's nearly soundless. The usual rumble from wheels against road is cushioned by the snow.
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"This was a mistake. Sorry, I can't—" Sam gags, moving his head out of the bathroom before returning his presence within a few seconds. "You're a real shitty guard, Nat. Why'd you let her drink this much?"
All four of your roommates are gathered in the bathroom, surrounding you as if you're a newly born lion cub in a zoo, while you puke your guts out into the toilet. Steve is kneeling on the floor beside you, a comforting hand rubbing your back, while Bucky sits a few feet away with a glass of water in hand, ready for whenever you need it.
"Fuck you. You weren't there—she was like a goddamn ghost, just slipping away everytime I blinked. Looked fucking everywhere for her. 'S not my fault," Nat answers, residing on the floor of the shower in lack of space.
"Not true," you murmur in answer, your voice echoing off the ceramic surrounding you.
You're pretty much done throwing up, it's just the exhaustion following that's keeping you slumped over on the bathroom tile. Your hand stretches out in Bucky's direction, reaching for the glass of water that's gulped down within a few seconds.
"Careful. Gonna get sick again if you do it this fast," Bucky says, unable to help himself from brushing away the stray drops of water running down your chin.
The gesture is nothing new from him. He did it when you were sick all those months ago too, and you haven't forgotten it at all. His thumb gently rubbing over your skin as if you're precious, something deserving of gentleness, is engraved into your mind. You're thankful for getting most of the alcohol out of your system, because you might not have remembered this moment in the morning if not. Fuck it if you forgot the way his pupils widen just slightly, as if he didn't mean to, as if he couldn't help himself.
"I'm fine," you whisper in answer, clearing your throat. "Got it all out."
"Good." Steve's hand moves up from your back to your head, stroking it for just a second before withdrawing his touch. "Let's get you to the couch."
"I don't wanna go to the couch. Wanna be in my bed." You're pouting. Maybe there is some trace of alcohol left in you.
"Steve and Buck will feel much less like creepy stalkers if they stare at you sleeping on the couch instead of hovering around your bedroom all night like a bunch of pervs," Natasha speaks up. A snort follows after, as if it was a joke and not a statement. Definitely tipsy too, despite unwilling to admit such a weakness.
Steve raises a reprimanding eyebrow Natasha's way, telling her to shut her mouth with just his gaze. She smirks in answer.
"Don't listen to her. A fucking liar," Bucky remarks, but there's still some form of amusement in his expression. He can't even deny the statement—he is going to watch over you. Doesn't really matter if it's in the living room or in your bedroom. "Now let's get you up. C'mon."
With a push from your arms against the cold tile, you're standing on two legs again. Steve is hovering his hand near your back, ready to support if the vodka decides to topple you over. But you're fine—just tired now.
For ten minutes it feels things are back to normal again. On the living room couch, nestled in between them, your head leaning on Steve's shoulder as a stupid Hallmark Christmas movie plays on the tv. Sam and Natasha are in their rooms sleeping, and for a few moments you forget why you kept your distance. Everything would have been good if this is how the night would end. If Steve didn't have to address the past six months.
"I've missed this. With us," Steve whispers as he strokes your shoulder absentmindedly, like it's second nature to him to have his hands on your skin. "You've been so distant lately. For months, Y/n."
The room instantly becomes tense enough to make you nauseous. A clearing of your throat, an attempt to sit up out of Steve's hold and away from this conversation that you'd much rather avoid is futile—it's instantly stopped by Bucky's hand on your chest that pushes you right back.
"No," he says sternly. "You're gonna sit right here, sweetheart, and tell us why you've barely let us see you since fall term started. 'Cause it's sure as fuck not something I take lightly. Why have you avoided us?"
You look away, shaking your head to yourself as you try to talk yourself down. You will not break. You will not confess a single thing. You are going to act like everything is fine and you are not currently freaking out being sandwiched between the only two men you would gladly be sandwiched between under different circumstances than this.
"What are you even talking about?" you answer meekly. It's clear as soon as the words come out of your mouth that no one is falling for your innocent act, not even sweet, naive Steve. Then again, you're doing a particularly bad job. "Both of you think I've been distant?"
