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#bucky barnes fic angst
lovelybarnes · 2 years
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hopeless- b. barnes
pairings: bucky barnes x reader, natasha romanoff, steve rogers, tony stark. oc warnings: kidnap, torture, reader is threatened, rejection, ANGST about: request! “where bucky nd reader have a big argument nd then she storms out in the middle of the night leading to her being kidnapped. Then the whole time she thinks bucky isn't coming for her due to the fight” a/n: phew this took a hot minute. my longest fic. do not like the ending, but i hope you enjoy!!
bucky’s smile is wide as he observes you flit about your room, a silly twinkle in his eyes while they observe your exaggerated thinking gesture, obviously dramatic in your search for his next book to read. he leans against your wall, amused by your pulled features as they contemplate two different books: one red and well-loved and one blue and weathered.
“hmm, do you want something sad and romantic that has lines that make me doubt that i’ll ever find love,” you begin, raising the blue book higher. “or something classic and sweet and scary?” you continue, shaking the red one.
“how could you doubt you’ll find love?” bucky wonders aloud then, and you turn to your bookshelf again just to get away from the intensity of his gaze. 
you shrug, unsure of how to respond, busying yourself with putting one of the books away.
“it’s you,” bucky continues, stressing the pronoun as if its implication is obvious. “you’ll get the best love. the pure and mushy type.”
the lazy shapes your fingers are rubbing into the spine of your book slow as you soak in the implications that bucky’s words carry with them. when you force yourself to meet his eyes, you’re unsurprised to find them on you already, but it’s startling to meet their depth, the way they were willing you to turn around without your knowledge. you begin to walk toward him, feigning your purpose as handing him the blue book.
“yeah?” you find yourself replying as you step forward slowly, searching for something deeper in bucky’s face as it breaks out in a smile.
“yeah,” bucky agrees with dead-set certainty. “the universe would be insane for giving you anything less.”
you smother the bashful smile that fights to make only its whisper appear on your face, holding back the urge to look at the ground in overwhelming emotions due to the entirety of the situation—the implications that you’d thought ridiculous of you to even consider seeming more concrete with the honesty of the words that bucky promises to you, making his eyes gleam just a little bit brighter with an unbridled determination that you’d never seen before.
“anything less than what?” you ask, testing the waters simply for reassurance that might push you over an edge you aren’t sure you want to cross.
“anything less than what you deserve,” bucky clarifies. “the sweet, sappy love with the notes and pictures and gifts and safety and never letting you forget how loved you are. the basics.”
you cock your head at him, trying not to drown in the wishes you had listed long ago that tumble from bucky’s mouth. 
“oh,” you whisper, eyes flickering to the polaroids you have around your room, adorned with small, smudged words written messily in pen by bucky when he’d given them to you. there are post-its scrawled with his handwriting taped to your walls and hidden in a box underneath your bed. you can’t help but see the parallels between his explanation of the love you “deserve” and the love he constantly rains over you.
the attraction you’d begun to harbor for him yearns more at the possibility of it being returned—because here he is, laying it out for you with his reflection displayed on the plans.
“the universe would be insane to not give you that,” bucky goes on, the absolute resolve that you can make out in his words staggering. “anyone overall would be insane not to love you.”
there’s a twinkle in his eye that you’d grown used to, yet you observe when you look up at him again, what you were trying to do forgotten as you search his features. he doesn’t seem to acknowledge how deeply you scrutinize the softened lines of his face, the gentle lift of his lip as he looks at you.
you swallow, beginning to step toward him. “really?”
“yeah,” bucky replies like it’s obvious, nearly nonchalant but it fails with how deep his intent runs. 
you realize the space that separated you wasn’t all that large when you find yourself closer to him than you thought before, and your breath stalls, completely caught up in the moment. bucky doesn’t seem too different, dilated pupils unmoving from your face, tugging you closer without a single touch.
“oh,” you breathe out, goosebumps rising on your skin when bucky puffs out a gentle laugh, his hand reaching to set on your jaw.
“what?” he asks curiously, his thumb pressing soft shapes into your cheek.
it’s like honey, his touch, the severity of his stare clicking something inside of you that you’d been so afraid to open.
suddenly, you’re certain. because surely nobody can look at you the way bucky is looking at you—touch you with the care he treats you with, tell you all the things he whispers in your ear without reflecting the feelings you have for him.
“i love you,” you blurt, tangled in a breath with the relief of the admission finally meeting your tongue, watching as something passes through his face—surprise, at first, and then there’s a brief indication of relief, just a flash, gone quickly enough to let you believe it was simply a figment of your imagination. his fingers stop moving on your face, and suddenly his features harden, pulling his touch away entirely.
there are alarm bells ringing in your brain, because this is not going the way you’d convinced yourself it would. he was supposed to smile and kiss you clumsily, mumbling out that he loved you too and you would say obviously and he would laugh.
not removing himself from your reach, staring holes into your head, red bubbles of frustration darkening his eyes.
“what the fuck?” he snaps. and the words are so sudden and sharp that they nearly make you flinch, spine straightening with a velocity that jumbles your words with the speed at which they try to tumble from your lips. he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. 
