#the winter soldier x reader
Kill with kindness
Summary: One moment, you're a stone cold assassin, the next your flowery sundress and radiant smile blind Bucky. Well, a mission doesn't always go as planned, and your sundress doesn't always hide whatever is going on in your life.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Avenger!Reader
TW: yeah idk what this is exactly but - lil bit angst, fluff, canon violence, injuries, blood, cursing, like AU kinda thing, wrong medical info bc i aint no doctor, poorly edited bc im a busy bitch
Words: 5.9K (sorry i literally couldn't stop writing)
A/N: yeah well... its me... again. hope you liked this one, i wrote it like, weeks ago?? and forgot about it lmao but i love it sm💗 also; i woke up at 4:30 am bc finals ✨ and wasn't really in the mood to do extensive editing, so sorry for any mistakes.
For everyone who has finals; you can do it!!! Im so proud of you already 💞
Drift off on the floor, I drag you to the shore. Sweating through the sheets, you're gonna drown in your sleep for sure. Wake up and start a big fire in our one room apartment. But I'm too tired to have a pissing contest. All the bad dreams that you hide. Show me yours, I'll show you mine.
- Phoebe Bridgers, Savior complex
The way you effortlessly changed from a world class assassin into a sweet and innocent civilian had always been a mystery to Bucky.
One moment, you were throwing daggers at criminals with deadly accuracy and wiping blood off your cheek and the next you were walking around in the compound, damp hair, your citrusy perfume seducing him and a tiny sundress flowing around your figure.
To him, you were a city personified; the early morning - you were soft and silent and rays of sunshine that bounced off his skin warming, him up from the outside in, but you were also the night - loud and rambunctious, dark humor, like a bass in the clubs that reverberated through his mind constantly.
Everything about you was in stark contrast to him. During combat, you were a swift and silent assassin. You didn’t have any superhero-like abilities like the majority of the team, but the way you jumped up on the wall and twisted your legs around a guy’s neck to then fall down with grace and throw a dagger at another guy, made it seem like you did, always anticipating what was next.
Bucky was a brute force in comparison to you. From the way he ran, heavy boots stomping on the floor as he threw a knife with so much strength it pierced a guy’s hand to the wall, to the way his vibranium arm could easily crush a bone if he needed it to.
When you weren’t on a mission, the contrast was even bigger. Your bubbly laugh rang through the kitchen when you were baking chocolate chip cookies for everyone, or when you’d put a bandaid on Sam’s forehead because yes, it hurt and yes, he wanted you to take care of him, because you always made oolong tea and checked-up on everyone.
Bucky was the silent brooding type, who’d lick his own wounds in the corner of the kitchen, far away from everyone else. Sure, you’d check up on him, all toothy smiles and soft touches, but you respected his boundaries and knew when you had to go.
That was one of the many things he loved about you. The ability to sense how a person was feeling, where their boundaries were. You were one of the only people who could tread the fine line he was, the fine line he didn’t always understand himself.
You had wormed your way into his heart so easily, from the obscene jokes you told during missions to your soft whispers flowing in the night air when you were reading poetry on the roof to Bucky because he couldn’t fall asleep again after another gruelling nightmare.
Bucky couldn’t figure you out - and the more he tried to unravel the enigma that was you, the deeper he fell in love.
* * *
This morning’s mission had been... challenging. Some radical group had stolen a shipment of weapons, based on alien technology and intel said that they were gonna use it to get some people out of the raft - the kind of people that never should leave the raft ever again.
Earlier, the team had decided that Nat and you would enter the building from the back. Bucky, Steve and Sam would cause a distraction in the front of the building.
Sam was the first one up, soaring through the sky with his wings as he took out a guy who was standing on the lookout. Bucky had then proceeded to deal with a sniper, his metal hand crushing the pipe of the gun, then smacking the guy across the face with it, effectively knocking him out. Steve had run in after Sam, throwing his shield between two guys and kicking another one in the stomach. The third guy had doubled over in pain, tried to fire his gun, but missed and Steve had knocked him down.
Meanwhile, you and Nat were working on getting inside through the back. You got out your lockpicking kit, and expertly moved the tools in the lock until you heard the small click.
Natasha silently turned the knob as you put back your tools in the small pocket on the back of your suit and got out a dagger instead, one of the 13 you had on you, along with some other fun stuff.
Natasha had strangled the guy behind said door without breaking so much as a sweat, her red hair still pin straight and framing her beautiful face.
You turned to the adjacent hallway and turned your dagger sideways, so you could use it as a mirror to see what was going on there without alerting any of the potential guards.
You clicked your tongue to alert Nat, who was just done tying down the man with an elaborate knot. She propped a piece of fabric in his mouth so he couldn’t allert his accomplices and silently strode over to you.
“And that’s why I clean my knives daily,” you snickered softly as you raised your brows when she checked the reflection, clocking four heavily armed men.
“‘I’m so glad I recruited you when I did,” Natasha whispered in your ear. The two of you fell into your routine, where you would jump up against the wall and land into a criminal’s neck. You’d cut off circulation for a while, just so he’d pass out. Natasha got out her small electric devices and threw them at three other guys, electrocuting them.
“Lazy,” you scoffed as she retrieved the little devices. Natasha just threw you a lopsided grin and advanced towards the middle of the building, where the shipment of guns should be stocked according to the intel.
“Where are you guys?” Natasha’s voice rang in your ear as she contacted the supersoldiers and Sam through the comms when they still hadn’t arrived at the meeting point.
“Right...about….done,” Steve grunted as he slapped a guy across the head with his shield on the beat of the words, “we’ll be there in a minute.”
You were flipping your favourite knife as you were waiting for the boys, trying to do a trick that hadn’t been a success yet. The last flip still didn’t land the way you liked, but when you heard the three men approaching, an idea formed in your mind.
Hiding behind the corner, you let Steve and Sam pass first. They only send an eyeroll your way, but let you do it anyway. Bucky was lagging behind a bit, but once he was close enough, you rolled out from behind the corner and sent the knife flying his way.
Bucky caught your knife effortlessly, a small grin on his face, because you always kept him on his toes, never ceasing to amaze him. He flipped the knife back to you and you caught it immediately, a lazy grin on your face as you watched his cheeks turn crimson.
“Good throw,” he grinned, his blue eyes watching your face with an unreadable expression.
The team huddled together and decided what the best plan of action would be. Sam would send out Red Wing and Bucky and Steve would then bust in and take the brunt of the violence and bullets. Nat and you would sneak in after them and disarm the rest of them - there couldn’t be a lot of people left, right?
Up until that point, the mission had been a success. Everyone on your team was still healthy and going strong, easily defeating the group of criminals that were once again threatening the safety of the world.
But you should’ve knocked on wood or done something else superstitious because when Red Wing entered through the small vent above the door, it was shot out of the air immediately by a slingshot-like weapon that was definitely not from earth.
“The fuck!” Sam called out as his screen blacked out and his mouth fell open, “they didn’t just do that. Tell me they didn’t just do that!”
Bucky just clapped him on his shoulder, a small smirk present as he and Steve got ready to bust through the door.
“Didn’t you just spend like, 7 hours fixing that thing from the last time?” you snickered as you switched out your knives for ninja stars. Sam just stared at you, his jaw slightly twitching in annoyance as he switched off Red Wings interface on his arm.
The whole mission kinda went sideways after that. Bucky had pulled open the reinforced door with his vibranium arm and tossed it aside and immediately shots had been fired at you.
Steve had fended off a few guys with his shield and Bucky had picked up the discarded door to throw it at them, two of them immediately down.
There were so many more though. Intel hadn’t provided you with much information, but the fact that they were actively negotiating with another group of probably very lethal criminals could have come in handy.
“Nat!” you called out as she dodged bullets and flipped over a guy. She grabbed his head, effectively smashing it against the ground as she used gravity to help her bring down the tall man.
She turned just in time, another man blasting some sort of netting towards her. Natasha quickly ducked and rolled out of the way, the netting just grabbing her foot. Natasha was able to cut off the netting and she used it to wrap around another guy who had his back turned towards her, fighting with Steve.
Meanwhile, you ran up to Bucky who was taking on a very muscly man in an intense fist fight. You threw three ninja stars at the guy, two at his knees and one towards his elbow that was just pulling back to punch Bucky square on the jaw.
“Thanks,” Bucky breathed out as the man fell to the ground, screaming in pain. You pulled out your ninja stars again, putting them back into the small compartments of your suit to use for another incoming attack.
“You wanna do our thing?” you asked him as you eyed two other men coming up to you, both holding knives that had a sickening green glow surrounding them.
Bucky nodded and bent down a bit as he held out his arms in front of him. Taking a few steps backwards, you prepared yourself as the two men were just close enough.
You took off towards Bucky as fast as you could and leaped onto his hands that were clasped together. He easily boosted you up into the air, high enough that the men couldn’t reach you, but also not too high, ensuring a safe landing.
The two men faltered in their steps a bit as they watched you fly through the air, momentairly distracted by whatever the fuck you were doing, and Bucky used this to throw a punch as hard as he could against the temple of the left guy.
During your time in the air, you had pulled off your necklace and pressed on the little button on the clasp, turning it into a self tightening string you could wrap around the other man’s throat.
The man tried to fend you off with his knife, but once he started getting lightheaded, he fell to the ground, taking you down to the ground with him.
Once he was out cold, you took off the string and rolled off of him. Bucky was now handling two guys at once, and one of them was holding his right hand in a tight grip, an alien looking gun now pressing against his temple.
Something inside you twisted and snapped as you saw Bucky struggle, trying to avoid the dangerous glimmer of the barrel and you took off without thinking.
You threw one of your own knives into the man’s upper arm and the gun immediately fell to the ground. Bucky used his vibranium hand to keep the man in a choke hold, but he missed the way another guy now turned towards your figure.
The man was quick and stealthy, his knife wielding almost as good as yours as you fended off most of his attacks, throwing an intricate flip in your movements once in a while to get him off your track.
After fending him off for a few seconds, there was finally an opening to do a counter-attack and you flipped another knife into his direction, grazing his shoulder.
This only enraged the man even more and he pounced on you, the green glimmer of the knife now dangerously close to your face.
Your fists were hurting from punching them man repeatedly, blood now coating your knuckles like beet red gloves.
The man tried to stab you with the knife, but just in time you had crossed your arms in front of you, hoping your special suit that had a mix of kevlar threads and vibranium would fend off the knife.
The man was so busy trying to get the knife down to your throat, he missed you still were able to use your legs. You kneed him in the groin and he rolled off of you, grabbing his crotch and wailing in pain.
You grabbed the tightening string and wrapped it around his hands and feet, incapacitating him as he tried his best to escape; it was no use though, your string was made of special material that was almost unbreakable.
That’s when the searing pain on your lower arm finally started to seep into your system. It burnt a little, as if it was actively eating away at the flesh and you winced as you checked out your arm.
The man must’ve succeeded in cutting through your suit anyway with his green knife, leaving a gashing wound open that had a green edge to it.
You grit your teeth and cursed at yourself, before looking around the room to check if there were any more bad guys running around.
Bucky just gave another dude an upper-cut with his vibranium hand and Sam had taken down two others, the room now eerily quiet, only the laboured breath of your team still audible after using most of your energy to fight them off.
“You okay?” you directed the question at Bucky, your adrenaline levels dropping after saving him from being held at gunpoint.
It looked as if those were the last ones remaining and you wanted to check out what they had done to their weapons to make the poison so effective, as you heard Bucky calling out your name, his voice louder than you had ever heard before.
The pain came before the realisation that you were hit by something, no, pierced, as you slowly turned your head to check out your right shoulder.
The metal tip of a green glowing spear was just sticking through the flesh, teasing you that for once, you hadn’t anticipated what would happen to you because you were too busy trying to help Bucky and that you should’ve done another check around the building instead of assuming the coast was clear.
The green stuff definitely wasn’t normal earth-like poison, because it made you feel light in the head almost immediately, shivers running over your whole body and breathing through your nose felt like the most constricting thing you ever had to do.
The spear must have been made from vibranium - or something even stronger, because it easily made your hightec Stark suit look like the homemade spandex onesie Peter Parker once wore, fraying the edges and giving no protection.
There was a struggle behind you, probably Steve or Sam taking out the guy who had thrown the spear at you.
Your knees buckled and you fell down hard on your forearms, your body refusing to cooperate as you felt your eyes turn in their sockets. Your whole body felt like it was slowly getting paralyzed, from your shoulder down to your arms and lower body, eventually reaching your feet.
Bucky immediately came up to you, catching your limp body in his arms before you would fall even further, the spear still stuck out of the back of your shoulder, a sore reminder of how you failed the most basic task an assassin had: always do a double check.
It felt like someone had pushed a giant cotton ball in your mouth, your tongue swollen and foam coating the ends of your lips as you just looked in Bucky’s eyes with the most haunting look he had ever seen.
Bucky was shaking your body, trying to keep you conscious, but when your eyes finally rolled back after a minute, he couldn’t help but whimper your name as you didn’t move anymore.
* * *
Bucky and Steve were carrying your limp body into the medical bay at the compound, Natasha and Sam close on their heels, as they watched your body that was like a ragdoll - your limbs were moving with the sway of their steps, head bobbing up and down.
“Banner!” Bucky called out, his voice alarmed and urgent as he felt your pulse under his finger slowing down to an unhealthy pace.
Bruce showed up in his white lab coat, a pen hanging out of his mouth as he was probably trying to find a formula for something.
“What happened?” he immediately asked as Steve and Bucky carefully placed you sideways on the surgery table. They had broken a part of the spear off for easy transportation, but also to keep the pressure on the wound so you wouldn’t bleed out before Bruce could help you.
Bucky moved his hands carefully over your face, trying to move some of the hair that was stuck to your forehead, your face still wet due to the sweat.
“This spear pierced through her suit,” Natasha said, her hand holding onto yours for support, “it’s laced with something definitely not from earth.”
“I’ll have to see if I can make an antidote,” Bruce said as he got a closer look at the angry green wound, “this spear needs to be removed first.”
“I’ll get Cho on board as well,” Sam called out as he ran out of the medical bay.
“Bucky, I’m going to need you to grab a few things for me,” Bruce said as he pulled on some gloves and checked how exactly the spear was lodged into your body.
“Just tell me what to do, Banner,” Bucky’s voice was a steady beat in the med bay, but his eyes betrayed that he was terrified of what was about to happen to you.
* * *
The moment dr. Cho arrived, everything happened in a whirlwind. She focused on healing your shoulder back to the way it was, while Bruce tried to create an antidote that would reverse the effects the poison had on you.
With dr. Cho’s regeneration cradle, it was possible to heal the wound, but for some reason, your shoulder still had a very large angry green mark left that even the machine couldn’t fix.
Even dr. Cho was surprised when you came back out of the cradle. Her machine had always been able to fix everything, but this poison must’ve done something to the components of your skin, it was impossible to repair - even with her advanced technology.
Bucky had stayed in the OR the whole time, even though he trusted Banner and Cho would fix you up just fine, he couldn’t help but be worried that you’d never open your pretty eyes again or tell another crude joke at an entirely inappropriate moment.
The cradle had done its best, but the poison was still coursing through your veins, the green mark glowing a little and giving the rest of your skin an eerie effect. It reminded him a bit of a book he read when he was younger. The green light across the lake that reminded Gatsby he could never have Daisy the way he wanted to. It felt the same for Bucky. Now even more than ever, as you were on the brink of life and death and he could do absolutely nothing about it.
Right now, he was sitting next to your bed, the slow rhythmic beeping of the machine that registered your vitals a steady beat in his ears. The only thing he could do was hold your hand.
Bruce had been working on the antidote for four hours by now, but still no success. Apparently, the chemical compounds the spear was infused with was breaking down your nervous system, though at a very slow speed, on top of being paralyzing and causing small seizures. There was nothing Bruce could do in the meantime - the only option was to find an antidote. A real race against the clock.
Other team members had come and gone, realizing they couldn’t provide anything for you at the moment. Bucky stayed. He talked with dr. Cho when she came in to check on you, about a possible second round of the cradle to fix your nervous system. The bedside nurse gave him an apple juice after five hours of waiting and Natasha brought him a sweater to change into. He hadn’t even noticed he was still wearing the jacket that was smeared with your blood.
It was after nine hours and 38 minutes that Banner stormed into the room, holding a syringe with a blue liquid that he claimed would reverse the effects of the poison. Banner looked absolutely drained, his skin pale and his eyes droopy, but that motherfucker had done it again, proving he was indeed one of the smartest minds on this planet.
Bruce quickly injected the serum and immediately, your heartbeat sped up to a faster, normal rhythm. It sounded like music to Bucky’s ears.
“Now, I don’t know when she’ll wake up, but I do know she’ll be very vulnerable to the poison, if she ever gets attacked again,” Bruce said as he pulled off his gloves and wiped the sweat off his brow.
Bucky’s fist clenched, the whirring sound of his vibranium arm was aggressive almost as he watched your lifeless form lay in the bed.
“Not on my watch.”
* * *
To Bucky’s surprise, it didn’t take long for you to walk around the compound again, another flowy sundress around your body, the green scar present on your shoulder like a tattoo you wanted to show off.
“What are you doing up already?” he questioned as he strode up to you, his hand coming up to rest on your non-injured shoulder as he furrowed his brows, “it’s only been a few days since you woke up.”
“It’s not that bad Bucky, Cho fixed me up real good,” you waved his concerns away as you stepped around him, “and I want breakfast.”
“You almost died,” he said, exasperation clear in his voice as he eyed you rummaging around in the cupboard, looking for your oats, “in my arms, may I add.”
“Almost Bucky, important word,” your voice was muffled as you were searching for some fruit in the fridge to top your oats.
“Hey,” his voice was behind you all of a sudden, a stern edge to it as his hand pressed against the door, his knuckles turning white. You were acting completely different from your usual soft-spoken persona.
“Hey,” you smiled at him, strawberries now in your hand as you closed the fridge door and avoided him once again.
“Stop this,” he snatched the strawberries out of your hands and you pouted, “stop. You can’t just go around the compound ignoring what happened.”
There was a twitch in his jaw as he looked at you, signalling that he really was pissed off at how you were acting.
Everything about you looked like it was fine - freshly washed hair, your perfume invading his nostrils and the sundress was back, but the green scar reminded him of what had happened mere days ago.
“What should I do about it Bucky,” you crossed your arms in front of your frame, a frown now present on your face as you watched him tense up again, “it happened. I’m still here and I saved your ass by the way.”
“Seriously? I was doing fine,” he snapped, his blue eyes angry, like electricity ready to shock you, “you and your saviour complex almost got you killed.”
“Saviour complex,” you choked out a sarcastic laugh, “this sounds like a story about a pot and a kettle, Bucko.”
Bucky just furrowed his brow as his eyes turned to slits when he watched you grab a few strawberries from the container he was holding.
“I’ll explain it to ya,” you clarified as you cut off the stems, your knife like an extension of your hand, “I see the way you look at me.”
Bucky scoffed as he put the strawberries back in the fridge, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
The clinking of the knife against the cutting board was harsh as you chopped another top off, “at the compound. You think I’m like this delicate flower that needs to be protected all the time.
“And during missions, you see me as this whole other-, this whole other person even! Like a badass who doesn’t need help or anything.”
The last cut rang through the kitchen like a bolt of lightning that struck nearby. Your voice was harsh and cold, every word feeling like a punch to his gut - and it hurt even more because it was you who was throwing punches this time around.
“Why can’t you accept that I'm the same person? I can be crude and cold and dark, but I can be light and summer and warm, too.”
“I-uh,” he hesitated, his hands now in his pockets and eyes trained down to the ground. It’s true what you said - every single word. It was difficult to distinguish the colourful compound-you from the dark and mysterious assassin that accompanied him on missions.
“It’s the same thing for you, Bucky,” your voice was softer now, velvety smooth as you saw how his entire form deflated a bit with realization.
For Bucky, when he was at the compound with you, he wanted to cuddle you until your breaths evened out beneath the night sky, to protect you with all his might. It felt like he was the only one who could protect you and your sundresses and freshly baked cookies. It reminded him of his mother and sister, their laughs ringing through the kitchen when they were baking pancakes.
When you were on a mission, you could take care of yourself. Your black suit would whizz past him, accompanied with flying daggers and ninja stars. Bucky didn’t feel like you needed help or protection during those times, because your smirk reminded him that you were a strong person. You were capable of taking down six guys on your own, why would you need him?
The moment you in your dark suit got hurt, something inside his brain short-circuited. It didn’t make sense that your darker, cruder version would ever get hurt - because you had never been hurt before. Sure, there were scratches most of the time, broken bones some of the time, but never anything to this extent. Your body in his arms bleeding out and exposed to a dangerous chemical, the dark suit not protecting you any more than a sundress would. It confused him to no end.
“What do you mean?” his voice sounded small and hurt, his red-rimmed eyes finally connecting to yours.
“You think you’re this awful machine, but that is not the Bucky I know,” you sighed, “when we’re on the roof, and you think I’ve fallen asleep and you whisper those words, I-I heard all of it Bucky.”
“What?” he blinked a few times, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that you were aware of all his ramblings that were supposed to be lost in the cold night wind on the roof of the compound.
“You act like you’re this tough soldier, but I know you’re so much more than that,” you came closer to him, your hands coming up to lightly touch his face, “just like I am not a fragile woman here or an unbeatable assassin on missions.”
His nostrils flared as he tried to suppress his feelings. His gaze avoided yours, it was focussed on the green glowing mark on your shoulder. The green light that would now remind him every moment you could never be his.
“You’re allowed to be soft and happy, Bucky. It’s not a mutually exclusive thing.”
“I just-,” his voice cracked as the green mark glared at him, but when his gaze fixated on your eyes, they were welcoming and clear and had a loving glimmer to them.
“I just don’t know how,” he decided.
“What if- what if we changed our roof visits a bit?” you proposed, your hands now slowly dragging down towards his neck and shoulders, “I know you’ve got some poetry in your little note-book.”
“Ho- how did you know?”
You pursed your lips, a small smile growing on your face, “because you were reciting some? A few weeks ago?
“It was... bewitching, Bucky. Haunting at times. I-I’ve never heard anything like it.”
“You don’t think it’s weird?” His voice was low, a rumble in your ear straight into your chest, making your beating heart grow three times in size as you watched the man before you crumble right in front of you.
“No! No, not at all. I would love to see more of this side of you,” your fingers gripped on the collar of his shirt, “you don’t need to put a mask on for us - for me.”