"Cut the bullshit, Y/n. If we've done something wrong, just say so." Bucky bites his cheek, glancing down for just a second, but it's enough to let his vulnerability slip. He's hurt.
A wave of guilt instantly washes over your body, an unusual feeling. During all these months of avoiding any interaction with Bucky and Steve besides the necessary ones, you didn't think that they'd actually mind your absence that much. They might not be hopelessly in love with you like you are with them, but they're still your friends. Friends miss each other.
"Or if it's something personal, you can tell us, you know? Is it anxiety, or are you feeling generally low, or...?" Steve chips in, trying to drown out Bucky's accusatory tone.
"No, no...I'm not depressed, Steve. And none of you have done anything wrong, I promise," you say hastily, shutting down their concerns as quickly as possible while trying to buy yourself time to come up with an excuse. "I just...needed some alone time."
Bucky rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Sassy man. "Bullshit again. You've spent a bunch of time with Natasha. Sam, too. It's us you're avoiding." He points to himself and Steve with his hand. "It's been almost six months, Y/n. What the hell's your problem?" He pushes himself off the couch, standing up and blocking your view of the tv. It's as if his frustration is all contained while sitting down.
"Bucky," Steve scolds, glaring up at his friend. He's not appreciating the tone at all, that's for sure.
"There's no problem, Bucky," you tell him, shaking your head. Trying to dismiss this entire conversation before you reveal too much.
"No! Y/n, I'm going fucking crazy! This is the first time you've even let me touch you in half a year!" Bucky yells, a pleading tone in his voice that breaks your heart just a little. Because it's true. You have barely even hugged since June. You've barely talked for more than five minutes at a time.
"Don't yell at her, for god's sake, Bucky," Steve adds, his hands on your shoulders and ready to get up from the couch any second.
"What the hell's going on with you, huh?!" Bucky continues, ignoring Steve's statement. His eyes are solely focused on you, void of the usual softness. There's just anger. "Cause if you can't stand us, then tough fucking luck. I can have your fucking things moved out by tomorrow for all I care. Can move right into Walker's dorm. Bet he'd accept you with open fucking arms if you get to your knees and—“
The drop of your heart down to your stomach can almost be heard, an echoing, hollow sound. You're sure of it. Bucky shuts his mouth, as if he realizes what exactly was about to come out of it. What is not even a second of silence feels like a whole minute, before Steve shoots up from his seat beside you and grabs Bucky by the collar, rattling the whole room with the force in which he nearly tackles Bucky against the wall with. The tangy taste of iron starts to fill your mouth, your teeth biting down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. There's tears lingering in your eyes but you can't hold them back, not anymore.
"You don't fucking talk to her like that, you bast—"
"I love you! It’s ��cause I fucking love you guys!” you yell, a pathetic sob marring the words. “So I’m fucking sorry that I’ve avoided you two but I’m trying to get over these goddamn—these feelings, but I can’t, okay! I can’t!”
The bitter delivery is punctuated by the sleeve of your sweater wiping away the tears furiously, cutting Steve off and drawing both of their wild eyes towards your figure now standing up, just a minute away from a complete breakdown. You don't even process the fact that Steve cursed. It would've been teased about endlessly in any other situation.
"I will go. I'll leave if that's what you want," you seethe with a voice so unsteady that it's almost unbearable to listen to. "But I don’t hate any of you. I don’t, and I get why you’re mad. But fuck you, Bucky. Fuck you for saying that.”
More tears fall. It's futile to wipe them away when they'll be replaced the second after. You want to say more, hit Bucky where it hurts, but you cannot get the goddamn words to form on your lips. Opening your mouth and closing it again, shaking your head, comes before hastily walking towards your room and locking yourself inside without giving them a chance to answer.
As soon as the door is slammed shut, your hand comes up to your mouth to muffle the sobs. Sinking down to the floor as if you’re in a movie, forehead resting against your knees. The rate of your heartbeats could be considered dangerously high, but you just blurted out a whole love confession for two of your roommates in the midst of a fight. How the hell could everything turn to shit so quickly? Half an hour ago all of you were joking around in the bathroom, and now you're not sure you have the courage to face any of them again.