Bucky let out a shuddery breath as your fingers traced around his collarbone, your eyes still trained on his. He was used to being close to you on the roof - you had cold hands you’d hide inside his coat - but in the daylight it felt like he might collapse on the ground with the way you were looking at him.
The door to the kitchen opened and Sam strode in, a bit sweaty after his morning run and Bucky wanted to step back, his face back to a stoic gaze and go back to his room to mull over his thoughts.
Your fingers were still gripping his shirt, preventing him from leaving, “tonight. You and me, on the roof,” you quietly whispered, a hopeful look on your face.
Before Sam could say anything on the little interaction, you let him go and went back to your strawberries and oats.
“How was your run, Sammy?” you called out as Bucky swiftly disappeared from the kitchen.
* * *
The air was cold on the roof of the compound that night and the darkness was in stark contrast with the rest of the compound.
Bucky had been watching you for a few minutes from a distance as you drank from your water bottle and stared up at the stars, a blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders.
You probably knew he was there, lurking in the shadows, but he appreciated the fact that you’d let him come over on his own tempo.
This whole moment felt off to him. This Bucky had never been a soft one, someone who you’d read poetry with. This Bucky was all steel and guns and knives and dark colours that made blending into the night so much easier.
The sound of his boots alerted you of his presence and you opened the blanket so he could slip under it as well, his body providing enough heat to keep warm during the night.
His left hand had a small notebook clutched, but he carefully put it on the ground and sank into the old couch you asked him to drag up to the roof.
Your hands immediately disappeared inside his coat, the cold leaving goosebumps on his skin as he inhaled deeply, whifs of your perfume surrounding the both of you.
“Hi,” you whispered as you turned your head to look at him. The moon was illuminating his face, showing all the planes and angles, the highs of his cheekbones and the soft blue that made you want to drown in his embrace.
He softly whispered hi back, his minty breath fanning on your face as he looked at what you were wearing.
You weren’t wearing your usual colourful outfit, instead black leggings and a dark blue Stark Industries sweater now clad around your body.
Bucky scraped his throat, his heart beating a little faster as he thought about what he wanted to say to you - confess even.
“I-uh, I want to apologize,” he started, biting on his lower lip, “I shouldn’t have made a version of you inside my head.
“I think- I think I wanted to protect the soft parts of you, whilst also admire the dark parts you show to the outside world, and I- I never wanted to admit you could be both of these at the same time.”
You nodded encouragingly, one of your hands coming up to rest against the side of his face, his scruff tickling the inside of your palm.
“And I guess, I never allowed myself to be more than one thing. More than just a soldier. And- and I really want to show you the parts I never showed before - to anyone,” his voice travelled through the air, soft and husky.
“Thank you, for apologizing and for wanting to open up,” you said. after a beat of silence as your finger traced the lines on his face, “it’s not gonna be easy, Bucky.”
He licked his lips but nodded, the feeling of your finger tracing his skin was mesmerizing, drawing him even more, “I know.”
His voice was rough, but the words were soft and it was the perfect combination of who Bucky really was. Behind closed doors he was gentle and loving. He wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with you under the blankets in his room, your head pressed against his chest as he stroked the soft skin on your back.
He would shake you awake after a nightmare, wanting to be held when his thoughts wouldn’t calm down anymore.
He wanted to show you who he really was.
His right hand came up to cradle your face, his nose now immensely close to yours and your breath hitched in your throat.
Bucky was also like a city personified; his soft touches reminded you of the early morning light kissing your skin, his sarcastic laugh of the walks home after clubbing all night.
You and him were magnets. The soft parts clung to each other as much as the dark parts. Sometimes they’d push each other off, other times they would cling to each other for dear life.
* * *
That night, when he pulled off your Stark Industries sweater and his lips attached to your throat and slowly went down towards your breasts, the green glow of the scar on your shoulder didn’t remind him about how unattainable you were for him.
It reminded him there was something glowing inside of you for him. A feeling that would never dim. You weren’t this elusive character in his life anymore. You’d be there for him when he needed you to be, just as he would be for you.
The green scar wasn’t a far-away lantern across the lake, seducing him and making him falter in his movements. It was the warm glow of life that reminded him you were breakable, just as you were strong. You were alive and you were his - at least in this moment.
And when you shakily sighed as his mouth latched to your throat again, your hands coming up to his face to drag him back to your lips, he couldn’t help but let three words slip out, mumbling against your soft lips he never wanted to leave again.
Baby, you're a vampire. You want blood and I promised. I'm a bad liar with a savior complex. All the skeletons you hide. Show me yours, and I'll show you mine.
- Phoebe Bridgers, Savior complex
Bucky Barnes Masterlist
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Sam and Bucky helping Y/n: You treat an outside wound with rubbing alcohol.
Y/n: And you treat an inside wound with drinking alcohol.
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Terrigenisis (Part 21)
Pairing: Stucky x Inhuman!Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.7K
Summary: After undergoing terrigenisis unwillingly your life is turned upside down when you are deemed too dangerous to return to life as a civilian. You are put with the Avengers team to train and rebuild. As you hone your powers and skills, you must also decide if you can find home and love again. Or is your curse to be a lonely wanderer forever?
Warnings: Fluff, Smut (NSFW 18+)
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Terrigenisis Series Masterlist
You, Steve, and Bucky file into the conference room. Artie turns to greet you and then introduces the pretty redhead by his side.
“This is Molly Fitzgerald. She’ll be planning the wedding.”
“Well, I’ll be helping you plan the wedding,” Molly laughs lightly. “I’ve pulled some ideas together. Mr. Stark has advised me to spare no expense. There was a cancellation at the Plaza for 7 weeks from now, since time is of the essence I secured the venue. It seats 500 so we shouldn’t have a problem with the guest list.”
“No,” you laugh at the absurdity.
“Were you thinking of a smaller, more intimate gathering? 200 or so?” Molly mistakes your meaning.
“No to the Plaza. No to 500 guests. No to 200 guests. 7 weeks is insane.,” you balk.
Molly looks between you and Artie narrowing her eyes. She smirks as she appraises you shrewdly, “I’m going to like working with you. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
You glance at Bucky and Steve who nod at you. They were letting this be your show and had agreed to the few things you had suggested. They had only a few requests and you were more than happy to oblige.
“The wedding will be here at the compound on the back lawn at sunset. The press has dubbed me Artemis and I think we should play it up. She was the goddess of the moon, so a theme of moon and stars for everything. After all, Steve’s symbol is a star and my engagement ring is a star sapphire. Silk tents so we can see the stars. Silver and sapphire blue will be the colors.” You pause to look at Artie and Molly expecting some pushback, but Artie simply smirks, nods at Molly, and exits.
Molly smiles at you, “I love it. Let me show you some options I have. Several designers have expressed interest in designing your wedding gown, but we’ll discuss that when your fiance isn’t in the room.”
“You signed the usual Stark NDA, correct?” you ask Molly.
“Yes, of course. Why?” Molly asks.
“Uh, doll, I think we’ll leave you two to the planning.” Bucky interrupts.
“Right. Don’t want to spoil anything.” Steve smiles.
“You’ll still have to decide on a few things but I’ll narrow it down for you,” you chuckle at their eagerness to escape.
“See ya later, doll,” Steve kisses you quickly.
“Bye,” Bucky says quietly heading towards the door.
“Barnes, she signed the NDA. Get back here,” you grin as he makes his way back to you and kisses you hungrily before leaving.
Once the boys have exited, you notice Molly glancing at you but obviously not wanting to ask the question.
“They’re both my fiancees. Yes, that part of the story is true. The rest of it was bullshit but we’re going through this charade to appease, I don't know, everyone I guess,” you shrug.
“Forget everyone else. Let’s make this what you want it to be. You know, Maggie Sottero might be ideal for designing a gown. If you want to go with a greek goddess style.”
“Yes, all out. I want a tiara of moon and stars and instead of a traditional veil, I want a cape veil.”
“Perfect. Now, when are we having this wedding? I know you said seven weeks is insane but it should be sooner than later.” Molly pulls out a calendar.
“It is, but nine weeks,” you point to a date on the calendar, “That will be one year exactly since I first met them. Doable?”
“An extra two weeks? Absolutely doable.” Molly grins, “Let’s go through the rest and pull some pictures for ideas.”
“Sounds good. I think I’m gonna love working with you, too.”
You wait two days before calling out to Heimdall. You needed Loki to return but you wanted to give him time to complete his mission. Within an hour of calling out, the bifrost drops Loki and Thor on the back lawn where you are exercising Dizzy.
“Loki!” you run to him and throw your arms around him.
“What’s wrong, darling?” Loki embraces you while looking at his brother with a worried expression.
“I… It’s best if I show you.” You guide them both to the conference room where Steve, Bucky, and Tony join you. You play the clip for them and watch Loki’s reaction. The murderous looks that cross his face as he listens to the story are both reassuring and frightening.
“It’s a pack of lies,” Loki seethes. “The only truth in the story is your relationship with them. How dare they bandy about Charlie’s death. This calumny will not stand.”
“Whoa there, Reindeer Games. We’ve got it under control.” Tony holds his hands up.
“I’m so sorry, Loki. I know this isn’t the publicity you need. Or want,” you say quietly.
“Don’t apologize, darling. This was not your doing.” Loki holds a hand up and then looks to his brother.
“What do you need from us? You need only ask.” Thor looks at each of you.
“You left before we saw you the morning after the party, but Bucky and I proposed that night and she accepted,” Steve explains and you hold up your hand to show your ring as he speaks. “The story breaking has accelerated the timeline for the wedding.”
“I see,” says Loki, eyeing you carefully.
“We’d like you to be here for it.” Steve looks between the two.
“Of course,” Thor smiles broadly.
“I’d like you to stand with me, Loki. Be my Man of Honor,” you smile at him.
“What?” Loki, Thor, Tony, Steve, and Bucky say nearly in unison.
You giggle at their confusion, “I want you to be my Man of Honor, please?”
Loki grins and pulls you into a hug, “I would be delighted.”
“Yay! Thank you,” you grab his hand and pull him towards the door. “Come on. I’ll show you some of the plans. See ya later, guys.”
Loki chuckles as he follows you to your room, “Excited, are we?”
“Truthfully, I just wanted to get you alone so I can-”
“Make the rumors about us true?” Loki jokes.
“Haha, no. Did you see her? Did you tell her how you felt? What happened?” your words rush out. Loki’s face falls as you look at him, “Oh, Loki. I, I’m so sorry.”
“I was too late, darling. My own fault. I went to her and I told her the truth. She was angry with me. She had every right to be. Sigyn, that’s her name. Sigyn said I only wanted her now that I couldn’t have her and then she threw me out.”
“I’m so sorry, Loki.”
“It will be fine, darling. She…” Loki falters.
“Tell me the whole story. Please.” you guide him to sit on the couch with you.
“I arrived back in Asgard-”
“No, from the beginning. You only told me you’d known her a long time before. Never how.”
A ghost of a smile appears on his face, “She was a lovely girl who caught my notice one day running through the halls of Asgard. We were eight and she asked me to help her hide from her mother. Of course, I did and that was the beginning of our friendship. We grew up and she morphed from the pretty little girl running through the halls into a beautiful woman. She has similar magical powers to myself, where she differs is her good heart and pristine reputation. Something I’ve never had. She was so dutiful and upstanding when around everyone but she had her wild streak. Or maybe I just brought it out of her. I fell for her. She’s beautiful, smart, funny, and… my friend. I’m her opposite, a mischievous heart with a reputation for exploiting every opportunity. I was undeserving of her and couldn’t think of sullying her by asking her hand. I still think I am unworthy of her. She stood by my side through everything, counseling me, admonishing me even, until I sent her away. Then the fight with my brother and father and my ‘death’ happened. She moved on and got engaged to another. Lucky bastard that he is. I reappeared and disgraced myself on Midgard. I think…”
“You think?” you prompt when he pauses.
“I think your friendship taught me to hope. Maybe I am worthy. Perhaps I could be enough. You seem to only see the good in me. But I was too late for Sigyn. She was right to reject me. I should never have dared to hope.”
You put your hand to Loki’s cheek, “You were right to hope. You were right to tell her. She deserved to know, Loki. Even if she can’t see a future with you, now she can look back upon her past with you and know that you did love her and she was right to be there for you. It may not have been the closure you or she hoped for, but it is some closure.”
“You’re right,” Loki nods sadly. “But, on a happier note, you and your two men are having a fairytale ending.”
“Well, the wedding is only for Steve and I. PR wants to put on a big show to help the narrative move away from my alleged prolific love life,” you roll your eyes.
“Some would say that since everyone already believes it you may as well indulge,” Loki wags an eyebrow at you.
“Loki!” you shout laughingly and shove him away.
“I’m kidding!” Loki raises his hands and chuckles.
“There are some details about the wedding we should go over.”
“Yes, do you want me in this form or should I shift to be the maid of honor?” Loki asks.
“Wait. You can shapeshift?” you ask in surprise.
“Yes. Would you like to see my female form?”
“Uh, yeah!” You exclaim.
“Very well, darling.” Loki’s form shimmers green for a moment and there sitting before you is a gorgeous woman who looks as if she is Loki’s twin sister.
“Wow,” you say under your breath as you study her face and then figure. “So, are you entirely shifted? Like everything is female or is this like the glamour you do with your clothes?”
“I’m entirely female. I could take a lover and produce children if I wanted.” Loki’s female voice has the same beautiful tone, slightly higher pitched.
“You’re beautiful,” you grin.
“Sure you don’t want to indulge?” Loki leans towards you with a smirk.
You look away embarrassed and then your eyes flit back to Loki’s, “I…”
“You what, darling? Tell me,” Loki leans closer.
“Loki,” you lean in, bringing your lips within inches of hers, “I am not gonna indulge you. Ever.” Pushing Loki away, you laugh and scoot away.
“Only with you,” you say with a raised eyebrow.
Loki chuckles and shimmers again as he shifts back to his true form, “What are these details we need to go over?”
“Well, I’m going to need a favor from you.”
“Name it, darling.”
The next few weeks went by with everyone sticking to their general routine with a few missions interspersed. Most of your free time was taken up by Molly with dress fittings and wedding planning. Things were moving along well and Steve agreed with all of your suggestions making things even easier. You hated it. The whole wedding was turning into a spectacular pantomime. The guest list was the most ridiculous part. Neither you, Steve, or Bucky had any living family you knew of, so it stood to reason that the guest list would be fairly small with only close friends in attendance. Unfortunately, most of New York and DC seemed to believe themselves to be entitled to an invitation. The President had even made overtures about attending. The guest list you had originally created of just over 100 guests had already seemed huge to you and now the list had grown to 250 and it didn’t seem as if it would ever stop.
You were exhausted from all of it. You hated how excluded Bucky was from everything. They didn’t even want the two of you making appearances together for the time being in order to keep the rumor mill down. The tabloid had issued a retraction of it’s speculation in regards to Charlie’s death and had reiterated that the allegations of your man eating ways were unconfirmed. Most of the response to the wedding announcement had been extremely positive with only a few black remarks about it being a cover up and some benign online threats made against you for stealing America’s most eligible bachelor.
Finishing yet another meeting with Molly, you were heading to your room to change for a training session with Loki when you were suddenly grabbed around your middle and hauled through the door.
“Bucky! What are you doing?” you gasp as he presses you against the wall with his body and his mouth is on yours hungrily.
“Need you. Need you now. Right now,” he growls as his hands pull the straps of your dress down. You wrap your arms around him in response, putting everything you feel into your kiss. Your dress pools at your feet, your bra is discarded, and Bucky kneels in front of you as he removes your panties. His tongue swipes over your mound and you moan as your head falls back against the wall. Encouraged, Bucky puts one of your legs up and his tongue delves into your folds. Metal fingers press in making you gasp for breath as the pleasure spears through you. Bucky plays to your passions and within minutes you are riding out your orgasm on his tongue. He stands, turns you around, and shoves his pants down to free himself. You feel him line himself up and then press in with measured strokes.
“Okay?” Bucky asks.
“No,” you respond and Bucky stops immediately. Looking over your shoulder, you stare into his eyes as you say, “I need you. Make me feel it, baby. Feel every bit of it.”
Bucky grabs your hands and holds them against the wall as his hips slam forward.
“Fuck, yes!” you cry out as he pumps into you unrelentingly. “Oh, fuck, baby! Don’t stop!”
“That’s my doll. So fucking perfect.” Bucky groans as his thrusts create obscene slapping sounds against your ass.
“Touch me, baby, please. Please touch me!” you beg.
Bucky slides one hand down your body until he finds your clit. Swift circles around it bring you to the edge quickly and you cry out as you clench around him. He pulls out and turns you around, “Get on the bed.”
You go to comply but your feet tangle in your dress and you lose your balance. Bucky attempts to catch you but the pants around his knees trip him and instead you end up on the floor together laughing.
“Forget the bed,” Bucky chuckles while grabbing you and sliding in again. He grabs your hips and you plant your feet to provide leverage. His thrusts are near brutal but you arch into him enjoying the intensity.
“Bucky! Bucky! Oh, fuck!” you shatter again and Bucky follows you. His growl as he comes inside you is feral and sexy and you clench around him.
“Love you, doll,” He whispers as he looks into your eyes. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“Not at all, love. I love you, too. Love you so much, Buck.”
Bucky kisses you, slow and sweet. You understand his need to claim you since everything right now revolves around you and Steve. He was understanding how Steve must have felt in the beginning of your relationship when everyone thought you and Bucky were together and no one knew about Steve.
“Few more weeks, baby. Then this will all be over,” you whisper.
“I can’t wait to marry you.” Bucky whispers.
“You know one of the things I’ve always loved most about you is that you’ve always been so open with me. I mean-”
“Darling, I thought we were meeting in the training room,” Loki speaks as he walks in the room.
“Loki!” you snatch the closest thing to cover yourself while standing. Bucky stands and pushes you behind him to cover you while attempting to pull his pants up.
“Don’t you knock?” Bucky grouses.
“Hm, I see why she’s so enthralled with you, Sergeant Barnes.” Loki smirks as his eyes wander.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes, Loki. Get out!” you yell at the god, peeking over Bucky’s shoulder.
“Take twenty, darling Looks like you two had quite the warm-up session.” Loki chuckles as he exits.
“I’m gonna kill him,” Bucky growls.
“You are not allowed to kill my best friend,” you admonish.
“That’s not how it works,” You grin as you turn Bucky to face you. “Hey, we have twenty minutes. Wanna take a quick shower with me?” You grin, biting your lip as you stare at him.
“Hell, yeah, I do.” Bucky picks you up and kisses you while walking towards the bathroom.
Updates and taglist: Due to the unreliable nature of tags, I no longer keep a taglist. Updates for series are made weekly. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!
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His Saviour 🦹♀️ Civilian!Steve x Superhero!Reader
Summary: You're New York's most beloved superhero, protecting the people from lowlife criminals and danger. One guy in particular seems to always find himself needing to be saved by you, and pretty soon you strike up a flirty friendship with your damsel in distress. If only he knew your true identity, and that you're actually that girl from work that he can't fucking stand.
Content Warning: Superhero!Reader x Civilian!Steve Rogers, Villain!Winter Soldier, canon-typical violence, injury, fluff.
"And the Incredible Starling has done it again! Last night, New York's favorite hero saved a school bus of 25 kids on their way back from a football game after it swerved off a cliff. Not a single injury was sustained, and-"
You turn off the television with an eye-roll, making Bruce throw up his hands. "Hey, I was watching that!" He groans, frowning at you. "What's your problem?"
"Aren't you bored of that stuff?" You ask him. "There's trouble in the city, and then Starling saves the day. It's the same shit every week."
"She's just jealous, Banner," Steve Rogers says with a smug smirk as he walks into the break room, his arms folding across his chest. "Y/N knows that no man she dates will ever find her as hot as he finds the Starling."
"Screw you, Rogers," You spit, glaring at him. "You've never even seen her full face."
"Oops. Did I hit a nerve?" He asks with a faux look of innocence before shrugging. "Don't need to see her face. Have you seen that ass?"
Grimacing, you pick up your coffee and storm past him while uttering, "Pig."
As you leave the break room, you hear his hearty laughs echo after you, making you grit your teeth. Steve Rogers is the fucking worst.
You'd quit your job if it wasn't the only one you could actually hold down, but you have to withstand seeing his annoying face and hearing his insufferable comments for 8 hours every day.
"Got any more leads for me, Y/N?" Mrs. Romanoff asks you as she leans over your desk. "Managed to figure out Starling's secret identity yet?"
"Not yet," You say, knowing full well you'll never be able to give her what she wants.
She groans before rolling her eyes. "So annoying. What does she get out of keeping her real name a secret?"
"Uh, privacy?" You suggest with a shrug. Mrs. Romanoff sighs and storms away, leaving you to work on finishing an article all about Starling's latest save.
Your night job is much more fun.
Fighting crime came naturally to you when your powers kicked in. You always knew there was something different about yourself, and on your 18th birthday, you found out exactly what.
You developed super strength, superfast healing, and your favorite of all: the ability to fly. Enhanced beings are rare all across the world, so you see it as your duty to use your powers for good. Thus, the existence of The Incredible Starling. She fights crime, saves lives, and is cleaning up the streets of New York one lousy criminal at a time.
Tonight is going a little slow. So far, you've saved a cat in a tree and a little kid who was choking on a lollipop. Not exactly the riveting stuff you're used to, but there's always nights like this every now and then. Since your nemesis, the Winter Soldier, disappeared, things have been a little quiet.
Soon, though, you feel that little spark. The tingling sense that someone wrong is afoot.
Shooting up into the air, you fly towards the bad vibe, until you reach an alleyway outside a bar. There's a group of rowdy men yelling, and you realize they're having a fight. There seems to be around 8 of them all ganging up on one guy, which doesn't sit right with you.
"Hey!" You yell from behind them, standing with your hands on your hips. They immediately stop at the sound of your voice and turn around.
One of them snorts, looking you up and down. "Oh no, it's Starshine or whatever the fuck. I'm so scared!" He calls out sarcastically.
"You shouldn't be scared," You tell him, taking a threatening step towards him. "You should be terrified."
Before he can retort with another insult, you fly over and kick him in the chest, sending him backwards. Most of his friends run off, but some of them stay, reckoning they can take you on. You quickly prove them wrong, debilitating them within seconds.
Once they're all groaning in pain on their backs, you make your way over to the poor guy they were all beating on. He's sitting against a wall, his eyes wide with awe as he stares you down. His lip is bleeding and one of his eyes are swelling up and holy fuck is that Steve from work?
Ignoring the desire to beat him up, too, you hold out your hand to him. "You okay?" You ask, treating him as politely as you treat the other civilians. You aren't Y/N right now. You're Starling. And you have an image to upkeep.
"I'm great," He says weakly, taking your hand and getting up to his feet. "And you- you're Starling."
"That, I am," You confirm with a laugh, wondering whether he'll compliment you on your ass or do something else to reinforce how pig-headed he is.
"Thank you for saving me," Steve says, an earnest look on his face. You've never heard him speak so softly, and you've definitely never seen him smile so kindly, and it makes you feel like you're in some weird alternate universe.
"That's my job," You tell him, patting his shoulder. "Want a lift home?" You're not giving him any special treatment; you offer all the civilians you save a ride home after you've done the saving, seeing as a nice flight typically cheers them up after what is usually a traumatic experience.
"Absolutely," Steve breathes out, the corner of his mouth quirking up.
You let him climb onto your back before you jump off the ground and shoot off into the night sky, hearing him whooping in your ear. It's impossible to hold back your laughs at his excitement, and you purposely do a few unnecessary loops and turns to pull out his gasps.
After a few minutes, you land on his balcony, and he laughs with delight before frowning. "Wait- how did you know where I live?"
Fuck. You can't exactly say you remember it from the work get-together he held at his place last year. "Uh... I'm Starling!" You say, holding up your hands. "I have a sixth sense about that sort of thing."
"Wow," He breathes out, his chest heaving. "That was incredible- you are incredible, Starling."
It feels weird to be hearing something other than an insult from his mouth being directed to you, but you gladly accept it. "No problem, Steve." Shit.
His eyes widen. "How do you know my-" He stops midway before grinning. "Ahhh, that sixth sense again, right?"
You nod quickly. "Right. Well, good night, Steve."
"You're gonna leave already?" He asks with a slight pout, the light in his eyes dying a little.
You cannot stay. It's Steve fucking Rogers; the man who makes your life a living hell. "Yep. More people to save. Bye!"
With that, you fly away, not giving him a chance to get another word in.
The next day, you're expecting there to be a huge fanfare at work. You can see it now: Steve surrounded by all your coworkers, telling them all about how Starling saved his life and how her ass looks even better in person. He has probably already written a front-page article all about it, embellished to make himself look a lot better, of course.
But when you walk into the office, there's nothing special going on. There's no crowd around Steve's desk, no hubbub amongst the others about how Starling saved one of their own. He's sitting there, typing on his laptop, his face blank as though it's just another day.
You can't help but approach him, curiosity getting the best of you. "What happened to your face, Rogers?" You ask, smirking slyly at him as you take in his black eye and bust lip. "Finally got what you deserve, I see."
He rolls his eyes and looks up from his laptop at you. "If you must know, I got into a bar fight."
"Wow," You drag out with a laugh. "You macho man, you. Let me guess; I should see the other guy?"
"Actually, yes," Steve counters sternly. "And if you don't get out of my personal space soon, I'll show you exactly what happened to him."
You're surprised he hasn't mentioned Starling, and you're not sure how to feel about it. "Is that a physical threat, Mr. Rogers?" You ask him with a gasp, placing a hand on your chest. "Am I going to have to report you to HR? You know Tobey won't be happy with you - it would be your second strike."
"Fuck off," He groans, leaning back in his chair. "I've had enough of your face and grating voice for the rest of the week. Bye, now."
Fucking ungrateful piece of shit. Should've left him to be beaten up a little more.
Carnivals are supposed to be fun. Rides, junk food, and rigged booth games. For you, though, the carnival weekend only means stress and responsibility.
The Chief of Police personally hired you to keep an eye out for danger today, and you could do with the extra cash. Seeing as the rest of the NYPD see you as a no-good vigilante who needs to be detained, your work with Fury remains a secret. Good thing keeping secrets is your forte.
The carnival goes relatively smoothly for the most part, until that little spark goes off and you feel a bad vibe stronger than you've felt in a while.
Suddenly, while you're strolling through the crowds in your civilian clothes, a blood-curdling scream sounds out from behind you. You immediately run in that direction, sneaking behind the booths to rip off your shirt and jeans, revealing your suit. Taking off your hat, you pull out your mask and slip it on, before reaching the source of the panic.
When you see him, your heart stops.
It can't be.
"Winter Soldier!" You yell, infuriated.
He's pummeling through the vendors and destroying their booths, which explains all the screaming. You zoom over to him, pulling back your first before landing it straight onto his face. He flies backwards, crashing to the ground and rolling around.
"I should've known you'd be back," You grumble as the swarms of people run away, screaming for their lives before you continue. "Like clockwork, you can't help but be an annoying pain in my fucking ass."
He gets back up to his feet, and you notice that his metal arm looks much more advanced - and a fuck-ton scarier - since the last time you saw it. Shit. This could be bad.
"Hello, Star-Thing," He greets you coldly, his blue eyes the only thing making him look remotely human. His mask covers the bottom half of his face, but you can hear his words clearly. "Ready to die?"
Without any hesitation, you rush over to him and engage him in combat. Admittedly, the arm has always scared you, but you do well to keep yourself collected and in control.
You lift your leg up to kick him but he grabs it and pulls you forward, causing you to fall onto him. He then sends you straight to the ground and your grip on his shoulders pulls him right down with you.
"Give up," You say with a strained voice, kicking his torso repeatedly.
He tilts his head and you see a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I'm the one on top of you."
With a deep breath, you hit his shoulder and push him over onto his back, before punching his face repeatedly. "Not anymore, bitch!"
After roughing each other up some more, you feel him attempting to rip off your mask. Motivated by your need to keep your identity a secret, you fight harder, relishing in his grunts and groans of pain.
"Your tin arm is no match for my natural strength," You say arrogantly, hoping none of the civilians can hear you seeing as it doesn't really fit into your friendly personality to be so egoistic. "Tell me, Soldier; what lab were you created in?"
"Fuck you!" He spits weakly, kicking you in the chest and sending you falling into a stall. Pressing a button on his metal arm, the Winter Soldier stumbles backwards before a black motorbike zooms through the crowds and parks up right next to him. He shoots you a wink and clambers onto it. "Until next time, Star-Thing." With that, he drives away, speeding through the carnival with no concern for the pedestrians.
You jump to your feet and are about to fly after him, when you hear the weak cries of some people trapped under the debris of a stall the Soldier destroyed. Rushing over, you lift up a wooden pillar, resting it on your back while allowing the civilians to escape. "Everyone good?" You ask through heavy breaths, scanning them all up and down. "Anyone hurt?"
Just as you drop the wooden pillar back to the ground when the last person crawls out, you hear a weak groan from behind you. The booth that you were thrown into has crumbled to the ground, and you're horrified to see an arm sticking out.
You rip up the pieces desperately, hoping they're not badly hurt seeing as it was your body crashing into it that caused the booth to collapse. The groans become clearer and you finally see a head. You place your hands under the man's arms and pull him out while he whimpers.
"Shit," You whisper, getting onto your knees beside him. "Are you alright, Sir?"
"My arm," He whimpers. "I think it's broken."
Cursing under your breath, you brush his hair out of his face- only to recognize him immediately.
"Steve?" You ask with disbelief. What are the fucking chances?
"Starling?" He responds quietly, a weak smile on his lips. "We gotta stop meeting like this, baby."
Ignoring the butterflies the stupid pet name gives you, you take him into your arms before flying up and towards his apartment. Yes, Fury will be pissed at you for leaving without debriefing him, but he can wait.
"What a coincidence, huh?" Steve said with a laugh as you lay him down on his couch. "I don't think you've ever saved anyone else twice."
With a raised brow, you smirk down at him. "Yeah? And how would you know that?"
He gives you a sheepish look. "It's sort of my job to know. Steve Rogers; journalist for the Daily Bugle. But I swear, I'm not one of the ones that try and make you out to be a bad guy."
Chuckling, you get down on your knees beside him and pay his shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Mr. Rogers. The Bugle is usually pretty nice to me, compared to some of the other papers in this city."
He winces again, reminding you of his injury. Immediately, you rip the sleeve of his shirt open, your heart skipping a beat when you see his tense bicep. Since when was he so fucking ripped?
"I think I should take you to the hospital," You comment. "Just to be sure. I can't really tell what your injury is just from looking... or feeling."
"No, please," He whines. "I hate hospitals. I don't think it's broken; I was just being dramatic."
You narrow your eyes at him. "Are you just saying that to get out of seeing a doctor?"
Shaking his head adamantly, he stretches out his arm. "See? I'm fine. Just a little bruised. Nothing a kiss wouldn't make better."
Almost choking at his words, you get back up to your feet. "Noted. I'll send someone over."
"Kidding," He says softly, chuckling, before looking up at you. "Doesn't it get hot, wearing a mask all the time?"
Truthfully, you don't even notice it anymore. It only covers the top half of your face, so you can breathe just fine. "I guess my cheeks get a little heated," You say with a shrug. "Usually, I'm too focused on the bad guy to notice."
Steve sits up slowly, his eyes widening. "That- that was the Winter Soldier, wasn't it? He's back."
With a regretful sigh, you sit next to him and nod. "Yes, it was." You're not sure why you're still here, but you're enjoying Steve's presence. It's eons different to how he acts at work with the real you, and he's admittedly a pleasant person to be around when he isn't hurtling insults at you.
"What are you gonna do?" He asks with concern. "Last time, he swore he was going to kill the mayor."
"I assure you; Mayor Stark will be just fine," You insist. "I'm gonna do what I do best. Protect New York."
A smile grows on Steve's lips as he stares at you with adoration. "You're, like, incredible."
Is he leaning in? Fuck, he's leaning in.
Aaaaaaand that's your cue.
"Well, I should get going," You say quickly, standing up. "I'm glad you're okay, Steve. But please; stop getting yourself into trouble!"
He grins and stands up too, towering over you. "If it means you're there to save me, I'll get in trouble every day."
Pointing a finger at him, you slowly start walking backwards. "That better be a joke, Sir. Bye, now!"
Work the next day is hectic. Everyone's rushing to get the best pictures and coverage from the carnival disaster yesterday, while you've decided to do an article on the stock market instead.
When your phone rings, you hold in your grimace. "What is it, Fury?" You ask, looking around to make sure nobody is in earshot.
"We have a problem," He tells you in a panic. "The Mayor wants to meet you. Not just Starling; you."
"What?" You hiss, your eyes narrowing. "What the fuck does that mean?"
"Stark thinks he should be privy to your true identity," Fury goes on to say. "As the mayor, he believes it's his right."
"Well, did you tell him that I don't compromise my identity for anyone?" You ask, a deep frown on your forehead. "Not even the President thought herself to have the right to know my true identity. If I can sit in the Oval Office suited up, why the fuck can't I do the same in Stark's tacky lounge?"
"Calm down," Fury insists, making you roll your eyes before he continues. "I told him you'd be open to a dinner-"
"But you can keep your mask and suit on. I just thought I'd give you a heads up. I didn't want you to be surprised if he asks you to take the mask off."
"Fuck's sake, Fury," You grumble, rubbing your face. "When's this dinner happening?"
He clears his throat before answering you. "In about 6 hours."
You are pissed. You knew you shouldn't have agreed to work alongside a police officer, and now you're being forced to go to stupid dinners with stupid men. Of course, working with Fury has its benefits - he keeps you in the loop in the NYPD's plans for city security and offers you good money when he wants you to attend events or act as extra patrol.
Tony Stark is an appalling showman, and an even worse mayor.
"It's such an honor to have you in my home, Starling!" He exclaims warmly, leading you through the large corridors and into the main room, where the rest of the dinner guests await. You recognize a few political faces as well as Fury, who sips a whiskey with his eyes trained on you.
"Thank you for having me," You reply politely, having to upkeep your girl-next-door reputation no matter how much you want to just grab that bottle of expensive-looking bourbon from the bar and chug it down.
"There's someone I'd like for you to meet," Tony tells you with a proud smile, wrapping his arm around a handsome brunette and pulling him closer. "This is my son; Bucky."
His eyes are the first thing you notice. Blue as the sky, they're bright and familiar, though you peg your recognition of them to the fact that you've met thousands of civilians and it's likely that you've come across the same shade of blue once or twice before.
Bucky looks you up and down with awe in his eyes. "Wow. It's really you."
His voice is the second thing that throws you for a loop. Though calm and friendly, it gives you a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. Putting it down to nerves because of how aesthetically pleasing he is, you ignore your gut and plaster on a smile. "It's lovely to meet you, Bucky."
"Well, I'll let you two kids get acquainted," Tony says, clapping his hands together. "I need to go check on dinner."
Once he's gone, Bucky grins at you. "It really is amazing that you're here," He reiterates, before his eyes widen when he notices someone behind you. He quickly pulls on their arm and pulls them closer, and you almost gasp when you recognize him. "This is my best friend, Steve."
You and Steve share a long look, a sheepish smile on his lips as his cheeks tinge pink.
"When he heard about the dinner Dad was throwing for you, he begged me to let him come," Bucky tells you coyly. "Begged me."
"Shut it," Steve grumbles, playfully hitting his chest before giving you a bright beam. "Great to see you again, Starling - and I'm not a stalker or anything, I swear."
With a laugh, you place a hand on his bicep. "Don't worry about it, Steve. I'm happy to see you again."
You don't miss the way Bucky teasingly nudges Steve's stomach, while Steve himself looks bashfully to the ground. You're not used to him being so shy and cute and-
Wait. Cute? This is the guy that would happily piss in your coffee if he had the opportunity. Get a grip.
"Would you like a tour of the house?" Bucky offers brightly, before slyly adding, "Get away from all the old guys for a bit?"
"Absolutely," You agree, letting him and Steve lead you out of the lounge.
Bucky explains the origins of some paintings on the wall while you half-listen, trying your best to figure out where you've heard that damn voice before.
Once you reach the large library, you can't hold it in any longer. "Have we met before?" You ask him, narrowing your eyes at him.
He looks taken aback by your question, before chucking. "Uh, no, I don't think so. You meet many one-armed brunettes in the city?"
One-armed? Glancing down, you see that the left arm of his jacket is covering nothing; there is no hand peeking through the cuff. "Wow- how did you- actually, I'm being intrusive, I apologize," You change your mind, shaking your head.
Steve has picked up a book and is flicking through it, and you find yourself wondering what he enjoys reading, and what he'd sound like reading out to you.
Get a fucking grip.
"No, it's fine," Bucky insists with a warm smile. "I served in the army and sustained a pretty gnarly injury. Ended up having to get the entire thing amputated."
You wince at his words, but attempt to hide the second-hand pain from your face. "Wow. That is... that is something."
He grins, "The lack of an arm gets me more girls than having two ever did, so it has its benefits."
Steve snorts from behind Bucky, shaking his head. "Idiot."
You can't help but get a niggling feeling of suspicion in your head, but you do well to ignore it. His eyes, his voice, the arm...
No. There's no way.
"Well, Dad'll go ballistic if we're late for the appetizers," Bucky says with a playful eye-roll before patting your shoulder. "Come along, Star-Thing."
The breath is stolen from your lungs. Your eyes are wide and unblinking as he casually walks past you, leaving you frozen. Steve offers you a small smile, but you can't find it in you to reciprocate it.
Holy fuck. The Mayor's son is the Winter fucking Soldier.
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Absolution // Bucky Barnes
So, I hit 100 followers! This is a little cringey but that’s a big deal to me, considering I sort of jumped on Tumblr as a joke just to put some of my writing out there. Anyway, thank you all for reading and following and AHHHHH. This is kind of a 100 Follower Special I guess... Enjoy!!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 1326
Warnings: Hallucinations (?) of blood. Mention and vague description of panic attacks. Angst. This is just pretty sad, not gonna lie.
Summary: After all these years, James Buchanan Barnes finally falls apart.
James Buchanan Barnes did not believe in absolution; he didn’t believe in many things at all. And he felt that he deserved every single terrible thing that had happened to him, simply because he hadn’t been strong enough to overcome it. And despite the desire to wash his hands of his past, blood stained his palms, leaving crimson smears wherever he went.
So he started wearing gloves; soft, leather ones that Steve had gifted him a few years ago that had sat in the back of his closet until one evening in May, when he finally fell apart completely. There was a hole in his bedroom wall that was a constant reminder of his weakness, but he’d since covered it with a generic canvas he’d bought for a few dollars from a garage sale.
If there was one thing that Bucky was good at, it was hiding his sorrow, his pain, and his fear. His fear of himself. His fear of never being remembered as anything but a killer.
Steve, Sam, and even Tony, had tried to pull him away from the path of self-destruction he was slowly heading towards, but it was no use. And yet, these people were still his companions, friends even, and he felt that he owed them something.
That’s how he ended up in the elevator at the Compound, adjusting his gloves until they sat right, tucked neatly under the sleeves of his jacket. The doors slid open before he reached the floor he’d selected, and he saw you there, fiddling with the dainty bracelets on your wrists.
“Oh, hey,” you said as you stepped into the elevator. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”
“I wasn’t planning to, but Steve kept nagging until I gave in.” The smile that crossed his lips was easy, almost natural. Faking them had become effortless.
You smiled in response, not missing the emptiness in his eyes, but you kept your mouth shut as the doors slid open once more. Bucky stepped out immediately, disappearing into the crowd of snobby people in suits faster than you could blink. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you exited the elevator and searched desperately for a familiar face.
When you spotted Bruce hovering in a corner, you almost let out an audible sigh. He was clutching a glass in his hands, running his finger around the rim absentmindedly, but he perked up when he saw you.
“Look who decided to show up,” he said, smiling widely.
“It was a spur of the moment decision, I could hear the chatter and excitement from my room and I just had to see what all the fuss was about.” Every word was dripping with sarcasm. Casting a glance around the crowded room, you almost rolled your eyes. You recognised a few of them, but the others must be some random business people that Tony knows.
“Can we get some, like, music playing or something?”
Later that night, music had finally begun to play. Some people were swaying as they spoke to one another, but other than that, it was about as exciting as watching grass grow. You’d whispered as much to Bruce, who had since disappeared somewhere, and had been roped into a conversation about just how fascinating grass-growing actually was.
It was nearing midnight and you were heavily contemplating going back down to your room and hopping into bed, when somebody hurried past you, shoulder whacking against yours. Turning, you watched the person retreat through a door on the other side of the room, knowing it led out into the hall. It took you a moment, but you recognised the jacket, and the gloves. Glancing back towards where Bucky came from, you spot Steve across the room, shaking his head and muttering to himself.
Brows furrowed, you twisted the bracelets around your wrist. Once. Twice. Three times. Then you set off towards the door that Bucky disappeared through. Windows line one side of the hall, opening out onto a view of the grounds and the city skyline on the horizon. In the darkness, the lights of the city are like a smattering of stars. Along the other side of the hall, in evenly-spaced intervals, were doors. A few were conference rooms where you’d talked over mission reports with Steve, Tony and Rhodey numerous times, while the others held complete unknowns.
So, starting from the very beginning, you poked your head into each room.
“Buck?” You whispered into the darkness, never getting a response. When you reached the final door, you tested the handle and found it locked. Puzzled, you knocked softly.
Nobody came to the door, but you could hear harsh muttering from within, muffled by the wood of the door. Get it off. Get it off.
Before you could stop yourself, you summoned a sliver of your power, pressing your hand to the brass knob. Closing your eyes, you let your power flow through your fingertips, slowly undoing the lock mechanism. With a click, the door swung open.
Your gaze immediately found him in the dimly-lit room. The headstrong soldier, reduced to a quivering mess, his back against the wall across from you, staring wide-eyed and terrified at his hands.
“Bucky, what’s wrong?” You crossed the room, dropping down to your knees before him. He didn’t respond, too lost in his panic that he couldn’t see or hear anything, save for the blood on his hands.
Bucky couldn’t stop the hammering of his heart against his tightening rib cage. He stared down at his gloves, the leather glistening, coated in red. So much red. The metallic scent of blood forced itself upon him; gagging, he tried to blink away the tears that had begun to well in his eyes.
“Get it off. Get it off. Get it off.” He chanted, getting louder and louder each time around.
His name was far-off, almost as though he was hearing it from underwater.
“Bucky, there’s nothing there.”
Closer now. He could almost picture the owner of the voice. He knew her, he was sure of it. But he was so lost, he couldn’t find her. He couldn’t see anything except red.
Hands slipped into his own; dainty and warm, and he paused. He could see you now, kneeling before him, eyes wide and full of panic.
“Please,” he whimpered. “Get it off.”
You glanced down at his hands, momentarily confused, but tugged the gloves off regardless. You pressed his hands together, wrapping your own around them, and hugged them to your chest.
Bucky could feel your heartbeat and it slowly pulled him back down from his panicked high. Tears flowed freely, dripping onto the leather of his jacket with soft plinks. He leaned forward, defeated, collapsing into you. His head nestled in the crook of your neck, whole body shaking with the force of his sobs, you couldn’t stop as your own eyes began to sting.
“You’re okay,” you whispered, running a hand through his hair. Bucky sobbed harder.
“What’s wrong with me?” He choked on his words, trying and failing to steady his breathing.
“Nothing is wrong with you.”
You’d never spoken truer words. This was the result of all of Bucky’s pain that he’d tried so hard to hide, to push away, finally catching up to him. And as he crumbled, falling apart completely, he laid his soul bare for you to see. Millions of shattered pieces sewn into the tapestry of his subconscious. Broken. A boy; dealt an unfair hand from the start. A soldier; just wanting to prove himself. A man; blaming himself as though what he was forced to do was his fault.
“Please don’t leave me,” he whispered against the skin of your neck.
Pulling him tighter, you fought the urge to scream, to lose control, to break anyone who took part in the shattering of the man in your arms. Instead, you pulled away, only to press your forehead against his.
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Nothing to Despair | 20. In the reflected sky
PAIRING: Soft!Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader
SYNOPSIS: Bucky and a girl he never met before have to go undercover as married on a mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, while she goes through life alone and abandoned. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily convinced.
CHAPTER NOTES: More angst, more smut. Assisted masturbation, creampie, slightly painful sex, sweet dirty talk (from reader) and generally the softest soft-domme!reader ever to be written, reconciliation, jealousy. Also, we get more insight into reader’s thinking and there’s a lot of sadness and dark thoughts.
Thank you for all your lovely comments! Beta-read by @offcast-plus1 <3
WORD COUNT: 6.2k
⸻ [MASTERLIST] [AO3] [TAGLIST]
I was the shadow of the waxwing slain
By the false azure in the windowpane;
I was the smudge of ashen fluff - and I
Lived on, flew on, in the reflected sky.
— Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire
He barely managed to get her back in bed, but she was too tired to fight and too sore to run away. Even Bucky had a hard time getting up, managing to wipe down her thighs and wash up a bit before curling back behind her. It was a while, an hour maybe, before she spoke again, to ask:
"What's the point of it?"
"It's a way to get closer to you," he whispered, pressing his lips to her shoulder blade. "Like kissing you. And holding you. And talking to you. And seeing you. That's why you like to be alone, isn't it?" She wasn't speaking or moving but he felt her pause, as if in thought, and then her head turned slightly in a mute question. "If people can't get close they can't hurt you. Is that it, doll?" The girl frowned and turned away again, letting her head sink back to the pillow. "I'll let you in on something: people don't have to be close to you to hurt you."
"If they do it from a distance, at least that's not your fault," she muttered.
"Alright. Why don't you stop talking around it and just tell me what's been bothering you?"
"You. You're bothering me."
Bucky sighed through his teeth and leaned over, grabbing her chin. "You know what I mean."
"It's none of your business," she hissed, throwing him a sharp glare, small and curled up as she was.
"You're my wife now, it is my business."
She instantly regretted saying anything and decided then and there to never do it again. Like every other needy person, he took everything, anything she said, and used it against her.
"Is it so hard to trust me that you won't even try?" he asked with a firmer grip. "You think you've come across worse people than I have? Even without counting Hydra, or SHIELD for that matter. Whatever kind of double-cross you want, I've had it," Bucky rasped, then with half a hesitation added "including from you."
He regretted saying it before it was even out, but searching her face he saw no changes. She kept the same frown and clenched jaw, looking neither hurt nor moved by what he said. She either didn't feel guilty, or wasn't sorry, and though he didn't apologise he softened anyway, hand moving backward to caress her cheek and brush the hair over her ear. Bucky sighed and pulled her back down, with himself slotted behind her again.
"I want to take everything you've got, doll, good and bad. And I want to give you everything I've got, good and bad… That's what marriage is supposed to be," he said as he started running his fingers on the surface of her arm. "Let me help you carry the bad stuff, sweetheart." But she kept quiet. "If nothing else, at least as a friend?" he tried. She didn't even move, except to clench her jaw tighter. "I don't like knowing you're like this, doll. I hate seeing you unhappy."
She could think of a hundred things to tell him; that she was happy before, that she'd be happy without him, that nobody could be happy for very long anyway, and that he should probably worry more about himself as he was the lonely and pathetic one.
They skipped out on lunch and stayed in bed together. Bucky held her tightly, caressing her now and then, kissing the back of her head, her neck, her shoulder… in the moments of pause between thinking of how he could use what he'd been through to help her. Thinking back to some books his doctor had him read, some strategies he was forced to go through in his therapy, thinking for the first time seriously about what, really, had led him to trust people again, and imagining, at the end of all of it, her loving him back.
She, with her back to him, stared out toward the window at the roiling sea, imagining what it would feel like to jump.
They washed up and dressed for dinner early. Bucky took them to the place she liked best — incidentally the most elegant and expensive — and it was quiet and selective enough for them to speak even in whispers, if they wanted, but she didn't have much to say. Neither of them had had a bite to eat since breakfast, but dinner was difficult for her. She ordered a bowl of soup and spent most of the time just running the spoon over its surface. And he hadn't missed how stiffly she walked, how delicately she sat down — most probably bruised a little bit.
Bucky finished his dinner and spent the rest of the time nursing a glass of whisky. He rested his elbow on the low wall of their booth and braced his temple against a gloved metal index, fingers moving across his lips absentmindedly as he watched her play with her cold food. He didn't want it to be like that, but he couldn't stand it anymore, couldn't keep waiting… however much he'd wanted to. Bucky meant what he said when he said it, during their dance at the hotel: that he would be there for her whenever she was ready. But faced with what that actually meant, he couldn't do it, he couldn't wait. He wanted her, so badly, and now.
"What are you thinking?" he asked in a low voice.
She was probably thinking that if he'd broken that promise, what else was he willing to break? If she'd been right about him once, what else was she right about? Bucky had hoped he was done with putting his own dark thoughts in other people's heads, fearing what they thought, wondering, guessing — which, as his therapist went to great lengths to explain, would always be worse than the reality. 'Course, his therapist had never met his little wife…
"Would it help to say I'm sorry?"
"I'm sorry anyway."
"You're not sorry that you did it," she bit back. "You're sorry of the consequences."
"Guess you're right," he sighed. "I'm sorry that you're hurting, doll…"
She looked up just once and melted his cold eyes with one sidelong stare. "You should've thought about that before."
Bucky clenched his jaw and took a breath. "I'll be more careful next time, alright?" he whispered, but she just cringed and looked back down. Next time…
"I want to go for a walk."
"Eat your dinner first."
They did take a long, sprinkled stroll on the deck afterward. She said the cold made her feel better, and walking helped too, so he couldn't complain. By the time they went back down to their cabin, it was late at night. The ship was normally pretty quiet, but it was quieter now than ever, the people around them all asleep. They stepped lightly through their suite and turned on just a couple of lamps, diffuse golden pools decorating the place against a backdrop of shadowed corners and a chorus of wisping sea. Bucky took off just his shirt before he stopped to watch her. She'd already undone her hair and it fell around her shoulders in that way he liked so much. She took her blouse off, then her skirt off gently, and sat down — on her own bed this time, which he didn't like. Before she got to do anything else, he was kneeling on one leg before her. She gasped as his hands gripped her calves, but soon returned to her stoic nature.
"Get up, Bucky," she sighed.
He brought her ankles together in his lap and massaged them slowly, keeping his eyes on hers. "Can I ask you something?"
"Can I say no?"
"You can," he smiled.
She pursed her lips, but finally said "Go ahead, ask. I'm curious now."
"Do you think I like hurting you?"
It took her a second to think it through before she answered. "I think you don't care, either way."
"Maybe I don't care as much as I should, but I do care," he said as he worked his hands slowly higher. "Do you like hurting me?"
"You are not exactly hurting," she narrowed her eyes. He kept watching as if she said nothing, caressing her legs lightly. "You're not being hurt, Bucky." He reached all the way to her hips, still waiting for an honest answer. "No," she sighed, "it doesn't make me happy."
"So what would make you happy?"
"And don't say letting you go, because that's not going to happen."
"That's not going to happen," he gritted out. "So, what would make you happy?"
She closed her mouth and looked at the space between them, finally considering his question seriously. "I need to think about it," she eventually said.
Bucky nodded and even smiled a little, his large grey eyes crinkling kindly, tired. His hands were now at the garter belt, playing with the suspenders, and he started to undo them one by one, peeling them carefully away from the edge of the stockings. There was a heat back in his eyes. His big rough hand, even the metal fingers, were deft with the little clasps, and it can't have been just from watching her put them on and off so many times.
"You're surprisingly good at that," she remarked in an icy tone as he rolled one stocking down.
"Am I?" he smirked.
"Perhaps not so surprising," she said, right before she kicked him in the chest. He fell back down more out of shock than anything, and then dared to laugh.
"Dollface, what did I do?" he asked from his sprawl.
"I can undress myself," she muttered, walking around him toward the living room. Before she was through the doorway, he had his arms around her waist and pulled her back in. "This isn't helping me do that thinking we just talked about," she growled as she clawed at his arms.
Bucky walked them backwards to his bed, rubbing his face into her hair and moaning at the scent. "Sweetheart… I can't believe you right now," he smiled. "You're not jealous, are you?"
"Over a mouth breathing mountain of manure like you? Never."
"Ouch," he chuckled. "You know the women you're jealous of are all dead, right?"
"Oh, is that so?" she giggled bitterly, and half-way turned around in his arms just to catch a glimpse of his face as she said "So I suppose it doesn't matter what Hamelin and I did before you found us."
His grin turned to a grimace and instantly he raised a hand to hold her chin. "Nothing happened between the two of you," he said with all amusement gone.
"Yes. But it's worth saying it to see how your face fell," she smirked. "And he's dead anyway, so it doesn't matter, right?"
He heaved a breath and shook his head. "That isn't fair, it's… That's different."
She tilted her head back, out of his grip, and smiled sadly. "You're right about that."
His hold was loose enough now that she stepped out of it. She sat back down on the bed and removed the other stocking while Bucky looked at her, still a little angry. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, hands on his hips, looking like he could fill half the room with his breadth and outrage.
What wasn't fair? That he'd won her? Would she really prefer that slimy, slippery snake to him? Weaker, smaller, unremarkable, who didn't know her, who could never give her half of what he could, whose mission it was to basically throw her away, who could never protect her or make her happy. A middling agent compared to him, Martin had been no match for Bucky, and Hamelin was no match for The Fist of Hydra, the Winter Soldier — was that it? Was that what she wanted? Was he just too soft? Was that why she preferred the metal arm?
And what did she mean, then, by 'different'? Bucky knew what he meant: his past girls were never a threat to her, they were long gone and he wasn't pining after any of them, so what was she worried about? Meanwhile, Hamelin — or rather, Martin — not only had the chance to take her away but was actually supposed to, and relatively recently too. Just because he was dead, buried, and decraniated, didn't make it any better.
"I meant exactly what you meant," she said evenly, then turned her dour face up to him and sighed. "I want get cleaned up and go to bed."
Her bare feet were braced on the floor, her hands braced on the edge of the bed, and she sat right in front of him in her lacy red slip, one strap off the shoulder, and… asked to go to bed with him. His rational mind said 'no, they weren't done talking', but his body said:
"Yeah, er… sure, g-go right ahead, honey."
Of course, he didn't know that she'd cheat.
Turning in bed sometime in the night, Bucky expected to wrap his arm around her but instead felt nothing, his hand falling as if through space. Feeling around, the bed was empty and cold. He raised himself up slightly on his arms to look around — her own bed, in front of him, was empty. Looking toward the door, there was no light on in the living room. He looked over his shoulder and finally spotted her: she was sitting by the windowsill, inside of its little alcove, crouched and on her back. Her feet were on the wall of it, her knees cuddled to her chest as she rested her forehead against the window, and looked out at the sky.
As soon as she heard him shift around in bed, she winced and tensed up. Oh no, here it comes. Turning her head and meeting his eyes, she reflexively straightened, sitting a bit higher. He's going to come over, she thought to herself. But he just turned and stretched toward the bed table, grabbing the watch to see the time. It must've been around 4 AM.
"You ok?" he asked through the gruff of sleep as he leaned forward on one elbow.
"Yes," she said, and cringed at the lameness of her own reply.
She'd been enjoying her time alone, at least a little bit. She just wanted to sit by the window and look at constellations again, even if these ones were completely different. But now he was awake and he'd caught her and he was definitely going to come and ask some stupid questions… But he just sighed and stayed mercifully where he was. Even through the dark and distance, Bucky saw the way she looked at him: legs tight, feet bent at the ankles and pointing toward the window, her face half-turned away while she watched him through the corner of her eyes. One didn't need to be a trained assassin to understand. So against his every instinct, he laid back down and turned around so that at least he couldn't see her — nor she him — and pretended to go back to sleep.
She was as surprised as she was grateful to be left in peace, but there was nothing for it now. He'd woken up, he'd seen her, and she couldn't focus anymore on anything other than the chance — the risk — that he could come over any minute now and… And what? Turning back toward the window, she tried to enjoy the view again, but she just kept feeling his presence from across the room, wondering now what he thought, what he felt — it was always like this, this always came with being seen. Everyone just had to have some opinion, and she couldn't help but care, and worry.
This is going to be the rest of my life, she bitterly thought. All her options of freedom, of going where she wanted, of being alone for days, of not having to speak to anyone for long blissful weeks, gone. It's always going to be like this.
Don't you like him even a little bit though?
That's not the point.
And he likes you…
That's not true.
She turned to look at him on the bed, his breaths deep and body still, all that hot skin above the covers and lean strong shapes beneath. His hair was a bit ruffled and just beneath the pillow she could see the metal arm curled up, hugging it in sleep. He was so tactile, so instinctively intimate, even after everything he'd been through — perhaps because of it. Bucky deserved to have someone nice… She thought over what he said earlier, 'what made her happy'. She couldn't remember many recent occasions of that, not significant ones at least: sure, a successful report was alright, the heartfelt thanks from a colleague was nice, and finding a favourite cake at a shop, or a set of bonbons in beautiful packaging, or seeing a kitty, or getting to pet one.
But those were just little pleasant moments that went away, they weren't the foundation for anything. And none of them involved any real intimacy — if anything all events of intimacy, from something as distant as just being at a party to being forced to hug someone, all of them left her feeling stressed, and inadequate, and sad, and took hours to recover from. She explored in her mind all the options of giving Bucky what he wanted, his payment for keeping her safe from SHIELD, but she couldn't imagine putting herself through any of it. She couldn't even fake it, the very thought got stuck in her mind. He wouldn't let her get away, he'd made that abundantly clear, and she couldn't bide her time with fake affection until he inevitably got bored of her. All it left her with were awful options: keep being miserable, or make him angry enough to throw her away and end up in prison. Or… ?
How else, how else to survive having to be his wife and give him what he wants when I hate it, I hate him… I don't hate him.
She sunk lower in the window's alcove and loosely hugged herself. The wedding ring nearly touched the glass, reflecting faintly back, and looking at it, she got lost in thoughts of that morning, when he'd made her his. How he looked at her, and how he touched her and held her and talked to her and kissed her, but mostly how he — She couldn't hold the memories for long without having to cover her face completely with both hands, then had to open her eyes and look between her fingers at the wall to distract herself, to stop herself remembering. And it wasn't just the shame of being seen and felt by a man, wasn't just about the utter meanness of him to do it when she told him 'no', wasn't even about losing that part of herself because she'd thought about it, too, with him…
An idea came, and her whole body shivered.
What if he really does like you?
There's no chance of that.
But then, with the cold ring brushing her face, right in front of her, inescapable, she thought of another way through this. She took a vow, after all, and he really was her husband. If she could do it as a job, as an obligation like any other, as a duty… Would it make her happy, to perform a duty? To fulfil of a noble vow, to sublimate it somehow for —
it isn't going to work it isn't going to work it isn't going to work
— for however long it lasted.
She sighed and looked once more at the back of him and, without thinking anymore, let her body raise her up, take her back to bed, and lay her slowly down. The mattress didn't even move as she inched her way to his side. Her forehead barely touched his back, and that was all he was waiting for as instantly he turned and wrapped his arm around her. His leg curled around hers, lips at her forehead for one long kiss, and after he was done, he rested his chin over her head and settled her comfily against his chest with one deep, contented sigh.
She woke up to bright lights and an empty bed. Cracking her eyes open, Bucky was nowhere in sight, and sunshine was pouring through the window. She checked the phone and saw it was 10:30 AM, and just then she heard noise coming from the living room.
"You up yet, babe?" he asked in a light tone as he wheeled something inside.
"What's that?" she rasped.
He brought it to the side of the bed and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "Thought we might have breakfast in bed today."
Bucky had let her sleep in and called for room service again. He was clean and shaved and still in a bathrobe, with probably little underneath. And while she didn't exactly like how yesterday's breakfast ended, it was tempting to stay in bed.
"Can I maybe shower first?" she asked, then added "I'll be quick," realising he'd probably waited for her before eating.
"Sure thing, doll," he grinned.
As it turned out, Bucky had a reason for keeping her in bed. After they cleared out the coffee cups and the plates and boring newspapers, he cupped her neck and leaned it back and fell upon her with kisses, inching her own robe away and taking his completely off.
"Left me hungry for you after yesterday, darling," he whispered into her skin. "Wanted to wait a bit more, but…" Kiss after kiss, he worked his way lower as he held her ribcage still.
"Thought you'd had your fill…"
He raised his head enough to grin at her. "I'm just getting started."
"Bucky…" she whined when his hands, fingers spread and teasing, passed over her chest, his lips at her stomach. She had to call his name again to get his attention.
"What is it, doll?" he huskily asked with his mouth just above the surface of her skin.
"I'm still achy."
"Oh…" His hands went back down to caress her sides, up and down in steady motions, as he looked into her eyes and tried to calm his breathing. "It's ok…" he gently said and, as his metal hand settled a bit higher and the thumb moved left and right to tease the tip of her, he offered "Maybe we can try something else, if you want."
She only had herself to blame, and her newly formed and probably doomed dedication to the idea of duty. Two minutes later she was straddling him, one leg bent the other stretched beside him, her chest slightly above his, hands holding on to him by his neck while his teeth nipped at her shoulder. Her still-damp hair stuck to her back, but her front was burning from him. He wasn't doing anything to her, he just wanted to have her there for him to feel on top of his chest and stomach while he worked himself beneath her. His left arm was steady at her back, just in case she slipped lower than she wanted to.
"That's it, sweetheart," he murmured. "Just let yourself lay down on me…" His right arm and shoulder flexed with the movement, and slowly it moved her too, and as she allowed herself to lay a bit more firmly, like he said, the whole surface of his skin was teased. "Bit higher," he moaned, stretching his neck to reach hers with his lips. "Let me kiss you there…"
She pulled herself up the distance and leaned her head back, allowing him to place a suckling kiss over her throat. His teeth just barely grazed it, and she gasped. He felt her tense as if to pull away, and although she didn't move, he whined into her skin in protest.
"It's ok, it's ok," he tried to placate her, to place a few more kisses up and down her neck. "Don't be scared… Don't be scared of me."
She bowed her head and let it sink into the pillow, trying not to hear the sleek wet sounds behind, nor think of what the jerking motions of his arm meant. Each kiss he placed on her came as a surprise, each one made her jump a little, and each of his moans made her wonder if something was wrong, if she was a burden, if she made things worse, but they were only followed by more kisses.
Bucky raised his head from her and turned to whisper in her ear, pleading and hungry, "I need more." She almost turned her head, her cheek brushing his. "Talk to me, sweetheart…" He must've felt her choke, and though his arm didn't stop its rhythmic up and down, he added a more gentle "Can you?"
"I'll try…" she whispered back, still against his cheek and unable to look at anything. Maybe speaking would distract her. "I… I do want you to feel good," and she did mean it, she did want to help him, especially when he was being so gentle, so cautious with her, and of all the ways to be a wife this should be the easiest, right?
"Oh yeah, you do?" he asked with a smirk, and it wasn't necessarily just teasing because the prospect that she wanted him to feel nice, that she might even want to be the reason for it, was both exciting and rather new. And to hear it from her, who was still fairly innocent and untried by any other man, meant there would be a little less artifice there, a little more sincerity.
She raised her head to look at him and bit her lip as she looked into his eyes, nodding mutely at first, before she softly spoke "I do, I want to give you what you want. You're so good, sweetheart, you've been so good to me…"
He inhaled sharply, and though she was so quiet he might not have heard her if he was just a bit further, her words struck deep and stayed there. On its own, his grip tightened on his manhood, and he cradled her closer with the metal arm, feeling her soft and damp across his stomach.
"Is this what you wanted, darling?" she asked as she ran her fingers in feather touches down his neck, the inside of his arm, "You like it when I talk to you?", then up again and down his flexing chest, "you like it when I touch you?" stopping to flick and tease him there and make him moan almost in pain. Then she sunk her nails in and dragged down, breathing through her teeth to ask "Is this what you like?" and through his rambled pleas of —
"Yes yes y…"
— she asked in a cold low voice "You like me?" Why did you ask that?
"Yes, I… f— I love you." Oh no.
She tore her gaze away from his flushed and open face, away from those soft grey eyes that looked pleadingly at her, to look down between them, between their two chests and the parting of her legs, to where his fist was gripping.
"Darling," she cooed in a sudden teasing tone, so low and close and wet he could hear her tongue brush against her lower lip. "Oh just look at that…" With a purr, she turned her attention back to him and tilted her face as if for a kiss but instead only said, with a little pout, "it's no wonder you hurt me."
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he panted and rambled heartfelt apologies, but lower down his arm moved faster, gripped harder, in a lovely simulation of how punishingly tight she'd been, what a perfect fight he'd had with her little body, and how satisfying it was to win. He'd never felt like more of a man than when he conquered her. "I didn't mean to hurt you, doll, I swear I never did…"
"Shhh it's alright," she whispered, cupping his face and brushing her fingers over his cheeks, the circles under his eyes, then smoothing out his eyebrows as she looked lovingly across his whole contrite face.
"I just couldn't… I couldn't help it, you —"
"No, don't say that…"
"You're so — oh s— so pretty, sweetheart, I wanted you, I want you, I couldn't help it —"
"Don't talk like that, Bucky," she begged, holding his face still in her hands as she let herself lay lower on him, her legs spreading just slightly, chest pressed against his, her lips almost to his own. He searched her face, mouth parting just in gasps and moans while he teased the tip of himself with his hand, waiting for her to find the words. "If…" she started with a sigh, and threading her fingers through his hair she looked into his eyes for the courage to admit, "Don't say you can't help it, it kills me, it kills me to think about…" And though he might not have understood, she could see in his face a sympathy with the pain he caught a glimpse of. "Be gentle with me or hurt me or do whatever you want to me, but I want you to mean it, alright? Want whatever it is, with me, just with me…"
"Just with you, doll," he promised, metal hand moving up her back to rest at the nape of her neck and hold her there. "My best girl, my own, my only…"
"Tell me you're mine." Her caressing fingers turned into fists in his hair and pulled his head back.
The possessiveness and pain only served to bring him closer, and through teeth gritted in unexpected pleasure, before her demand was even fully through her lips, Bucky answered "Yes yours, only yours, I swear it."
Her grip loosened in his hair and she rewarded him with a kiss, giving him her lips to soften his sighs against and bite and sip tenderness from, while her hands went down to frame his chest, bracing against his hot broad ribcage that arched with frantic breathing.
"I'm so close, sweetheart…" Bucky moaned, and looked with yearning down at her before he asked "Come closer, higher, let me…"
It was more difficult for her to find the courage for it, but remembering her earlier intentions, she moved up his body just the distance needed for his mouth to reach her chest. She braced her hands against the headboard as she held herself above him, her frustrated womanhood fevering away at the base of his ribs while she gave him more flesh to kiss. And all along her back, the metal arm held her — from moving lower, from moving away, from being forgotten — and it didn't even feel cold anymore. Every now and then it would fall all the way down to her thigh and pull her tighter against him, then go back up and caress the hair away from her neck.
"So close…" Bucky rasped, "so close you for, doll."