It's a rash, impulsive decision fueled by anger and betrayal and shame, but you rush over to your closet and pull out an overnight bag that's soon filled to the brim with enough things to last you a few days. You're crying the entire time.
When you pass the living room again, Bucky isn't there anymore. But Steve is. Barely a glance his way is spared, with hasty steps heading towards the hallway. You remind yourself of a furious toddler when you angrily put on your jacket, stick your feet into your winter boots. The bag is slung over your shoulder, hand resting on the door handle.
"Don't go. Y/n, please don't leave."
Steve stands at the other side of the hallway, a broken down expression on his pretty face.
"Bucky went out of line, but he didn't mean it, I swear. He's just too prideful to admit it," he continues. You shake your head, biting down on your bottom lip. "Please, honey. It’s Christmas Eve. It won’t be the same if you’re not here tomorrow.”
"I just need some space," you whisper, brushing away a stray tear with the sleeve of your jacket. You’re so embarrassed and hurt that you can barely look him in the eye. "I can't be in the same apartment as him right now."
Steve sighs, looking about ready to just throw you over his shoulder to get you to stay. But he won't do that. That's not Steve. So instead he glances down to the floor, shaking his head to himself.
“Did you mean it?” he asks softly. “The thing about—you said you loved us. Did you mean it?”
It takes a few seconds before you nod tentatively, sniffling and keeping your gaze on a spot past Steve. He doesn’t say anything.
Steve gathers courage enough to walk up to where you stand by the door, grabbing your cheeks with his hands, thumb running over the tear-stained skin gently. For a few moments, he just looks at you. Loud thoughts running amok in that perfect head of his.
“Nothing I say right now will do my feelings any justice, so I’m gonna save any big speeches for tomorrow. But just…stay. It’s 2 am, it’s freezing out and you’re still drunk. I don’t want you out there on the streets alone. I need you to stay, even if it’s only for your own safety. Don’t have to talk to any of us if you don’t want to.”
His words makes you nod automatically. All it took was his hands on your skin and the flicker of hope his words ignite in your chest, and you conceded within a second. No hesitation left in that exhausted body of yours. He‘s not saying outright that your feelings are requited, but it doesn’t feel like a rejection either. He doesn’t seem disgusted by your confession, by the knowledge that you’re in love with both him and his best friend.
“Good girl. Let’s just—let’s get you to bed, okay?”Steve tells you, squeezing your shoulder gently. With your confirmation in form of another silent nod, he nestles the bag out of your grip and takes off the jacket from your torso.
The bed feels so soft and warm and comforting when you lie down. Steve tucks you in. It’s achingly sweet and you don’t really deserve it after avoiding him and Bucky like that for so long, but he looks out for you nonetheless.
“Steve,” you whisper, drawing his gaze up to meet yours. “I’m sorry. For being so distant.”
He shakes his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were scared,” Steve answers. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? Get some sleep. You’ve had a tough night, Y/n.”
The softest of smiles grazes your lips, puppy eyes gazing up at Steve. Your wonderful, caring, perfect Steve.
“Are you alright? It must’ve been hard meeting Joshua again. And what Bucky said, it…it was far from okay.”
“I will be,” you whisper.
He nods, observes your face for a few seconds. Leans down to press a kiss to your forehead—what kind of college guy even does that? And then he leaves the room, turning the light off behind him.
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You’re woken up by a red headed, crazy woman sitting on top of you over the sheets, shaking your shoulders.
“Wake up, fuckhead. You’re gonna open the presents I got you,” Natasha urges, grinning down at you as you blink your eyes open, groaning.
“Fuckhead?” you ask, a tired chuckle from your lips as Natasha climbs off the bed.
“Yes. Don’t like it, huh?” she teases. “C’mon. The guys are already waiting.”
With slow steps and a loud yawn, the slightest trace of a hangover plaguing your body, you drag yourself out into the living room. Around the ugly, little tree that Sam insisted on cutting down from the campus gardens last week (he almost got arrested by the security guards) the three boys sit. Your gaze falls to the floor, scratching the skin right above your lip nervously, once Bucky looks up at you. Can’t really read his expression, but you figure you’ll lay the fight aside for the day. It’s Christmas, after all.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Steve says, urging you to sit down next to him right there on the carpet. You offer a soft smile, and an even softer ‘Merry Christmas’ back. You’re still unsure about yesterday. Despite there being no rejection from either of them, the uncertainty is kind of killing you. A pit of anxiety rests in your stomach, an uneasy feeling corrupting every cell as you sit down on the floor next to Steve.