Her hand went down to grip his upper arm, feeling the flexing and tension and the hard push and pull, and her mouth, without permission, opened to breathlessly ask:
"You feel that?" She looked pointedly down to him, rubbing herself just slightly against him as her other hand relaxed around the bedframe enough so she could lay against him. "You hear it?"
Bucky looked into her eyes, dazed and blinded with pleasure, but he instantly knew what she meant. "It's beating so fast," he whispered, lips pressing kisses right at the centre of her chest to feel the frenzied flutters. His flesh hand moved in ever wetter thrusts while the metal wrapped itself around her, and holding her chest like a cherished box —
"It's beating just for you."
— he pulled her down and kissed her little heart through her ribcage.
She released a sigh and rested her head on top of his, nails sinking into the hard muscles of his arm, though it did little to ground her because all around her, she felt him. Her skin was teased to scorching, the heavy warm scent of him reached deep inside, whenever she opened her eyes she saw either his ruffled hair or his shoulder or arm or his chest or his eyes, and through it all, that constant backdrop of skin against skin, seeping.
His lips left her chest with a sudden urgency. "Doll, please, I need to…"
"Almost there?" she softly asked, looking in his eyes.
"Need to be inside you," he whispered, gaze flickering down to her parted lips. "Please, doll, tell me I can…"
"Just a bit," he husked. "Don't let it go to waste, now…"
"Still hurts", the girl whined, but looked at him as hungrily as he was.
"I'll give you just a little bit, sweetheart, come on… Try for me."
"Alright…" she relented, and allowed him to move her slightly lower.
"Oh, doll…" he moaned when his fingers brushed against her. "So swollen…" She hadn't just been teasing him, she really was still hurting, and he was now even gentler than she could imagine as he moved the tip over, and around, and up and down that dripping heat. "There you go, easy, thaaat's it," Bucky whispered as he eased her down, keeping his eyes on her face for any hint of pain. "Isn't that ok?"
"Yes…" she gasped, looking as ravished as he felt while she bit her lip and blushed.
"Now hold still, honey. So close so close… There it is, there we go, ah f—"
He barely slipped himself in her. Knowing he couldn't go any further destroyed him, but he stopped. "Good?"
She bit her lips closed and moaned, but kept looking at him. His flesh hand held him still, while the metal one pet her back to calm her. It didn't take him much, only a few more brushes of his fist along his length, and the contrast of the cold of the room with the heat of her, and within seconds he could barely keep his eyes open as he felt himself empty up into her. He could tell she noticed exactly when it happened too, her eyes widening and that blush heating up her lips and neck. But she didn't move away, she let her body be used.
Bucky swallowed his moans and looked at her the whole time, from the first rush to the slow drip of what was left… When he sensed it was done, he took himself out just as carefully and, with his arms around her, moved the girl back down on the bed. She barely touched the mattress when his lips were on her again, kissing her forehead gratefully and full of love.
They rested in bed for a while before getting cleaned up. He made sure she was ok, and she slowly felt her breath come back. Bucky arranged them in such a way that her head could rest against his flesh arm, while the metal one caressed her forehead and hips and any place that felt too warm and needed cooling. He tried not to think about the things she'd said, and by the far off look in her eyes, she was trying not to think about them either. If he started to hope now… He'd hoped before, and it never ended well. But there was something there, something just for him. If she could be so jealous and possessive and as murderous as he, in her own little way, at the thought of other women… It made Bucky's heart soar in such a way that any sexual pleasure paled by comparison. At some point, she remembered he was there and staring at her. She looked up at him through her lashes, but couldn't hold his gaze for long. Even looking back down wasn't enough, so she buried her face in the pillows.
"You alright?" he softly asked, brushing her hair away. She mumbled and nodded a bit. "Want some water?" Her face finally came back up, but she didn't seem too sure, and couldn't look at him again either. "I'll get you some."
Bucky got off the bed with almost a spring in his step and went to look through the minifridge. He poured some cold water in two glasses and went back to bed, propping her up a bit, and she downed the whole thing in one breath. The girl laid slowly back down while Bucky drank his own, but she didn't seem so pained this time; just careful… Once he was back with her, arms all around her again, he found he couldn't hold it in any longer.
"You were perfect," he told her. Immediately, she buried her face back down. "You still are."
Taglist: @golden-ghost @themaskismyface @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @ximaginx @ahahafudge @vikingqueen28 @ihavemanyhusbandfandoms @alexmercer-reginaldpeters @lianadare18 @frietiemeloen @ovoftbieber @gloomybrieyxb @learisa @offcast-plus1 @humongouswinnerduckmuffin @sailorsammyy @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @mandybug39 @fiositivity @caitdjarin @millennial-teenybopper @ficklemcselfish @panickingqueer @chipilerendi @caramelcandescence @general-bunny @ssa-steverogers @witches-of-discovery-a @bluemoon-icecream @sugarplum1996 @lo-manburg @priscilastyles @sugarpunch-princess
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I must be out of my mind… but after obsessing over the Mandalorian and FATWS recently … if you wanna send in headcanon requests for Mando and Bucky, I think that’ll be fun 😉😅
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Bucky Barnes (Dark One Shots)
This is my Bucky’s Masterlist. For the whole masterlist please check this out. <3
Every work has its own warnings. Only +18, minors are not welcome.
Dance Again, Darling
Summary: reader is in the wrong place at the wrong time, trying to send some positive vibes.
Escape is not an option
Summary: the reader tries desperately to escape Bucky Barnes. (based on a request)
Debts (Dark! Mafia! Bucky Barnes)
Summary: father’s reader has debts of game with a dangerous boss. You try to save your family, but Bucky has other plans.
Summary: Bucky has a bad dream and reader decides to take care of him.
Bad girl (Dark! Natasha Romanoff x reader x Dark! Bucky Barnes)
Summary: you give a try for one last run for your life. Things don’t really go as planned.
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Bad girl. (Dark! Natasha Romanoff x reader x Dark! Bucky Barnes)
╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗
Hey there! This is kinda a one shot of Dark! Natasha Romanoff x reader x Dark! Bucky Barnes. Please, tell me what you think about this and if you would like a part 2! Reblogs, comments and support are always welcome. Feedbacks always make my day. Enjoy!
Summary: you give a try for one last run for your life. Things don’t really go as planned.
Warnings: mommy kink, age gap, dark themes, a lot of angst, violence (slight but still), implied past torture and noncon, implied future noncon, fighting. Please, only +18, if you're a minor DO NOT read. If you do not feel safe with these dark themes, please do not read.
╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝
A long time. So much time had you spent trying to make Natasha Romanoff believe that somehow you were happy with her, just waiting to get out.
It was likely that you gave your mom the impression that you were now so happy and carefree with her, in that luxurious apartment reserved just for the two of you overlooking the greenery and a forest not far away. It was to relax you, to encourage you, she said.
So one day you could finally walk hand in hand with her. Natasha had said it with such emotion it almost made you feel bad, she seemed so happy. Then of course, you also remembered why she never let you out after that desperate escape attempt.
You had miserably caught the attention of a poor old man, who immediately offered you help even if confused. Natasha arrived shortly after and she explained how you suffered from various ailments, how you were so desperate. No, you just wanted to get away, but your only hope vanished into thin air in the knowledge that someone else would take care of that problem. That she would take care of you.
You would vomit just at the thought of what she did to you next: she tied you up entirely with tight ropes that made you bruises and scratches, and he continued to torture you for hours and hours, sexually. She had humiliated and denigrated you, forced you to play with her and her games. Even if Natasha thought that by now the struggle had died down in you, in reality no, it was not like that at all: your mind was still there, and even if shattered it still harbored that hope. Still the strength to fight it. And you would have fought it.
So when she made a small mistake due to all the pressure they put on her during the missions - Natasha, she was so tired of being away from you for so long and the missions without your little "help" became more complex for the redhead-, you took advantage of it without thinking twice.
Natasha had stopped playing with you for weeks now and making you believe she was a fool with absolutely stupid mistakes. But you fell for it, and other punishments followed. The damn woman knew very well what points to hit, how to knock you down.
But you had built an armor and that was your only defense.
You smiled and walked without thinking twice to the window not blocked by Natasha in the bathroom: she had left in a hurry, she had probably forgotten. It took just one step outside and you were free. Sure, one more jump down the soft blades of grass, but you were strong, you thought you could do it. You had to do it.
And so, with a beautiful smile adorning your tired face and the bags under your eyes showing your unstoppable fatigue, you finally came down. Your knees ached, but luckily there wasn't any great pain to endure, other than that caused by all the abuse Natasha suffered. It was abuse, not love.
You always told yourself this while she tried to bribe you with her words. That smile, that splendid smile of hope you had, soon disappeared when you heard a signal coming from inside the house. She had a very simple system: if it was opened from the outside through Natasha herself or the password that she usually used (and that you did not know), then the system would not activate. However, if the windows or doors were forced from the inside and subsequently unlocked for any reason, the alarm would go off. Since the window was not forced but left open, you did not understand the connection at all.
Then, you remembered the mistake you made.
┈┈┈┈ □ ┈┈┈┈
"Honey, I don't like you trying to run away when we're together. Mom doesn't like this behavior." she told you sternly as she forced you to keep drinking the heated milk. Her arms were folded and she had that stern but still strangely sweet look. You didn't know what happened to her, as Natasha was rarely sweet when she was mad at you. But you certainly didn't want to miss that little chance to not get punished.
"I'm sorry... I was afraid of a new... punishment." you hesitantly admitted, and you knew well that there was more than a grain of truth to what you were saying. Her raised eyebrow assured you to add a "mom" to the repeated excuse me, at which she smiled with satisfaction.
You felt her blood boil when you saw her expression so satisfied, probably at the thought of how she transformed you into her sweet and perfect doll of hers. About her The her adorable and beautiful sweetness of her, she said. She also said she remembered how attractive you were and so sweet to her, bringing her some cappuccinos when she was down on some mission. Natasha had clearly mistaken those gestures for something more, as after several unwanted attentions from her her patience ran out and she directly decided to kidnap you. To take you away from everything and everyone you knew.
"I won't do it again, mom." you said with more conviction, but not too much to make her suspicious. You were playing a dangerous game.
She smiled softly at you, bowing to your level given the specially lowest stool made for a little girl, then kissed you tenderly on the forehead. "Oh love, I know. I'll get some updates done and improve this little paradise for the three of us, so you can't try to escape from me anymore. ‘Cause you can't escape from me, remember sweetheart?" you sensed her low growl from her throat towards the last question, and then you smiled meekly and widened her eyes slightly. You also heard the three in the whole sentence, but it was surely a mistake. Your mind was completely off that day, you barely knew how to stand up and play nice. That must have been a mistake.
You saw that flash in her eyes that allowed you to save yourself or at least not make her too hard on you. "Yes mom, I'll stay here with you forever."
Oh, how Natasha loved you.
┈┈┈┈ □ ┈┈┈┈
"(Y / n)!"
You heard your name being screamed out loud, and by now you knew it was too late. You didn't know why she came back early, but you did know one thing: she had gone to hell. Natasha's trust had cost you so much time, months, sacrifices. Your body and mind had given up, you got tired of pretending. You would have gone down, but by now you were there, savoring the clean air and the grass. And she, you were pretty sure she was so mad she could even beat you up for hours. So, we might as well try a run.
Without further ado, you started running, only to hear the echo of her furious screams from her. You knew that underneath those screams was pure despair, and a sense of guilt lurked inside you. But again, the fault was hers: she had abused you. You owed her nothing but the pain to repay. So why did you feel a pang in her heart?
Whatever it was, guilt or not, quickly disappeared when you briefly turned your gaze to the window you fled from, only to meet her gaze. It was dark, completely. You knew you had to run even faster, beyond your limits. The mental ones were now gone.
Your lungs burned from lack of oxygen and your legs begged for mercy. You didn't even know where the fuck you were going, where you were. "Please!" you exclaimed aloud, looking for a person, a thing, any fucking thing.
You saw nothing but green and a flash of gray. Grey? No, it was all green. The meadow, the woods you were now reaching, but no sign of Natasha. Your brain and your instincts immediately pointed out something deeply wrong, but you didn't have time to think. You had to run.
And that was your umpteenth mistake. Only when you felt a strong grip on your life did you realize two things: your hope that now shattered before your eyes, and the fact that that arm was too inhuman and too big to be Natasha's.
Without delay you looked behind you, only to see a flash of blue eyes. They were blue. But it wasn't Natasha.
That was the Winter Soldier. It only took him a second to freeze you in his grip, and his long hair did nothing but go over your face now covered in sweat from running. Your legs were shattered and you felt that you were beyond your limits, but you refused to stay with him.
You were frightened by that man just looking at him from a distance. Even when you worked in the complex, even when you were distributing all the drinks, when his turn came you were hesitant and almost struggled to hide the violent shivers that assailed you. But now, as bitchy as you might have been - or maybe too scared - in the past, he was your only hope. You opened your mouth for miserable help, one that would finally be heard, but he preceded you.
"I still don't believe you took her."
Your blood froze to the point where your own struggle ceased. You looked at him with resounding shock, and he couldn't help but show you an arrogant smile.
"Hi doll. Remember me?" he mocked you, but he knew well you remembered it. Oh, he could feel every single flicker under that damned white shirt that was too tight and that skirt too short for his taste, but still extraordinarily sexy. Bucky wasn't the type to get women clouding his head, but you weren't just that, it was another matter. You were such a small, frail and insignificant thing: he could crush you and reduce you to pulp. It only took one look with the pissed woman who now came to you two.
He looked at you steaming as her fists were still clenched against her hips. Oh, how you would have paid dearly for it.
"Just in time." she murmured to the soldier who still held you. The struggles were now over, and only your desperation and the tears that lurked in your eyes remained.
"What are you doing...?" you had the courage to murmur in an almost disjointed way, looking at her with great attention. She couldn't even build that sadistic, ironic smile she usually gave you before your punishments. Your stomach twisted as your instinct screamed at you that something was deeply wrong, and what was worse, you couldn't help it.
"Bucky here, he had the same idea as I did when I saw you. We soon discovered so many things in common, and I thought that if I could be mom... then he could be dad. And it often happens that in families a mom is struggling to discipline a stupid ungrateful brat, just like you. " she growled with such ferocity it made you shiver and almost push yourself defensively into Bucky's arms, but you knew better. You knew from his dark look at him that he had something in store for you.
You swallowed noisily, your throat now dry and scratched from all your efforts. "Natasha, please..." you pleaded one last time, only to get a slap in the face. You remained with your face covered by your own messy hair, only to look back at her now furious expression at her. She had that look, the same look as when you said you would never love her. This time you weren't really sure you'd get out of it alive.
"I'm your mom, you stupid bitch. But you don't listen to me, do you? So, I suppose you'll listen to your new dad." at that point she offered you a bitter smile, and your useless pleas were of no avail. Bucky began to drag you without too many pretensions towards the apartment that you would have shared by now in three, and Natasha was looking at you from further and further away.
"Please, I'll be good! I swear, I'll never run away again, I'll be your good girl, please Nat!" you screamed desperately as you tried to escape the super soldier's grasp, and you nearly succeeded. You saw Natasha keep staring steadily, almost without blinking, as Bucky snorted and pulled you up again with a firm grip on her hair. You no longer had the strength to scream, your own voice was leaving you.
"It's useless baby, you pissed Mommy. And now..." Bucky came dangerously close to your face, causing his own warm breath to fall on your face as you winced visibly with tears streaming down your cheeks. "And now, you will finally get the punishment you deserve for disobeying her... and for always denying staying a fucking second longer with me." he growled fiercely, just as he regained his grip on your waist and dragged you to the unlocked front door.
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When you had told your older brother about the fact that you seem to have fallen for his old friend’s best friend (aka Sam’s friend and partner) Bucky Barnes, Sam didn’t seem to take the news well. As your older brother, he was protective, he always had been and so, when you told him how you felt about Bucky, he immediately tried to shut down the idea.
As days and weeks passed and the more time you spent around Sam and Bucky, Sam could see that Bucky clearly felt the same for you, “Okay, fine, dammit!” Sam exclaimed one night, “I can’t take your damn eye flirting, just go on a date already!”
Bucky clapped him on the shoulder, “Thanks, partner,” he said, throwing a wink your way.
“I ain’t your damn partner.”
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Zemo | Drabble
Bucky clenched his jaw.
He saw the way you were looking at Zemo. He was talking to some kids and giving them Turkish delights.
You hadn’t noticed Bucky behind you. You were supposed to be keeping an eye on Zemo while they went looking for information, and of course you were doing that. You were mesmerized by him.
“What’s he doing?” Sam asked referring to Zemo. He stood beside you.
“Sometimes I forget” you whispered.
“What?” Bucky asked you.
“That he used to be a dad” you didn’t take your eyes off Zemo.
And that’s why you couldn’t hate him. You knew the Avengers had taken everything from him and felt guilty for it. He was someone you could understand. And these past days had brought you closer to him.
Zemo looked your way. He gave you a soft smile.
And you felt something in your chest you hadn’t felt in a long time.
Gif not mine
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Imagine Pride Masterlist
A/N: Self-explanatory; a masterlist for the Imagine Pride series! If you want an imagine that you don’t already see, feel free to request it (when requests are open, of course). Happy Pride, folks!
Summary: An imagine-exclusive series of Pride-specific one-shots, mainly focusing on Reader coming out as a certain sexuality/gender identity and revolving around general LGBTQ+ events (Pride parades/marches, transitioning, just LGBTQ+ characters hanging out together, etc), but also exploring multiple LGBTQ+ headcanons for canon characters.
Imagine Coming Out to Steve as Bisexual
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A Little On The Lonely Side - Epilogue
Female Reader x The Winter Solder
Prompt: Reader is put in charge of The Winter Soldier's care in regards to Cryo-Stasis. During their first meanting, she discovers James.
A/N: This was my first ever series back in 2017? Gibing it a little revamp. Feedback appreciated but I don't get my hopes up!
MasterList | Part 2 >>
At what point does a man stop being a man and become a monster?
And is he truly a monster if the things he does are not of his own desire?
And at what point does a monster turn into a ghoul that haunts the dreams of people who have only ever heard his name or glimpsed his shadow?
Can a monster ever become a man again?
Did he want to become a man again?
These were the thoughts that stumbled around in Y/N's head as she lay in her uncomfortable, steel-framed bed with a lumpy mattress barely two inches thick. The red numbers on the alarm clock blared 'Four twenty-three' at her, and she wondered if trying to go back to sleep for another hour was worth it? If those titanium fingers would be where she left them - almost wrapped around her throat - in her nightmare.
She knew it had been awake for several days; her predecessor had taken the Asset out of cryo-freeze, and once the preparations were complete and the hoarse screaming she could hear from the hall had stopped, Y/N was head of the Cryo-Team.
Finding the man who had taught her about the machines, the processes, the science and the theory of her speciality dead on the floor had been a shock. His neck snapped and the word 'Traitor' carved into his forehead for everyone to see.
Hydra demanded loyalty and compliance at all times, in all things.
She had never even seen the Asset, had no idea what The Winter Soldier looked like in the flesh. Rumours said that it was a giant. Some described it as horribly disfigured. Some said it was beautiful and young, that it would charm you close then bite out your throat with sharpened teeth. Everyone agreed that it had a metal arm.
In fact, she knew more about the arm than she did about the Asset. All of her training had been for her to take over its care. To ensure the Asset was put into stasis properly, that it was removed from stasis and ready to receive orders, and she was supposed to ensure the health of the Asset was at its peak.
For two years, she had been given screens to monitor, blood to analyse, and her diets recommended for when it was awake. She had studied the drip of serum left over, knew it was in the Asset's veins and what it had done to a young soldier.
The Asset's Handlers would come to her, report on ailments, on fatigue or heightened aggression - even asked her to find a way to keep The Winter Soldier's mind quiet; make it docile. The Handlers were frightened of the charge they were supposed to be caring for - these highly trained fighters with guns and knives were afraid of one human male.
Something Y/N had noticed over the two years was that each time the Asset was thawed out, it would go on a mission and come back less than perfect. Wounds were not treated; they simply wrapped them before throwing it back into the freezer. Several times she had complained this would cause damage to the cells around the injury, increasing the risk of infection and that a fever could be catastrophic. That if they didn't concentrate on the Asset's diet and nutrition, it would get weak.
Someone had finally heeded her warning, and she was told that at six in the morning, she would be thoroughly checking the Asset over and preparing it for Cryo-stasis... Not even two days after, it snapped her boss's neck like a twig.
Y/N eventually go herself up, washing her body in tepid water that sputtered from the old pipes and murmuring to herself all the processes she would need to go through. Wondering how many of her Team she would need and if the Handlers would hold the Asset down when required. She dressed in the shapeless, dull grey jumpsuit they equipped her Team with and headed for the stasis room. A man with a rifle stood at the door and smirked at her when she realised no one else was there, "Was the time changed?"
"No." He said with an almost yawn, not standing at attention but leaning against the wall. "You were the one whining about the Asset's treatment, so we figure you should deal with it alone - Don't worry, we turned off the monitors and audio, and I'll lock the door behind you. Everyone will be safe."
"...What?" Y/N breathed out, her eyes widening in alarm as the door slid open, "What if... I - Why?!"
The Handler shrugged, "The fewer people who see it, the better. If you want to take unnecessary risks - then so so alone." He was amused by how her chest heaved a little as panic seized her heart and squeezed, "Don't worry, Soldat likes women - he's very merciful when he kills them."
All but shoved inside, the door slammed behind her; Y/N exhaled weakly as her eyes scanned the room. There were three Cryo-tubes in the large room; towering generators and miles of wire secured to the walls and taped down to the floors were the only thing decorating the metal cube space. The monitors were the only other beacons of light that didn't focus primarily on the Asset. She was aware of it sitting there on the steel chair, both wrist and forearms held down by solid shackles attached to the armrests. The same cuffs wrapped around its ankles.
A ripple of fear ran down her spine as she approached carefully, watching the muscled chest move up and down in a slow, steady rhythm through the skintight Cryo-suit, waiting for it to change and warn her of an attack. "Soldat?" She called out before stepping even closer, the silence in the room almost crushing her.
The Asset didn't answer her, it didn't move to acknowledge her, and she wondered if it could even think or speak. A buzz in the air snapped, and Y/N let out a startled yelp, looking all around her for the cause then realising it came from a headset a few feet above the Asset's head.
So, that wasn't a rumour... They really did have to shock it into compliance. It seemed such a cruel practice for an organisation that wanted to save the world.
"Soldat, do you understand me?"
"Yes." His voice sounded like gravel grinding itself together, deep, unused, and devoid of any feeling. The Asset continued to stare blankly at the ceiling, past the electrodes, which still buzzed with excess energy.
"That's something," Y/N breathed out, barely reaching her own ears but then the other's eyes drifted to her, steely blue eyes that said so much more than she thought could be spoken by mouth. Of course, it had heard her with its enhancements. Y/N felt sweat breaking out on her brow, her hands shook anxiously as it looked at her – really looked at her – the stare almost painful to her, like nails, raking over her skin.
Seeing the Asset in person, dismissing all the rumours of its appearance, gave her new things to have nightmares about. Every muscle, every sinew of it laden with violent tension, and she swore she could feel his presence around her; even from this distance, it was dark and thick, and she found it difficult to breathe in. This wasn't quite a monster; this was a predator, a wolf. Beautiful and dangerous.
"I'm in charge of your care, Soldat. You can call me -!"
The metal bands keeping the Asset down creaked as it strained against them, the flesh arm's muscles bulged impressively whilst the metal plates of the other shifted, eyes almost grey now as they went cold, "No." It was one word, but it was heavy, and it told her volumes – it was safer to never know her name.
The rumour was that if The Winter Soldier spoke your name, then you were good as dead.
"I'm going to treat your wound and take a few of your vitals." Y/N didn't know how she managed to keep the tremor out of her voice and sit on the spindly stool set at the Asset's side. Perhaps if she treated it like a cadaver rather than a living thing, this would be easier. This wasn't her skill set; she was qualified in cryogenics, knew the best conditions a body needed to be kept at, and knew how to thaw them out without causing massive internal damage.
When she had been scouted by Hydra at her internship, she had never imagined she would be trapped in an organisation that would do this to a living thing - Turn a man into a murderous, obedient doll. They had told her they wanted a new world, that they were looking for peace. Y/N had been enchanted by the idea of helping something so great, only to discover she had sold herself to the devil.
Or rather, the man - because now that she was this close, she could see he was a living, breathing human and not a fabled creature he had been made out to be. "...Do you have a name?"
"Asset. Soldat." It was a quick response that was followed by a quick hitch of his breath, "The Winter Soldier.
It made sense to strip him of his name.
"Okay, well," her hands reached for a syringe on the tray beside her for drawing blood. "I'm going to take some of your blood to see if the anaemia has improved since I adjusted your IV cocktail from the last mission."
The Winter Soldier's brows came down as he frowned, "Anaemia?" He shouldn't have been speaking or even able to think enough to ask questions - she wasn't a directive, she wasn't critical to a mission or even one of his Handlers – she was just here to stitch him up. Why was he now interested in his health beyond the physical?
"Yeah..." Y/N was a little confused by him too. "There was an infection from one of your old wounds, and you had a low blood count. It makes your healing slower and might even make you feel dizzy, or like you're running too hot. It makes waking you up a little more difficult if you get damaged." No, she didn't like that on the end of her tongue; the words didn't sit well, "I meant if you get hurt. I'm also not happy with your liver - we pump so much medicine into you to fight off these minor things that could be easily solved by treating your wounds that it's not coping great." Y/N had placed what she needed on the steel table beside her, the methodical actions soothing her and reminding her that this was just preparation for putting the man back to sleep. "And I need to examine your shoulder too."
"My shoulder?" He looked to his right, lips pursing as he tried to angle his head to find any damage.
"Your left shoulder." She clarified. "The ligaments seem tight, and the last x-ray suggested stress to the bones the titanium is knitted into." Finally, she felt steady enough to lean over him and grab the zip on his top; she began to pull it down, the sound almost deafening in the steel-clad room, her hand jerked to a halt when it hit the metal strap across his chest, "…Ah." she frowned at the band, why hadn't she taken note of that before? His arms and legs were secured already - this seemed overkill.
He let out a sort of a huff; one might almost describe it as amused even though his near blank expression didn't change much, "There's a release on the console." The woman turned reluctantly to the console he had nodded to, goosebumps raising all over her body as she realised she had to release him.
How could she not be terrified?
"You're not my mission." His voice was huskier now. The gravelly sound was not so noticeable the more he used his voice. She could hear the inflexions better, and his tone reflected his words – he wasn't interested in hurting her. Y/N swallowed her nervousness down and stood, walking to the console as if it were a live bomb.
Was this wise?
Was it a trap?
"What's the date?"
Her hand paused over the screen, glancing at him once before dropping her palm on the console - the sound of the straps coming loose was chilling. "I-it's…" What was wrong with her? She shouldn't have been choking on her words when all he had asked for was a date. "March tenth, nineteen eighty-nine."
A rustle alerted her that he was moving, and Y/N spun on her heel with her eyes wide and frightened, "Don't move!" Her screech had startled them both, the soldier fell back into the chair as if she had physically shoved him, whilst she clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle any further sounds. Her shaking knees could hardly hold her up, her vision blurred with frightened tears, and she let out an embarrassingly loud sob.
Being terrified of a man who didn't have thoughts or feelings of his own seemed ridiculous to her. Why did she have to deal with this? Wasn't her job to work in the background and never interact with the Asset Hydra was so proud of?
She should have kept thinking he was a thing and not a human being.
He was a weapon.
Hearing him move, having this silent threat in the same room as her, had thrown the Technician off completely. She knew he had to be watching her whilst she sunk to her knees, and she knew he could probably see her chest heaving as she fought back the panic clawing up her oesophagus with talon-like nails.
Y/N couldn't move.
She didn't dare look in his direction from her huddled up position by the console. The minutes ticking by felt like hours, and her body ached from how tense and tightly coiled they were.
She was waiting for that cold, metal hand to wrap around her throat like in her dream - praying that he really would be merciful and quick.
Hearing his voice, Y/N flinched further at first, not listening to what was being said, just acknowledging a sound. The Soldier's voice carried over to her, then slowly, it began to make sense.
Was he... Singing?
It was off-key and hardly recognisable as a song, but it was surreal considering the situation. Her lips parted to speak, to ask what he was doing, and nothing came out despite several attempts. Listening more closely, it was evident he didn't know the song all the way through as he kept looping what must have been the chorus.
"W-what... why are you...?"
"It's stuck in my head... sometimes it gets too loud, and it interferes with my mission."
Y/N had managed to stagger to her feet, using the console to hold her up as she tried to control just how scared she was and listen to the dazed babbling of a highly trained killer. "They wipe me when that happens... over and over. Wipe everything out that I don't need but this song - it always comes back."
Was he remembering?
Should she call someone and tell them their weapon was compromised and that he needed to be shocked back into submission again? Glancing at the device above his head, knowing they were still warm - how could she put him through that again so soon?
"It's my birthday... March tenth," the man mumbled, blinking slowly as the corners of his mouth lifted a little, "I would go dancin' and... this song... I - They played it... the band."
Y/N shook her head, "Stop talking." The more he said, the more he fed her of a life he barely remembered, the further she strayed from seeing him as an Asset, as a ghoul or a monster.
Her heart clenched.
Somehow she found the resolve to approach him, all but falling onto the stool beside him and taking in his face - no longer a blank slate.
He looked late twenty-something, maybe older, but it could have been the things he'd seen and done that made him appear that way. His chin and strong jaw were peppered with dark stubble the same colour as his hair, which was at the stage of awkwardly growing out of a much shorter style. Not quite what she would call long, but enough to stick to his forehead. There was an angry, red mark marring his once tanned skin over his left eye – the evidence left from the shock pads above his head.
The Soldier was gazing up at the ceiling again, not like before; this time, his perfectly formed mouth was moving, silently wording out the song stuck in his head. Blue eyes slightly glazed over, and his expression calm.
This wasn't the Asset she had walked in to treat - this was a glimpse of the person trapped inside him.
"I'll treat you quickly so you can sleep..." Y/N reached for the zip once more, eager to get away, to put him back to sleep and forget what she had seen - for both their sakes.
A warm hand – not cold as expected – but warm and large and gentle, placed itself on top of hers.
He gave her the most self-deprecating look she had ever seen in her life, licking his dry lips before speaking, "If I could remember all of the words... I'd ask you to dance."
"...James," Y/N felt a lump forming in her throat as he smiled so sweetly at her, "Let me get you fixed up, then we can dance all you want."
Leaving the room after an hour of treating and preparing The Winter Soldier for sleep, Y/N emerged from the room, half glaring at the man on guard and refusing to speak to him when he asked if the Asset had behaved. She filed her report and headed back to her room to monitor the screens and never told of 'James'.
She hoped he was dreaming of dance halls and pretty girls as he slept. Hoped the frozen air that swirled up around him as she put him in stasis held him at that moment until he was needed again.
At what point does a monster stop being a monster and become a man?
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Pairing: Andy Barber x F!Reader
Warnings: mentions of domestic abuse.
Summary: Andy and Y/N meet for the first time at a carnival... or maybe it's the second time.
Author's Note: Hiya peeps! This is a Defending Jacob AU where Andy has one more kid, a 5-year-old boy called Liam. enjoy!
Andy stared at his son with a disappointed look on his face as the tiny 5-year-old threw a tantrum. "Are you done?" he deadpanned, which caused his son to cry harder. Taking out his wallet, Andy showed it to his son, again, saying, "Look, I'm outta cash right now! We spent it all on other snacks and games! I can't buy you the lollipop, bub." His son wouldn't hear it.
Andy was out at a carnival with his 5 year old son, Liam. Who was currently wailing at the top of his lungs since Andy was not buying him the very big lollipop they were currently staring at. After everything that happened with Jacob, Andy and his ex-wife Laurie had... fallen apart.
They decided that a divorce was the only best option so here he was now, single and had full custody of Liam. Laurie had chosen Jacob. "Liam, stop crying, come on..." Andy insisted with a soft sigh, kneeling next to his kid. "Dada! I want the lolly!" Liam sobbed, curling up against his father.
"I told you already, we spent all our money. If I go to get some more, it'll be too late. Just forget the candy, Liam, we have sweets at home," he tried. "No!" Andy pinched the bridge of his nose. "Excuse me." His head snapped up at the feminine voice and his eyes met Y/E/C. The woman had a soft smile on her face, and she was holding the hand of her own daughter.
The daughter was older than Liam, maybe 10-11 years old. "Hi there," he said with a smile of his own, standing up with Liam in his arms. He had momentarily stopped crying, also staring at the lady and her daughter. Andy really thought he had seen her somewhere, but couldn't put a finger on it. Where have I seen her?
"Can I ask you something, sweetie?" the lady addressed his son. Liam nodded. "Do you want that?" She pointed to the lollipop and Liam's eyes twinkled as he nodded once again, this time with excitement. "What a coincidence! My daughter wants one too, how about I buy one for both of you?" Andy's eyes went wide.
"You really don't have to, ma'am," he refused but she shook her head, a winsome smile that had Andy's heart melting gracing her lips. "I don't have to. I want to. Please. Your son wants it really bad, doesn't he?" Andy chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. "He does, been throwing a tantrum for the past 20 minutes."
Y/N immediately bought two of the big lollipops, handing one to Liam and the other to her daughter. "Camila, come on baby, introduce yourself," Y/N smiled. The daughter gave Andy and Liam a winning smile. "Hi! I'm Camila Y/L/N, nice to meet you!" Andy smiled back at her.
"Hi bub, I'm Andy Barber and this is my son, Liam." Liam wiggled in his father's arms and he put him down. "Let's go check out the merry-go-round!" Liam squealed as he took Camila's hand, leading her away from both the parents. "He's so cute!" Camila called out cheekily and Andy laughed. "Don't stray far, both of you!" Y/N shouted after them.
Once both kids were gone, Andy and Y/N moved to a nearby bench. "Do you remember me, Mr Barber?" she asked him all of a sudden and he froze. Shit shit shit, where have I seen her before? I knew it! "I, um, I don't seem to..." he stammered but Y/N shook her head, giving him a soft smile. "It's fine, I didn't expect you to. We met a long time ago."
"Where, may I ask?"
"Well, um, I was one of your clients, actually. You were my lawyer when I got a divorce from my ex-husband." Memories flashed in his head as he remembered her. "Y/N Y/L/N! Yes! Now I remember, it's very good to see you again!" Both of them laughed a bit. "It's been a nice few years."
"Camila has grown a lot, last time I saw her she was a baby," Andy smiled but it quickly faded as he thought of her ex-husband. He was a cruel man; abused his wife, took her for granted. Y/N was only 21 or 22 then, which made her around 30 now. Andy had seen her wounds a few times; she once had a swollen eye. "Mr Barber?" He snapped out of his thoughts.
"Right, um, sorry," he cleared his throat and looked away, running a hand through his hair again. "You went very quiet all of a sudden, all okay?" Y/N frowned. "Just thinking about that ex of yours. He hasn't reached out to you in any way, has he? Because if he has, that motherfucking asshole—" Y/N cut him off by laughing.
"He hasn't, don't worry. Camila and I are doing very well." He glanced at her. "No new boyfriend?" Y/N bit her lip shyly and shook her head. "Not really. It's a bit difficult to date when you're a divorcée and have a ten year old daughter. No one wants the package," she huffed. Andy took his time observing her. Gorgeous.
She visibly looked different. Her style had changed, her hair had grown... far from the young lady he met around a decade ago. She looked beautiful then, but ethereal now. Her smile was still the same, as were her kind eyes that made him warm inside even after all these years. Sure, back then, he treated her simply like a client, a friend maybe.
Something felt different.
When she smiled at him, a shiver ran down his spine. "So, how are Jacob and Laurie? Are they doing well?" Y/N asked him and he involuntarily tensed. Truth was, it had been a year since he last saw them. He had cut off all ties with them, starting a new life— just him and Liam. "I, uh... I don't know," he muttered truthfully.
"You don't...?" Y/N blinked at him. "Laurie and I, we... we got a divorce too, after everything that happened with Jacob." Y/N had heard of that, how the lawyer's own son got accused of murder. He ended up not guilty, but the damage had been done. "I'm so sorry, Mr Barber," she whispered apologetically and he shook his head. "Not your fault. And call me Andy, please."
She gave him another smile. "Andy." And butterflies flitted around in his stomach as his name fell from her lips. He liked the sound of that. "So, what was the deal with Liam? Were you not getting him the lolly on purpose or...?" He laughed and shook his head. "No no, I was ready to get him that, I just ran outta money. Spent it all on other snacks and the rides."
Y/N laughed along. "Kids, am I right?" Both of them fondly shook their heads and turned to where Camila and Liam were playing alone on the merry-go-round. The carnival was about to close, so not many people were left. Y/N stole a glance at Andy. When she had first met him, she had immediately taken a liking to him.
But it wasn't like she could do anything about it; he had a wife and a child— Jacob was only 6 years old then. Now, though... "Are you seeing anyone?" she blurted out and Andy turned to her, visibly surprised at the question. Mortified, Y/N turned away from as she bit her lip again. "Sorry, uhm, ignore me, I just, I—"
"No, I'm not seeing anyone," he answered and she looked at him. He had a soft smile on his face. "Dada! Dada, can we go home?!" Liam and Camila soon made their way over to them. "I'm also tired, ma," Camila yawned and plopped down on Y/N's lap. She chuckled and kissed her on the side of her head. "Let's go home."
"Dada, will I meet Camila again?" Liam pouted at his father. Andy and Y/N looked at each other, a deep blush gracing his cheeks as Y/N looked away from him with pursed lips and a small, embarrassed smile. "If Y/N wants," he answered finally. "I'd like that very much, Andy." Camila and Liam cheered. "Yay! Can she come over to our house?"
"Sure thing, bud. Come on, say goodbye now," Andy stood up with Liam in his arms. Camila hopped off Y/N's lap and held her mother's hand, waving at Liam. "Bye Y/N, by Cami," Liam murmured sleepily, already clinging to his father as he buried his face in his neck. "Bye, sweetheart," Y/N laughed, exchanging numbers with Andy.
"I'll text you later, yeah?"
"Sure thing, Andy."
Y/N and Andy grinned as the two kids ran towards each other, hugging each other tightly. "Let's go to my room!" Liam insisted and the two took off, running up the stairs. Y/N, who was still standing outside the front door, shook her head. "Fast friends, aren't they?" Andy called her in and she stepped into the house, taking off her overcoat. Andy took it from her. "Yep."
Y/N also took off her shoes and kept them near the door as she walked in. "You have a nice house," she complimented and he blushed again. He had thoroughly cleaned it out in the morning just because he knew Y/N and Camila were going to visit in the afternoon. "Thank you so much. Can I get you anything? Some water?"
"That would be amazing, thank you."
Soon, the two settled down on the couchs, a glass of water in Y/N's hand. "So, are you still at your old job?" Conversation flowed easily between them as they sat there, occasional squeals and giggles coming from Liam's room upstairs. "It's great how you're looking after Liam and managing being a DA at the same time."
Andy chuckled bashfully. "It gets lonely sometimes, you know? Liam asks for his mother sometimes. I know it's been a few years, he was a baby then, doesn't even remember her properly but that doesn't stop him. I have no idea what to say to him," he admitted. "Same case with Camila," Y/N grimaced.
"Sucks, doesn't it? Kids need both parents," Andy breathed out. "Sure does. My own parents got one when I was 16. I desperately hoped my marriage wouldn't end up like that but... well, it did." Andy frowned at her. "And don't you dare blame yourself for it. It wasn't you. You are the most perfect person ever, it was your stupid ex who didn't deserve you and treated you like shit."
Y/N smiled softly at his words. "I am the most perfect person ever, huh?" she teased and Andy realized what he had blurted out. But he didn't back down. "You are. You always have been. Kind, polite, caring, intelligent... a great mother, by the way... you are awesome. I may not have noticed it then but now I have."
"Can I tell you something?"
"Sure thing, sweetheart." Y/N gave him another shy smile. "I've always thought you were handsome. Also intelligent, wise... just overall amazing, ya know? But then, I meant it in the form of respect, a fleeting crush. Now, though..." Andy's gaze darkened as he watched Y/N, who looked away from him while biting her lip.
He shifted closer to her. "Now what, Y/N? How do you mean it now?" he whispered, tilting her head in his direction. Y/N shakily let out a breath and Andy smirked, catching her lips in a searing kiss. "Now I mean it in a completely different way," she whispered when they pulled away to breathe. "Glad to hear it, darling," he smirked.
"What about you, Mr Barber?"
"I like you," he blurted out, "Really, I do. Maybe you can stay for dinner tonight?" Y/N gave him a huge smile. "I'd love to stay for dinner, Andy!" He grinned at her and both of them turned to the TV. Andy leaned against the couch, Y/N snuggling into his side as he switched the TV on, settling on a Disney movie playing on one channel.
He put an arm around her shoulders, her head resting on his chest. Just as they relaxed, two people came tumbling down the stairs. "We thought we heard Coco!" Camila squealed before freezing at the position Andy and Y/N were sitting in. Y/N threw her daughter a nervous smile, which soon turned into a horrified expression as the younger Y/L/N's eyes twinkled with mischief.
"I'm sure they're about to change the channel, Li, why don't we go back upstairs?" Liam pouted at Camila, seemingly unaffected by Andy and Y/N. The two adults glanced at each other, eyes wide. "But I wanna watch Coco," Liam whined. Camila whispered something in his ear.
Liam then looked over at Andy and Y/N, a disgusted look on his face. "Ew! You two are gross!" he blurted out before running back up the stairs. "What did you tell him, little miss?" Andy huffed out a laugh. "Just that you two have been kissing," Camila smirked, "Enjoy your date!"
She went back upstairs as well. Y/N and Andy continued staring at each other before promptly bursting into a fit of giggles. "Ah, kids," Y/N wheezed, wiping away a few tears of mirth. Andy pressed a quick kiss to her temple and they settled down in front of the television again.
Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months and months into years.
Time flew by, only strengthening Andy and Y/N's relationship.
"Y/N! Honey!" Y/N's head shot up at the sound of whimpers and her husband's shouts as she walked out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. Andy was carrying a crying Liam into the house, a cut visible on his knee and a few scratches on his arm. Camila soon followed in with Liam's bicycle.
"He fell," Andy sighed as he placed the 11 year old boy on the couch. "Aw, honey, hang on, I'll bring the first aid kit. Andy, can you take care of the food for me?" He readily agreed and went to the kitchen, a 16 year old Camila in tow as Y/N fetched the first aid kit. "Can I tell you something?" Liam muttered as she cleaned his wound.
"Anything," she smiled at him. "You're the best mom ever. I know you're not my biological mom but... but I... I met her once and I have decided that— that I like you better. Th-Thank you for being there and marrying dad. He's the happiest he's ever been, all because of you." Y/N teared up at his words.
"Liam, oh my God," she whispered and the boy pulled her in for a hug. "I love you," he whispered and Y/N cried harder. "I love you too, I love you so much," she sniffled, smiling as Liam wiped her tears off. "Dinner is sort— Y/N? Why are you crying sweetheart?" She felt a hand on her shoulder and pulled away from Liam.
"Nothing," she sighed, giving Andy a soft smile. He blinked and looked at Liam, who was desperately trying to convince all of them that his tears were because of his wounds. "Okay," Andy drawled, "Well, dinner is ready. Why don't we all eat? You'll feel better afterwards." A pause. "We can even have ice-cream."
At the mention of ice-cream Liam sat up straight, eyes twinkling. "You promise, dad?" Andy nodded. Liam cheered and got up, waddling towards the dining table where Camila already sat, busy texting on her phone. Andy and Y/N shared a laugh as Liam flicked her on the forehead, getting a slap on the back in return.
Once both the kids were busy, Andy turned to Y/N. "Why were you crying, sweetie? You know I hate to see you cry," he murmured. Y/N sighed and rested her forehead on his chest as his arms went around her waist. "Liam told me I was the best mom ever," she breathed, "And how happy he was to have me in yours and his life."
Andy rubbed her back, a huge smile blooming on his face. "He was right. I am one lucky man, you know? To have someone as gorgeous and wonderful as you. Still can't believe you said yes when I proposed," he teased, laughing when Y/N lightly slapped his bicep.
"It didn't work out well for both of us the first time, did it?" Y/N hummed. "No, not really. But now I'm not letting this family go," Andy spoke firmly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Y/N smiled and he instinctively reached down to kiss her lips, his hands sliding down to her butt. "How about another addition to the family, Mrs Barber?"
Y/N squealed. "Andy! The kids are in the next room!" Andy grinned. "Come on—"
"Mom! Dad! Are you done canoodling?! We're hungry!"
"Oh my— we're coming, just two minutes!"
Andy laughed loudly as Y/N hurriedly stepped out of his arms, face flushed as she entered the kitchen. He then crossed his arms and stood there for a second more; life gave him a second chance and he was, for sure, not going to mess it up this time.