Not even ten minutes later, the living room is drowning in a sea of wrapping paper. Natasha went overboard with the gift shopping this year, it seems like, but her absent father is also some kind of Russian oligarch or something so she tends to use up as much of his money as she can. You’re not complaining.
The special edition of The Hobbit, signed by the director of the movie, that you managed to get on eBay and cost you a fucking fortune is received with a whispered ‘thank you’ from Bucky. He holds it in his hands tightly, staring down at the book without a word, and you don’t know if he’s happy for it. Maybe he’s not happy with anything touched by you at this moment. He hasn’t gotten you a gift, it seems like, or maybe he threw it in the trash and burned it yesterday.
Steve got you three books that he’d heard you say you wanted months ago, and a dainty silver necklace with a bee pendant hanging from it. “You know, uh, I usually call you ‘honey’ and I thought it was a little funny, maybe. But I can exchange it if you don’t like it. It’s no problem,” he had said, even though there were tears of gratitude in your eyes. Your arms were thrown around him a second later, hugging him tightly as you thanked him profusely for the most thoughtful gift.
Now you’re leaning your back against the couch, still on the floor, watching as Sam and Natasha are tinkering with his new Nintendo Switch that he got from her (overboard with the gifts, as previously mentioned). He’s so happy it almost makes you zoned out as you watch his childlike excitement. It’s nice to see the two of them so calm and sweet with each other too. Usually bickering and getting on each other’s nerves all the time otherwise.
“Y/n, can we talk?”
Your head tilts back, looking up at Bucky standing nervously in front of you, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. There’s a deep hesitation within you, a pride that wants to say no and remain in your angry state forever without confrontation. But it’s Bucky. You hate this animosity between the two of you, the tension. Despite being pissed off and hurt and afraid that he doesn’t want you, you can’t say no, so you nod and push yourself up to a stand.
Bucky closes the door to his room behind him gently, clearing his throat and looking at anything but you. A sigh comes out of his mouth, shaking his head, before he parts his lips to speak.
“I’m so sorry, Y/n. What I said was disgusting and unforgivable and so fucking out of line. You didn’t deserve that at all. So out of proportion to what I was mad at you for,” Bucky says, running the palm of his calloused hand over his face.
“It was,” you answer honestly. There’s no use in denying that what Bucky said was stupidly hurtful. He nods, looking away from your gaze.
“It made me angry thinking that you ignored me, because at first I didn’t know what I had done, you know? And then I thought for a few months that me and Steve had been too overbearing and that you tried to keep your distance because you thought we were annoying or something. But that’s not the case. I should’ve known better by now than to think that you would do anything to purposely hurt us.”
You gulp, nodding, looking down to the floor. “I’m sorry too,” you whisper. “I didn’t know that you guys thought I had something against you until last night. Obviously, you…you know now that’s not the case,” you tell him, embracing yourself with your arms. “But last night, Bucky, I…you hurt me. I know you were angry, but saying those kind of things isn’t okay.”
“I know that. God, I know, Y/n. I’m so sorry. It was fucking childish of me, retorting to saying that Jo—“ Bucky shakes his head, hands coming up to tug at the roots of his hair. “And it felt stupid giving you that present in front of everyone, so now you think I didn’t get you anything, too, and—“
“You got me a present?”
“Yes. Of course I did, Y/n. But I saw how much Natasha had bought and that necklace Steve gave you and my gift felt stupid in comparison to that. Just didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone,” he says, a little awkwardly. A little boy giving his mother a drawing he made in kindergarten, he reminds you of.
“Bucky…that doesn’t matter. I don’t care what you have gotten me. I’ll like it no matter what if it’s from you.”
He shifts in his place, contemplating something, before picking up a sweater on his bed, revealing a wrapped present hidden underneath. Bucky took the gift from the pile without anyone noticing before, throwing it into his room so no one would see.