A/N: I just realized Laurie might have come off as a bit of a... bad character in this one and for that I apologize, I'm sure she's very nice in the series. Thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!
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One World, One People
Bucky Barnes x Daughter!reader, Sam Wilson x Teen!reader
Warnings: Violence, fighting, mentions of gunshots, mentions of a dead body
Here you were again, not even hours after you landed back in New York. You and your dad were suiting up for what you hoped was the final battle between Karli and the Flag Smashers. You and him approached the entrance of the building where the GRC meeting was being held. This is Karli’s final target so she had to be close, which is exactly what your dad said to Sam over comms. The officers let you two through the roadblock and to the building’s entrance. A man followed you two before speaking, “Excuse, are you two supposed to be here?”
You two turned and you opened your mouth to respond but the man’s face pixelated and he pulled it off, revealing Sharron. You were glad that you looked over and the confused look on your dad’s face matched your own, “Relax, it’s me,” she said.
“Sharron what are you doing here?” your dad asked.
“Don’t worry. No one is looking for me,” she replied. She led you two over to the side and out of the way, “Hey Sam. Thought I’d get the band back together.”
“Thank you for doing this,” Sam said over the comms, “I know you risked a lot to come here.”
“I heard pardons aren’t all what they’re cracked up to be,” she said dryly.
“Depends on the therapist,” your dad responded.
“They’ll move on the building soon. Be ready you three,” Sam said.
The three of you started walking, scanning around in case there were Flag Smashers hanging around.
“Y/n, Bucky, Sharron, what’s it like on your end?” Sam asked.
“There’s nothing. It’s quiet,” you said.
“No one is moving towards the building,” Sharron said.
“Karli isn’t coming, she’s forcing them out,” Sam explained, “You guys have to do something. Don’t let them out of the building.”
The three of you entered the building and walked through the metal detector. You went first, leading the group with Bucky behind you and Sharron behind him. When Sharron walked through, the detector beeped, “Oops,” she said.
Your dad’s attention was on her for a second until he spotted one of them, “There’s one of them,” he said, “I’ll get the evac. Y/n clear the building and make sure there aren’t any others. They know what you look like so don’t get caught,” he waited until you nodded and took off down the corridor.
You only cleared one floor before Sam checked in on you, “How’s it going over there Y/n?”
“Good so far,” you said, entering a room quietly, “Scratch that,” you said, much more quietly.
“Y/n what does that mean?” your dad said.
“Give me one second,” you turned your comms off before fully stepping into the room, making your presence known, “Hello gentleman,” you said to the two Flag Smashers in front of you, “Wanna do this the hard or the even harder way?”
The men looked at each other before going towards you. You swerved to avoid the first man but the second was waiting and punched you in the face. You quickly recovered and kicked him in the legs, sweeping him to the floor and knocking him out. The man who you avoided came from behind you, a knife pulled out. You quickly turned with your own knife and stuck it in his thigh, making him drop his and collapse on the floor, “That was easy,” you muttered, turning your comms back on, “All good now.”
“Don’t turn those off again,” your dad said in a warning voice. He was scared that one of them took you and that’s why you went silent on them. His body relaxed a little, knowing you were as safe as you could be. He could fully focus on the target he was chasing.
You left the room and quickened your pace, seeing as your help would probably be needed soon. You were on your way back down to the entrance and out the building when your dad’s voice spoke over the comms, “Y/n I’m going to need you down here with me,” he said, “Now.”
“Got it,” you said, “On my way dad,” you sprinted through the hallways and down the staircases and off to your dad’s location.
You got there just in time to watch him flip over the concrete barricade and launch himself at the Flag Smasher, slamming him to the ground.
“Well that was badass,” you spoke, hanging off to the side.
“Not the time Y/n,” he said as he swung at the other man but he ducked in time.
“Right,” you mumbled, moving from your spot and helping your dad.
You two were too preoccupied with the fight that neither of you noticed Karli and her team pouring gasoline over the van and lighting it on fire, sending it in flames. Your dad lost focus and the Flag Smasher punched his leg, making him drop to the floor. Before landing another punch to your dad, you spun and kicked the man in the gut, making him fall on the ground.
Your dad got up from the ground and ran over to the van. He tried pulling on the door but it didn’t budge, “Y/n!” he yelled, wanting you to come over and help him. You ran over to him and helped him pull on the door but even with the two of you and your combined strength, it didn’t budge, “Stand back,” he said to you, pushing you so you were at least an arm’s length away from him. He started punching at the device that was stuck to the door, covering the seams so it was even harder to get open. He loosened the device before pulling on the door, finally getting it open.
You immediately went and helped everyone out of the van, telling people where to go and getting them out of the way. After everyone was out, Bucky took off to where the other Flag Smashers were winning in a fight against John. Even though you really didn't want to help him out, you didn’t want them to win so you joined in the fight. You ducked and rolled out of the way of the parking meter that was being passed around between them. They swung it at you and you stepped back. It felt like you were fencing with them. Except instead of a sword and safety gear, it was a metal pole and super soldiers.
Karli kept taking steps towards you, making you step backwards. You didn’t realize how close you were to the edge of the road until your foot slipped off the edge, making you fall and hit the ground below you.
You heard the sound of metal scraping against concrete and looked up, seeing your dad falling right above you. You rolled out of the way before he hit the ground. He spotted one of them jumping off, a heavy beam in his hand, ready to use. Bucky pulled you as close to him as he could and raised his metal arm above his head, letting it take the impact of the beam.
Your dad grabbed the beam and used it against the man, swinging it once and knocking him out cold, “You good?” he asked you, visually checking you for injuries.
“Yeah,” you panted out, “Can’t believe I just fell from that though,” you said, pointing to the ledge.
“Yeah? Trying falling off a moving train,” he said, patting you on the back.
“Not funny,” you said, hating the fact he brought that moment up. It was the beginning of everything. If he hadn’t fallen off that train, neither of you would have been taken by HYDRA in the first place.
“Sorry,” he said, walking to you and resting his hand on your head, smoothing some hair down in the process.
You heard a loud crash that made you and him both look up at where the sound came from, “Shit,” you mumbled, seeing the other van dangling over the ledge.
“Y/n go,” he said, “Now.”
“Are you going to try and stop it?” you asked. You didn’t want him to handle that alone. Sure he was strong, but was he that strong?
He nodded, “Go. I don’t want you getting hurt by accident.”
You nodded reluctantly and ran off, not really knowing where you should be going. You didn’t want to go far, not knowing if your help would be needed again. You hid behind a few crates until you heard cheering and clapping. You followed the sound back to where Sam, your dad, and Walker were.
“Nice suit cap!” you shouted, making your way over to them.
“You, out of all people bought into that bullshit?” Karli asked Sam in disbelief.
“I’m trying something new. You should also,” Sam responded.
All of a sudden, the sound of an explosion filled the area and smoke appeared all around you. The smoke clouded your vision, making it impossible to see. Your dad reached his arm out to try and get a hold of you. His hand grabbed the collar of your suit, enough reassurance you were still there.
Sam used the heat vision in his goggles to track down Karli and Batroc, “This way,” he said, taking off towards the tunnels. You followed the sound of him and John’s footsteps guiding you in the right direction.
Once you entered the tunnels, it was much easier to see. You followed behind Sam, your dad on the right of you and Walker on your left.
“We’re underground, Sharron,” your dad said into his comms, “The tunnel on Williams heading South.
Still using his goggles, Sam saw their steps went in different directions, “They split up here it looks like,” he said.
Before being told, Walker went left and took off, “I got him,” Bucky said, “You two stay together.”
You nodded and Sam led the way through the tunnels again. The two of you followed the path until you reached a fabric partition that led you to another large corridor. You two didn’t make it far into this part of the tunnels before two shots rang through the air, startling you and Sam.
“Stay here,” Sam instructed you. He ran off in the direction of the shots and disappeared from your vision. Once you knew he wasn’t going to turn around and see you, you took off, using your sense of direction and your gut to try and find your dad. You didn’t know if it was him or not but you couldn’t go the way Sam did otherwise he’d see you. You went back the way you came and back to the place where you split up. You followed that path him and Walker took the best you could until you found your dad.
The anxiety of the possibility of those shots being ones that went through your dad was distracting you. Several times you had to stop and even your breathing, wiping any tears that had fallen down your face. You couldn’t lose him again, not after all this.
Minutes had passed and you still didn’t find anyone. Your fear for your dad was starting to set in until you heard sirens from a distance. You picked up your pace from a jog to a sprint, stopping when you reached the light. Your eyes scanned through all the people. The cops who had a Flag Smasher each in their cuffs. You looked passed them until your eyes fell on him.
“Dad!” you shouted, catching his and John’s attention. When he turned and you saw his face, you ran over to him and collapsed into him, hugging him tightly and burying your face in his chest.
“Y/n? I thought you were with Sam?” he said, wrapping one of his arms around your back.
“I was but we heard gunshots. Sam told me to stay but I didn’t. I didn’t know if it was you,” you said, trying to keep your voice from breaking, “I was so scared. I thought it was you dad. I thought I lost you again.”
“You didn’t lose me Y/n. I’m right here,” he said. He moved his hand to your back, starting to rub circles.
“I didn’t know that though. I thought you were dead,” you said, your breathing slowly getting back to normal.
“It’s okay,” he said, “You’re okay. I’m okay. Let Sam take care of it now.”
You nodded but still clung to your dad. You were so close to losing him that you weren’t going to let go of him for a while. Bucky accepted that you weren’t going to let go of him so he walked slowly back up to the main street, with you attached to him like a koala.
Once you reached the main road, Bucky helped you sit up on top of one of the cop cars, knowing you needed to rest after the evening’s events. He leaned up against the door of the car and talked to you, anything to get your mind off of what was happening.
You heard the whirring from Sam’s suit before your dad and Walker did. You slapped him on the arm to get him to stop talking and pointed in Sam’s direction, carrying Karli in his arms. Bucky helped you off the car and the three of you walked over to where the rest of the crowd was standing.
Every single word Sam spoke struck you. Every word he spoke was true. As he finished his speech, the people began to walk away and the sea of reporters left. Sam walked over to where you and your dad were standing.
“Sorry I was texting so all I heard was black guy and stars and stripes,” you dad said jokingly, making Sam chuckle.
“Good job Cap,” you said.
You three continued walking until you spotted Sharron, holding gauze to her abdomen and sitting on the top of a cop car.
“Sharron?” Sam asked her, taking a step towards her.
“You’re blocking my light,” she said so Sam stepped away letting her have the light from the other cop cars back.
“We gotta get you to a hospital,” he said, concern laced in his voice.
You watched her expression and you knew it well. It was one you wore every single day. Stubbornness, “She won’t listen,” you said bluntly.
“It’s not the worst thing to happen to me all week,” she added.
“Told you,” you said, sending Sam a glance.
“Cap?”a voice spoke.
“Think he’s talking to you,” Sharron said, “I’m sorry for how things ended down there. For what it’s worth, that suit looks good on you.”
“Thanks,” Sam said.
“Alright can we get out of here?” Bucky asked nervously, ushering Sharron away with one hand so she wouldn’t be seen, and you with the other so you wouldn’t get separated again.
“I didn’t forget my promise Sharron,” Sam said before she was out of ear shot.
After all the chaos, you expected to go straight to the apartment and crash but Bucky had another plan. You climbed up the staircase to your floor but your dad stopped when you reached Yori’s apartment.
“Dad what are we doing here? I thought we were finally going home?”
“You go ahead, doll. I’ll be there in a bit. I have to do something,” he said, fishing the key to the apartment out of his pants pocket and handing it to you.
You thought about what he had to do at Yori’s until it hit you, “Dad.”
“What?” he asked softly.
“Let me stay with you for this,” you said. You tried to pull puppy dog eyes but your dad looked away from you and knocked on the door.
“This is my amends Y/n, not yours. I’m going by myself,” he said. You nodded, knowing no matter what you said, he wouldn’t let you. You leaned up against the wall next to the door and slid down it, waiting for him. Bucky accepted that this was where you would be so when Yori opened the door, he stepped inside and let the door close behind him, leaving you in the hallway.
You leaned your head against the wall in an effort to eavesdrop on the conversation. There was silence for a moment until you heard a shout and footsteps walk towards the door. It opened and you stood up, watching your dad leave the apartment and the door slam shut behind him. He had a solemn look on his face and he never looked you in the eyes. You wrapped your arms around him.
You looked up at him as the two of you started walking down the hallway. He had tears brimming in his eyes. You couldn’t imagine what was going through his head or how he was feeling. What he just did, took a type of strength you didn’t think you had in you. It was something only your dad had and you appreciated him even more now than you did before.
When you woke up the next morning, your dad was already up and waiting for you to get up, “What are you doing up so early?” you asked, sitting up from the couch.
“I know we just got back but we’re going again,” he said.
“Please not on another European action movie. I’m not sure my back can handle it,” you said as you stretched, small popping noises coming from your back, proving your point.
“No. It should be much more fun this time.”
Once you got dressed and out the door, you two took your normal path but your dad stopped once you reached Izzy’s, the restaurant. He stopped and looked through the window, seeing Yori and the waitress he had his date with, Leah. She smiled at him softly before turning and going back to her work. Bucky watched Yori for a second, making sure the older man was okay. You peered over his shoulder to see what he was looking at.
“He’ll be okay dad,” you said reassuringly, placing your hand on his arm, “I promise.”
Bucky looked down and smiled at you softly, nodding before stepping back from the window and continuing on.
Your dad apparently liked to surprise you and not tell you where you were going. You only found out when you landed and were greeted with the familiar Welcome to NOLA sign again.
On the way to Sam’s place, you had to quickly make a stop at a grocery store. Your dad wanted to stroll into the cookout without bringing anything, which you vehemently objected to. You made him stop and pick up something. Even a plate of cookies would be decent.
You waited in the truck while he went inside. He came back out a few minutes later with a clear plastic container in his hand. He opened your door and held the cake up for you to see, “Better?” he asked, setting it in your lap.
“Much,” you said. You picked up the container as your dad closed the door and walked to the driver’s side, climbing into his seat, “This actually looks really good.”
“It better. It cost a lot more than a cake should,” he grumbled, starting the truck. You laughed at him before turning up the radio and rolling the window down.
You reached the docks and saw loads of people gathered around and talking. You got out of the truck and walked around it, joining your dad at his side. He took the cake for you and started towards Sam.
You spotted Sam’s nephews heading towards you. The older one, Cass, started to pretend to fight your dad, who played along, careful to not drop the cake. The younger one, AJ, wasn’t going to let you off the hook so easily and he attempted to tackle you to the ground. You stumbled to the ground lightly, laughing and gently throwing the kid off of you. You stood up and took a fight stance playfully, which he copied, making you laugh again.
Bucky glanced over his shoulder as he set the cake down on the picnic table in front of Sarah. He watched as you were going back and forth between both boys, either attempting to chase one or fight one. He smiled, knowing it had been over seven decades since you had interactions with anyone close to your own age. It was nice for him to see you having somewhat normal friendships now, not just with a bunch of Avengers and superheroes.
After hanging out and talking for a while with AJ and Cass, you could tell there was something on their minds, “What’s up you two? You look like you’re planning something?”
The two brothers looked at each other before Cass spoke up, “Can your dad carry things from his arm? Like if we were to hang off of it, could he hold us?” he asked.
“Hmm I don’t know. Why don’t we go find out?” you stood up from the ground and looked for your dad. He was at a picnic table, talking to Sarah, “Dad!” you shouted.
“What!” he shouted back, copying your tone.
“Question for you. Can you carry all three of us,” you motioned to you, Cass, and AJ, “With your metal arm?
Bucky looked at the boys then back to you, “What are you? Five?” he joked, already sticking his arm out for you three to try.
“Obviously,” you said. You let the other two wrap their arms around his arm before doing the same yourself. Bucky then lifted his arm up so you were all off the ground, feet dangling.
As the sun was starting to set over the water, and the hanging lights started to turn on, you looked around for your dad. You spotted him and Sam near the edge of the water. You didn’t want to get up from your spot, so you looked around for something you could throw at him to get his attention. Your eyes landed on an empty ketchup bottle. You picked it up and chucked it, throwing it right in the back of your dad’s head.
He and Sam both turned around. Bucky picked up the bottle and looked for whoever threw it. He was expecting it to be one of Sam’s nephews, meaning to hit their uncle not him. He caught a glimpse of your face and knew immediately that it was you who threw it at him. He threw it back to you and you caught it, “I’m cold,” you said.
“You’re cold? That’s why you threw a ketchup bottle at me?” he asked.
“Uh, yeah. Why else?” you asked like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Bucky looked over at Sam, “Guess I gotta go. Dad duty,” he said.
“Have fun with that,” Sam replied.
Bucky laughed and patted Sam on the back before walking towards you. You stood up and were expecting your dad to walk to you normally. Before you knew it, he was running at you and before you could react, he was at your side and starting to tickle you. You tried to move away from him but he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, making you shriek.
“Dad! Put me down!” you shouted, trying hard not to laugh too much.
“Wait? You said you were cold. Heat rises so you should be nice and warm up there,” he said casually, ignoring your continued pleads to put you down. He took one more glance at Sam and the scenery behind him before turning and walking away.
@sbsbrr14 @bonkybarnes107 @sapphireplums @xbuckyspetx @vanteguccir @anakinmcu @play-morezeppelin @multiplums @taylormobley
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Burn The Witch 20 - Final Warning [Bucky Barnes x Reader]
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: Enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.
Summary: Everyone has a past.
Not that you had ever been in a situation where you wanted to come clean to a target and blow your own cover, but you could easily say that this was one of the hardest things you had ever been through.
And considering your career, you had been through a lot.
You had no idea how to even begin the conversation, and you were pretty sure that it would completely ruin every chance of happiness you would have with him, every chance of a future together but—
You had to keep him safe. You owed him that much.
Considering your whole relationship had been nothing but a lie.
You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard your name being called and you looked up, still holding the empty milkshake container.
“Your boyfriend is here with the Captain America,” Tara winked at you, “Is he single?”
“No Y/N, I’m trying to steal your man but letting you know beforehand. Yes, Sam!”
“Um—“ you tried to pull your thoughts together, “I’m not sure, I can ask.”
“Don’t make it obvious though,” she pointed at you and walked away. You let out a sigh, looking down at the empty container, then fixed your apron and walked out of the kitchen into the main area. You could feel the warmth in your stomach as soon as you saw Bucky and Sam in one of the booths, and you went under the counter to approach them.
“Hey,” you pecked him on the lips and sat beside him, “Hi Sam.”
“Hey Y/N,” he greeted you as Bucky entwined his fingers with yours, “Anyways, as I was saying. I can look into her but unless you give me more information, we’ll hit a dead end.”
Your heart skipped a beat as you looked between them and Bucky thought for a moment.
“Maybe Sharon might help.”
“I mean she can try—“
“Who are you talking about?” you asked and Sam grinned.
“Bucky’s spy friend.”
“She’s not my friend,” he said almost instantly and your stomach dropped.
“I just want to learn who she works for,” he said, “Just in case.”
“In case of what?” you managed to ask and Bucky shifted his weight like he was uncomfortable.
“In case we need it.”
“But why would you need it?”
To that, he looked like he had no answer and Sam cleared his throat, grabbing his phone.
“Well, I’d better talk to Sharon,” he said, standing up from his seat, “To see what we can find. I’ll see you guys later.”
With that, he walked out of the shop and you turned to Bucky, your brows raised.
“So,” you said, “What’s happening?”
“No what you’re thinking right now,” he said quickly, “It’s just… I ran into her. Again.”
You actually wanted to find out how much information he would give you, so you decided to push.
“Oh? I didn’t know you went on a mission.”
“I didn’t, she broke into my house.”
You blinked a couple of times, staring at him as if you were confused. “I’m sorry?”
“I have no idea how she knows where I live, but—“
“She was in your apartment.”
“For like five minutes,” he added, “And she….she told me something.”
If he kept this up, maybe you had a chance to convince him to leave the country for a while by using your cover even if you couldn’t convince him by being yourself.
“What?” you asked him and he paused for a moment, then shook his head.
“It’s not important.”
“It sounds like it is,” you tried again and he cleared his throat.
“Nah it’s just…. Usual secretive spy stuff.”
“But are you safe?” you insisted and he smiled, pressing your hand to his lips, his fingers still entwined with his.
“Of course darling.”
No. No you’re not safe.
You bit inside your cheek, trying to find something, anything to tip him off without blowing your cover but you came up empty except for one thing.
You had to tell him. You had no idea how you would do it, and you had no idea how he would react but you couldn’t—
You couldn’t just sit there and let them take him and blame him for things he quite possibly hadn’t done. Knowing the General, he would pull every trick in the game to convince your superiors that he was dangerous.
And Bucky was one of the very few people you knew who didn’t deserve that.
But how could you do it? You knew it would mean losing him, you were quite sure that he would never trust you again, nor would he ever want to see you again. Not only that, but if the General found out anything about you tipping him off, you would be killed, that was for sure.
As he always said, actions had consequences.
“Don’t look so worried,” he said with a chuckle, snapping you out of your thoughts, “I promise you, everything will be alright.”
For some reason, you were having a hard time believing it but you tried to smile, then leaned in to kiss him.
“Yeah,” you managed to say, “Of course it will.”
By the time you were done at work, you were way too tired but it had nothing to do with the goddamn milkshake shop. You half wished you could ask Keith or Chloe about what to do, but you decided you actually needed to come up with a plan before getting them involved.
If you were going to get them involved, you had to make sure they would be safe even if you wouldn’t be, but it didn’t mean the lack of plan at hand wasn’t making you panic. Even the mind blowing sex wasn’t enough to put you to sleep, not when you kept thinking about how it would end soon.
Either way, you were going to lose him.
The thought of it made the tears burn your eyes but you rolled over in bed and looked down at him. He looked so peaceful without nightmares torturing his sleep and you sniffled before leaning in to press your lips into his dark hair, inhaling his scent. He moved a little, letting out a content sigh and you pulled back to grab your dressing gown, then made your way to the kitchen as silently as possible. After grabbing the wine bottle, you went to the bathroom to get in the bathtub, the cold surface against your warm skin giving you goosebumps.
You were being so stupid. Even more stupid than a Victorian lady risking it all for dick.
You cussed under your breath and took a huge swig of the wine, leaning your head back, desperately trying to find an idea to help you get out of this thing unscathed.
Or not to break his heart in the process.
By the time you had finished the bottle, you were still clueless but alcohol was slowly taking away the panic pulsing through you. You kept your eyes on the wall, tracing the rim of the bottle and only when Bucky knocked on the door that you realized he was awake.
Wow, the spy in you would be so disappointed if it were any other time.
“Hey,” you called out, “You can come in.”
He opened the door and his brows furrowed as soon as he saw you in the bathtub holding a wine bottle.
“Hey,” he said, “Everything alright?”
You closed your eyes for a moment, then nodded and looked up at him.
“I couldn’t sleep,” you said, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said and approached you to crouch down, “Nightmares?”
“Something like that,” you mumbled, still holding the bottle tight, “What time is it?”
You heaved a sigh and he reached out to brush your hair behind your ear.
“Want to talk about it?” he asked softly and that made the burning in your eyes even worse, but you cleared your throat and shook your head.
“Did you know….” You trailed off, waving the empty bottle, “In some cultures people drink at funerals?”
“Nope,” he said, “I didn’t. Whose funeral is it then?”
“Mine I think.”
He tilted his head, stealing a look at the bottle before smiling at you softly. You were aware that he thought it was just the wine and nightmares speaking, and you were way too tired to let him know, to explain-
To lose whatever it was between you.
“You’re not dead, sweetheart.”
“Not yet,” you managed to say, and he took a deep breath.
“Don’t say that,” he said, his voice low as if the thought was too much for him to handle and you let out a bitter chuckle.
“Alright, I won’t.”
“Do you want to come back to bed?”
You shook your head, wiping at your eyes.
“Okay,” Bucky said, “Is it okay if I stay here then?”
“Yeah,” you sniffled, turning the bottle in your hands. His fingers caressed over your hair and the action was so soothing that for a moment you felt yourself getting lost in the feeling before you turned your head to look into his blue eyes.
“Do you think that—“ you paused for a moment, “Do you think we could have a happy ending?”
“A happy ending?” he repeated, confusion flashing over his features and you licked your lips.
“Yeah, do you think….Do you think we could have that house with the red door and the big garden and the treehouse?”
A gentle smile curled his lips and he nodded.
“Yeah,” he said, “Absolutely. And if I’m remembering it correctly, I was told there would be a hammock between an apple tree and a peach tree.”
“And a dog.”
“And a dog,” he repeated, “And kids.”
You could swear your heart hurt.
“I’m going to tell you something but you’re not allowed to say it back,” you said, “Not…not yet anyway. Not right now.”
He tilted his head, “Okay. What is it?”
“…I think I’m in love with you,” you admitted, your heart beating like crazy as you wiped your eyes again. A light crossed his eyes but you couldn’t even decipher what it was, instead you reached out to hold his hand, leaning your head back again.
“Why am I not allowed to say it back?” he asked and a painful smile pulled at your lips.
“Just because,” you said, “And I’m—I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asked and you opened your mouth, then the fear crashed down on you so you just shrugged your shoulders.
“Can we stay like this for tonight?”
He thought for a moment, then leaned in to press a kiss on your temple.
“Of course darling,” he said, “If that’s what you want, let’s stay like this.”
The next morning, you woke up with a clear decision in mind.
You had to tell Bucky and you had to get him out of the country before the General could lay a hand on him. You even had a speech in mind, but in the morning Bucky had an appointment with his psychiatrist so he had left early. You didn’t have much time anyway, you had to go to the base as well but it didn’t mean you were as calm as you would like to be.
You had to make sure not to make the General suspicious of you until Bucky was out but unfortunately, you hadn’t thought about your best friends.
Keith took one look at you when he saw you, then checked whether anyone was watching you before he placed his coffee cup on the desk and grabbed your wrist to pull you into the hallway.
You crossed your arms and shrugged. “What? What are you talking about?”
“Something happened,” he said, “Tell me and I’ll help you fix it.”
“Y/N, I know you better than you think I do,” he said through his teeth, “Is your cover blown? Is Barnes suspicious of something?”
You clenched your jaw, then shook your head.
“Then what is it?” he said, “Chloe says the mission will be over soon and you’ll probably become a handler, I thought you’d be—“
“That’s the problem,” you interrupted him, “The mission will be over soon.”
Keith shrugged, “Okay. So? Isn’t that what you wanted?”
He pulled his brows together, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Maybe Bucky doesn’t deserve to be dragged here and have shit pinned on him. Again.”
He stared at you for a couple of seconds before a look of realization crossed his eyes and he ran a hand over his face.
“You’re not serious.”
“That guy’s dick game can’t be that good. If you’re willing to put your life in danger just because he’s good at sex, I promise you there are a bunch of people who can fu—“
“It’s not because of that.”
“Oh it’s not? Then what is this about?”
“It’s not about anything, I’m just saying he doesn’t deserve it.”
“Y/N, if the General finds out you’ve gone soft—“
“I haven’t gone soft!”
“You know what happens to the spies who fall for their targets,” he whispered through his teeth, “No matter how much you want to—to put this behind you, to run away with him—“
“I’m not naïve,” you spat, “I know I’d never be able to run away. This is not a fairytale, I’m not going to walk off into the sunset with Bucky. He will never forgive me or want to be with me once he learns who I am.”
“It doesn’t mean he deserves this,” you said, “He tries to help people, and we will make people see him as dangerous.”
He shook his head, heaving a sigh.
“He’s a good person, Keith,” you said, “Unlike you and me, he’s a good person.”
You turned your head when you heard the General’s assistant calling out your name.
“He’s ready for you.”
“Thanks,” you said and took a step but Keith grabbed you by the arm.
“Don’t tell him anything,” he whispered, “We’ll—we’ll figure something out, okay? Trust me, just don’t tell the General anything.”
You bit inside your cheek and nodded.
“We can talk about it later,” you said and walked to the General’s office. He was waiting for you behind his desk and looked up from the file when he heard you come in.
“Y/N,” he said, “Hello.”
“Sir,” you greeted him and sat down on the edge of the seat. “Hello.”
“I’ve been looking over your file,” he said, a small smile appearing on his lips, “And I gotta tell you, it’s….it’s very impressive.”
“Thank you sir.”
“Of all the missions we’ve put you on…” he said, “You haven’t failed. Ever.”
You felt like throwing up, but managed to smile back.
“You’ve taught me well.”
He let out a chuckle. “I’d like to take all the credit, but you and I both know it wasn’t just me, Y/N. You have a talent.”
Talent for killing and using people.
“Your father would be proud of you.”
Your eyes snapped up to his, that familiar ache at your heart making you sit up straighter.
“Growing up without him was very difficult for you,” he said, “I know that. I tried to help as much as I could and trust me, you’re like a daughter to me but I also know that deep down you waited for him to come back. Always.”
You rolled your shoulders back, trying to keep your head high.
“I’m not waiting for him to come back.”
“I’m not. He left me.”
He heaved a sigh and leaned in, his eyes locked into yours.
“I’m sorry you have to find out this way but your father didn’t leave you,” he said, making you frown. “The Winter Soldier killed him.”
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Call It A Confession (Epilogue)
Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Summary: After the events of Madripoor, there’s something that you still need to say to Bucky. Maybe in Delacroix, you’ll finally get the opportunity.
Alternate Endings. Smut. Alcohol. Jealousy. Explicit Language.
WARNINGS: Drinking. Mentions of Sex.
CALL IT A NIGHT - TUMBLR MASTERLIST
CLINTS-LUCKY-ARROW MAIN MASTERLIST
Word Count: 1.7k
Likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated.
A/N: Here we go. The series finale for Bucky Barrnes! No smut here, but I may write some more smut oneshots for him in the future.
**If you are new to the ‘Call It A Night’ series, this is a fic with alternate storylines. This chapter is Bucky Barnes’ finale. Sam Wilson’s storyline is also completed, while Helmut Zemo’s will last for a few more chapters.
To read the previous pieces and follow the layout of the story, you can visit the masterlist here, and see what else is contained in the series.
I hope that you like it!
There’s something about Delacroix.
Maybe it’s the warm sunlight. The way that it illuminates the world in an ethereal golden glow, seeping into your bones to simmer against your skin. Or perhaps the fresh breeze of the wind, and the blissful rush as it infiltrates your lungs. It could be a lot of things. The taste of lukewarm beer, the warm welcome of the people who live there, or the sound of their laughs. Sam’s joyous chuckle mixing with Bucky’s huffs of amusement, which is more mirth than you’ve ever heard him display.
It could be one of those things, or a few of them, or perhaps maybe even all.
Whatever the reason, you don’t care. Not when that usual frown is absent, and something about him just seems lighter. As if the weight of the world has finally toppled from his shoulders, and he can just push it all off for a little while. Be free in a way that he hasn’t been in quite some time. Maybe not even during that night in Madripoor, the one that you hold so dear.
No. There's something about this place. He is just able to let loose here in the way that you've always wanted him too, and you couldn't be happier to see it. Especially not when he provides you such a fine view.
Slightly sweating in the Louisiana heat, you raise the bottle to your lips and take a quick sip. Unlike the rest of the beers in the cooler, this has been in your hand for some time now. More than long enough for the rays of sun to infiltrate the liquid and warm it up. It tastes a little bitter going down, and a small shudder escapes you in response. Catching the grimace, Bucky straightens, pulling away from the decking plank that he was in the middle of replacing, and tilts his head playfully.
The words that fall from his curved lips are teasing. “Are you planning on lending a hand, or are you just going to sit there and look pretty instead?”
You can’t help but chuckle, raising the bottle in a pointed salute. “It’s an important job. Someone’s got to do it.” Behind him, Sam shakes his head in mock-disapproval. Both sets of amusement eyes rest on your face as you continue teasingly, gesturing to the shit chest down at your feet. “Besides, these beers aren’t going to drink themselves, and you two are taking far too long.”
“Careful,” Sam warns, nodding at the now-almost empty beer. There’s a small smile on his lips, intent to show that his words aren’t fully serious. “We don’t want a repeat of your drunk ass in Madripoor.”
“Speak for yourself,” Bucky interjects. “I’m happy to relive Madripoor.”
Due to the angle, Sam cannot see the swift wink that he directs your way. You attempt to hide your responding grin in another gulp of tepid alcohol. Sam doesn’t know. Not yet.
Or so you think, until he pointedly interrupts. “As if you don’t most nights.”
“Yeah,” he continues, sarcasm lacing his tone. “I know that the two of you have been hooking up. Whatever it is that you’re doing. I’m not blind to all the little looks, and I am for sure not deaf.”
Both of you freeze. Your widened gaze fastens on Bucky’s, silently screaming a question. ‘Did you tell him?!’ His own startled eyes reflect the same sentiment. 'No.'
Mute, both of you turn your attention to Sam. He stands there, just behind Bucky, with his arms folded and a knowing smile on his face. Guilt rises thick in your chest. After everything, you hadn’t wanted him to find out like this. Sam deserved better.
Fumbling, you can’t help but try to explain. “Sam, we would have told you but it just-”
With a wave, he cuts you off. As always, he is more than understanding. Both chivalrous, kind, and entirely too understanding.
“-Didn’t seem like the right time,” he smiles. “I get it. I’m happy for you both. Really.” A slight pause lingers in the air. Neither you nor Bucky quite know what to say, and so Sam just continues. “To be clear, this doesn’t mean that Barnes gets canoodling breaks, though.”
Your laugh rings into the air. “I’m fine with that.”
Relief bubbles in your chest. There’s no less warmth in Sam’s gaze than there was back in Madripoor, but the type of heat has changed. He recognises that your choice has been made. That it is Bucky, and that there’s no going back. It’s not something that he would ever hold against you, and you can’t help but be so thankful that he’s your best friend, and that after so long, you both have come to the realisation that it’s all that you two will ever be in this lifetime.
It’s time to let go of the doubts and uncertainty that lingered in the past, because your future lies in the man standing right next to him. All the same, you can’t help but be certain that Sam will still be there, right beside you both, and the three of you will face it together. Some bonds are too strong to break.
That thought in mind, you motion for them both to wait - to keep their attention on you - before swiftly downing the remnants of your beer. Two sets of eyes track your movement as you flip open the lid to the cooler and retireve another three. Grasping the bottle opener, you make practised work of the caps. They pop off, releasing a float of cold steam from underneath, and then you are standing. The old planks of the decking creek underneath your feet as you cross over to meet your companions.
Sam takes the first bottle that you offer, and Bucky seizes the second. A small thrill runs down your body as his fingers brush against yours while retrieving it. The contact makes you think of Madripoor, of standing before him in Sharon’s guest bedroom while stitching his wound, and just how much has changed since then. How every night since you’ve snuck in to wherever he sleeps, and let him hold you under the cover of darkness. Felt both the burning caress of his skin, and the cool touch of metal against your body. Heard the whisper of his adoration against your ear as he fucks you, murmuring all the while that he loves you.
It’s enough to make you want to drag him below deck and take him there, in that rusted engine room.
You have to remind yourself not to get flustered. That Sam is here too, and it’s not appropriate. And so, you distract yourself with a fumbling cheers, before taking another deep swallow of beer. The others follow suit, although Bucky’s eyes still linger upon your face as he tips the bottle back into that smirking mouth.
The rest of the day flits past. You alternate between helping them with work, and taking extended breaks to down the rest of the beer supply. All the same, it’s hard to get drunk when you are mostly sweating it out. Thankfully, the heat diminishes slightly as the sun begins to sink lower in the sky. Dust bathes the world in a brilliant glimmer.
Sam breaks off to seek out Sarah, leaving yourself and Bucky alone on the deck. He is standing by the rail, both hands clamped on the side of the boat as he watches the sunset. Your eyes trace the profile of his face, drinking in the sight of him. He looks content. Utterly at peace. Wrapped in the rich twilight and swathed in the softening Louisiana heat, a realisation occurs.
This is it. This is the moment that you were waiting for.
You are drawn forward, as if some invisible force is reeling you in. The pounding of your heart is audible within your ears. Planks creak underfoot as you cross the deck. Bucky shoots you a small smile as you come to a stop next to him, mirroring his stance as you lean in against the railing and turn your gaze outward across the water. Silence stretches out for a few long moments as neither of you speak.
His arm lifts, draping around your shoulder. Even this casual touch sends tingles down your body. A reminder that this is real, and it’s stronger than anything you’ve ever felt before. Than anything you’d ever feel again. As you lean into him, revelling in the reassuring pressure of his side against yours, something within whispers that it is time. Small smile growing on your lips, you realise that the inner voice sounds a lot like Steve.
He’d want this. The two of you. Somehow you just know it.
“Bucky?” The murmur lifts into the breeze. He turns attentively, a brilliant smile lighting his handsome face. Looking at him, your heart swells three sizes and threatens to burst from your chest. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, nervousness building even though you already know that he feels the same. But at last, the time feels right to finally say it back. “I love you.”
He stiffens as the words wash over him, arm stiffening atop your shoulders. Those deep blue eyes rove over your face - a little confused and a tad lost - but slowly, happiness starts to creep in. His other hand - vibranium and glinting - slides underneath your chin, angling your face up to meet his gaze.
There’s something desperate in them, conveyed in his tone as he quietly responds. “Do you really mean that?”
Your fingers rise to grasp hold of those that stroke your cheek, lifting them off to the side and down to hang at your side. Your grin grows a little wider as they carefully entwine. He flinches slightly, still not used to how accepting you are about his arm. That uncertainty to his look sets something aflame within your chest, and your whole being aches with an uncontrollable yearning.
God. You love him.
More than words could ever say.
But all the same, you have to use them to make it clear. To provide him with the reassurance that he needs, and to finally say your piece.
A small chuckle accompanies your answer. “Of course, I do.”
He must see it in your eyes. Maybe hear it in your tone. That bated disbelief slowly morphs into a warm acceptance. That full grin that you love so much tugs his lips wide, and then he is bending down to press his mouth feverently to yours.
As his kiss burns through you, there’s only one thought ringing through your mind. This is it.
A/N: Well. There we go. Bucky’s final piece. They get their happily ever after. I hope that you enjoyed! Thank you for all of the support on his chapter, and the rest of the story.
To see what else has happened in the series, you can check out the masterlist here and use the link at the end of the post to sign up to my taglist.
As usual, likes, comments, and reblogs are truly appreciated!
Call It A Night/Bucky Taglist: @221b-skywalker @mindlostin5oldiers @sharksausages @missedregrets @devilswaldorf @whoreforsamwilson @delicioustrashsouldiplomat @sunsetmando @multiyfandomgirl40 @moonstuffsteve @rax-writes @slytherwanda @lostghostgirl94 @lxdyred @your-pixels-are-showing @zaynzierulez @the-lil-spud @noavengers @war-in-time @herbscottie67 @evangeline-perry @piggyinthesea @the-wayward-daughter @ringofsecrets @ajeff855 @amelialistree @cable-kenobi @auroresce @ashamed23 @harami-mami @drarrysreddie @starstruckforyou @victias @zemosugarbaby @theclonesdeservedbetter @casualcursing @allhailkingboba @fandomess-x2 @trinsghost @the-royal-kiki @jewelsrocks99 @swimmingsloths @az-alvilag-ironovendeke @louve-morningstar @t0nystank @shitexcuseofausername @depressedpolishgirl @stephyra @lorosette @summersimmerus @natashadeservedbetter @estellamarz @giggles75th @im-wlkn-here @shannonnicoleee @peculiarity @chelseaxaz @mssbridgerton @silverqueen28 @hard-to-be-the-bard @peculiar-monstar @winterrach @huffleruffplant @andy-rocks @ally22042000 @sinister-sleep @robinhollister @cvnnamon-girl @tryxter-in-the-pantry @bucxysbarnes @supreme-evil-hottie @harmonyf123 @rogersangel @batch-baddie @estrela-rogers @spookyanabarnes @jardinsecos @agirlwithejournal @Boundless—beauty @flyforeverfree @idynasty @pedrosgirlx @beautiful-delirium @blue-moon221 @juliatje22 @janakt @Hibiscusgardenia @alagaesian-bookdragon @avengersofmischief @burnalley @niki-is-a-thing @chedda98 @topgirl17 @aestheticallywinchester @fandom-freak-16 @fandom-princess-forevermore @littlezombie666 @afraid-to-be-me @narisjournal-blog @shellita09 @0ghostwriter0 @clxste @captainsherlockwinchester110283 @interstellarmesswrites @hoebrowsalad @mrjeanswaifu221b @bruhlsbitxh @iamtheonewhocares @viviace @punemy-spotted @childishlittlebeer @stevieintheimpala @deliciously-nerdy @thesunflowersutra @uss-lesbian @greeneyedblondie44 @reejero @lustful-w0nders @kellymcginley @auroresce @thebookisbtr @deanhisbaby @justinkyloscase @katsufairies @adoringdanvers @make-the-dead-love @stephlent @aureliomoon @cosmic-lavender @jane-dough @hb8301 @trashywritestrash @6BuckMe9 @lostdeidamia @lizzy-95 @perico04 @taisha124 @MsClifford @emmi-emrys-petrelli @liz-owl @spookyrarl @godblessthegoths @the-jess-life @julyvegan @marvel-ingatbucky @alltoofunny @lilith-blackrose
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Quotes from Aftermath // 28
Leaping to your feet, you were after him, but not before that flash of red, white, and blue cut you off again.
“Ghost! Stand down! Stop!”
“Now is not the time to play fuckin’ frisbee,” you snapped with a hiss, sweeping your hand down and swiping the shield away from you. As it clattered to the ground, you were jumping through the burning remnants of an SUV.
| Battle Scarred : Aftermath | »Darke15
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reacting to tfatws as seb’s significant other
sebastian stan headcanon
mild profanity, thanks for reading ! :)
you feel very strongly about this show
basically it’s you screaming “KISS YOU IDIOTS” at sam and bucky on screen 99,9% of the time
it’s embarrassing to say the least but hey it’s what you feel
and sebastian adores it
literally the whole time he’ll sit there not watching the show but watching you
and you find it lowkey creepy but you’re too engrossed to care
and one friday when you just burst into tears he was horrified
but it was just you sad that they weren’t together
and you PASSED AWAY when bucky swooped in with that shop-bought cake to hug sam’s nephews
your eyes WIDENED
and you turned to sebastian and you screamed very unattractively
but he just laughed
and your heart rate was SO DAMN HIGH
and you gripped his arm so aggressively he winced but you couldn’t care less
lmao it was an event
and you HATED sarah for no reason except for bucky hitting on her
istg you’d SPIT at that tv when she was on
“wtf bitch he’s your brother’s”
and sebastian would die laughing
you’d just scoff and flip her off
and in the last episode you just cried 98% of the time you were so sad it ended
and afterwards you facetimed anthony mackie to passionately convince him about sam and bucky
and anthony would 100% agree but blame seb for not letting them get together (?)
and you’d photobomb seb’s zoom promo meetings just to say “sambucky forever” then peace out bitches
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[x] // requester: anonymous // request: here
You steadily picked your way to the bar and, fortunately, found an empty seat next to a well dressed stranger. You smiled absentmindedly at him as you plopped down, turning your phone over on the bar to block the barrage of incoming text messages and wiggled your fingers towards the bartender, "A martini, please."
"Right away, ma'am," he replied and scuttled to the job.
As you took a sip of your martini, you scanned for familiar faces. Unfortunately, no one caught your eye. No one but a friend who happened to be staring off into the distance, waving at you from afar. Out of the blue, you caught yourself walking towards the sound of his laugh, thinking to yourself what he finds so hilarious. As I got closer, her aroma was distinct; a sweet smell of roses and vodka, it intrigued me - he intrigued me.
“Hey, I didn't expect a masterspy to be at a party like this,” he said rather sarcastically.
“Well, you should have known better, Barnes. Besides, you have just blown my cover,” you crooned, playing along as the corners of your lips curled up.
Chuckling in return, he made room for you to sit down beside him. Come to think of it, coming to Sam's party made both of you utterly delighted, but after a hard week at the compound, you just wanted some rest. So the two of you stared at the people for a while, trying to relax as a heavy blanket of silence spread fell.
Breaking the silence, you laughed just to make him whip his head to face you. "I don't know why I'm even here. I'd better be off to rest. It's been a pretty rough week."
Getting to his feet steeply, he asked nervously, "Y'know what? I can give you a lift. I mean if you want to...not that I want to. No! Yes! Ugh!"
You almost choked on your martini, but at the same time couldn't fight off your – albeit perplexed – smile as you raised an eyebrow “Barnes, are you trying to flirt with me?"
He shrugged and looked at you tenderly, "I had to try."
Blushing, you nodded. "Sure, you had to."
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