With a tentative hand, he reaches it out to you. Doesn’t watch as you unwrap it, instead biting on his thumbnail. You reprimand him for it, and the hand returns to his side.
“Is it a book?” You run your fingers over the cover, a hardcover with nothing on it. Blank.
“It’s a photo album. Shit, it’s stupid. I don’t know,” Bucky answers, looking about ready to snatch it back, but you open the first page up before he has a chance to.
A picture of you, Natasha, Sam and Steve on the first page. It was taken last year in November. You’re all running after one of Sam’s model planes, fall leaves singling down from the sky. It’s a beautiful picture.
“4 grown idiots running after a kid’s toy - November 12th, 2022”
“It’s just pics I’ve taken with my phone, so it’s nothing artsy or anything, but…uhm.” Bucky runs his hand through his short, brown hair.
You flip the page. You’re looking out through the kitchen window, the sun shining through and casting shadows over the room and your figure curled up on the chair.
“Angel in the sun - March 25th, 2023”
A soft chuckle is drawn from your lips, resisting the urge to run your finger over the photo, but you don’t want to smudge the blank paper. On the same page there’s another picture of you with your arms around Natasha’s shoulders, nearly wrestling her to the ground with the force of your hug. You look so happy.
Bucky looks nervous as you glance up from the photo album at him. “Know it’s not much, but…yeah.”
A loud huff of hair escapes Bucky as you throw your arms around him. It takes a second or two for him to hug you back, but he soon has his chin resting on top of your head, arms around your waist.
“I love it,” you whisper, holding onto him tightly enough to constrict his breathing.
“You do? I can take it back if you don’t like it.”
Your grip around him releases, arms coming down to your sides so you can take a step back and look him in the eyes. “This is everything, Bucky,” you say softly, feeling a lump in your throat that can turn into tears any second. “The fact that you took the time to make this for me is just…it’s the most thoughtful thing ever. And these pictures are so beautiful, Bucky, and just the thought of you sitting down and glueing them onto the page and writing captions and—“
His lips against yours. Oh god. Oh my god, Bucky has his lips pressed against yours. Gentle hands hold your jaw, his head leaning down to compensate for the height difference, and Bucky Barnes is kissing you with urgency and desperation.
The shock is enough to make you unable to return the kiss. He seems to take your surprise as rejection despite the fact that you literally yelled ‘I love you’ in his face last night. Bucky steps away and takes his hands off your skin, running his hand over his mouth, shaking his head.
“I’m so sorry, don’t know what the hell came over me, I—“
On your tiptoes, fingers grabbing his sweatshirt to pull him closer, and you nearly smash your lips against his to shut up any of that doubt he carries. It’s not a graceful or very romantic kiss, but by the sound akin to a very mild growl that comes from Bucky and his hands sliding down to your waist to pull you closer, you guess he likes it anyway.
It doesn’t last more than 20 seconds. A harsh knock on the door to Bucky’s room interrupts it, forcing you part from his lips and get down from your tiptoes again.
“What the hell are you doing in there? C’mon! I’ve made goddamn Christmas brunch!” Sam yells, drawing a soft chuckle from your lips as your forehead meets Bucky’s chest.
With a soft smile, nothing said, you back away from Bucky. Slipping out of his room and leaving him there all flustered and semi-hard from a 20 second make-out session. The first ever between you, though. He thinks it’s pretty understandable.
As Bucky follows you into the kitchen, sitting down at the table by Steve, he leans towards his best friend and whispers into his ear low enough to make anyone else unable to hear.
“I kissed her, Stevie,” Bucky says with a shit eating grin on his face. “I finally fucking kissed her.”
The blond man turns his head enough to look over at Bucky, the red flush of his cheeks and ears enough to tell anyone what’s been said.
“Are you serious?” Steve asks.
“I kissed her and she kissed me back, I swear. I gave her that photo album I’ve worked on for weeks. She said she loved it, Steve.”
“I guess it’s my turn then, isn’t it?” Steve answers, a shy smile on his lips as the two of them watch you sit down opposite of them at the table, glancing through the window out at the heavy snowfall. Natasha puts a newly toasted bagel on your plate.
“Go get our girl, Stevie.”
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