“you what?” he demands, his tone foreign to your ears coming from the same lips that have never once let words edged with a raised tone slip past. bucky doesn’t speak to you like that. bucky doesn’t harden and bucky never raises his voice. not at you, never at you.
you swallow harshly, trying to remember the bucky that you know, convince yourself that this isn’t real—this is wrong—but his features are masked with a pinch you’d never seen directed at you, tense lines hardening his face with a chilling anger.
“i love you,” you repeat, but the words are weaker now, not as easily formed as the first time.
“no you don’t,” bucky interrupts immediately, thinning his eyes at you. “what the hell? no, you don’t—you can’t.”
you blink fast, looking away from his face, scrunched in anger, but he isn’t having it. “i do—”
“you can’t fuckin’ do this to me, y/n. i don’t need this,” he growls.
“what?” you croak. “i don’t—i thought you—”
“i don’t,” bucky snaps, forcing the lies to escape his throat. “i don’t love you.”
the words knock the air from your lungs, eyes beginning to burn with tears that don’t come easily to you. “what?” you whimper.
“how could you think i did?” he asks, ripping out your heart as it beats and shakes and sobs.
he tries to pretend like it’s not him who is saying these horrible things, as if he’s closing his eyes, hidden away from the body that continues to deny your confession for your own good. “what the hell is wrong with you?” he’s never thought his voice could be so harsh.
“i didn’t mean to—” you begin, your voice as small as you’d ever heard it, trembling with your worst fear solidifying. you should have known. how could you have been such a fool? bucky does not need to deal with one of the few friends he’s so close to in the tower having a stupid, unrequited crush on him. you’ve made things so difficult, you’ve ruined your relationship. “i’m sorry.”
“you’re sorry?” he mocks cruelly, shaking his head. “i don’t want this. i don’t want you.”
your neck snaps up when you hear him beginning to leave, rushing forward to tug his arm gently. “please don’t leave,” you plead tearily. “can we pretend like i never said anything? nothing will change, i promise. i can’t lose you.”
bucky’s laugh is cold, splintering through your heart. “how could you be so—” he shakes his head, shutting his mouth before he can finish his thought. “i can’t believe you.”
“i’m sorry,” you cry, tears bubbling down your cheeks before you can stop them in a stupor of shame. “i’m so sorry, bucky, i will do anything—”
“shut up,” he snarls, and the words die on your tongue with the venom in the way he looks at you. “i can’t even look at you right now. stop fuckin’ crying and leave me alone. i can’t deal with you.”
his words, dipped in his fury, are unrecognizable, foreign from the man who mutters jokes into your ear on movie nights and tucks pieces of hair away from your eyes, who deals with any problem with a deep breath and an assurance that it will be okay because he hates to get mad at you, he hates seeing you cry and there is absolutely nothing you could do to make him love you any less.
the sharp slam of the door of your room counters that, bringing with it the blade of the words that still thunder in your head.
your face crumples, hot droplets of tears burning your skin.
the heat of bucky’s anger burns even from where you’re standing, and the utter hatred in the way he looked at you, spoke to you, makes you shake. you stifle cries, desperate to not bother your best friend and slide down your bed to the floor, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood in a weak attempt to calm your cries.
you shut your eyes, bucky’s words displayed proudly across your dark lids. you straighten, sadness melting away into anger. you rub at your nose, face heating in your fury, and rush out of the room, not bothering to grab your phone or bag, uncaring that it’s the middle of the night and the sky is the darkest you’ve ever seen.
you pointlessly wipe your face with your sleeve as you rush into the elevator and push the button for the ground floor, your mask of rage slipping when you pass bucky’s room. your lip wobbles as you stare at the numbers above the elevator doors until you’re unable to help the sobs as your mind races to find a solution to what you’ve done.
this is your fault. this is your fault and you need to fix it or else the only person you’ve felt so much love for and so loved by will never look at you the same again. you can’t stand making bucky angry, much less causing something that will make his life difficult—especially after he’s worked so hard to create some sense of normalcy and trusting relationships—but it’s difficult to concentrate on how to fix it when the fear that you’ve ruined the best relationship you’ve had over your stupidity inks your thoughts.
you’re distraught enough to walk six blocks and never once notice the men that follow behind you.
your mind lags when you’re suddenly thrown against a wall, the hiccups from your sobs increasing because of the hand that covers your mouth. your vision is too blurry with tears for you to recognize any of the people that are in front of you, hands useless as they attempt to claw at the arms that hold you against the unyielding alley. the training tony had made you go through when he hired you as his lab tech feels useless as you choke on your grief and fear, weak in your struggles against their attack.
it’s easy for them to knock you out, and you can only feel the ache of your hurt expanding icily as your attacks cede, limbs growing limp, damp eyelids drooping shut.
-
your eyes are swollen when you come to again, and you can’t be sure if it’s from the crying you could still feel in your raw throat or the assault you couldn’t even remember anymore. you blink hard, trying to adjust to the darkness of the room you think you’re in.
briefly, tony’s voice rings in your head, reminding you to look for exits and weapons. you can only see one door in the darkness, and as far as you can make out, it does not have a doorknob. although you doubt you could muster up enough strength to escape from the binds that dig into your wrists and ankles, surely bruising your skin although you barely fight against them. the room is bare and unclean, with stains of the color of rust at your feet.
you know it’s no use screaming. all it would do is bleed your throat further and anger your kidnappers.
the name makes you flinch. the word feels so usual yet foreign in your mind. it’s unfairly common in your place of work, but never to you—not the scientist that tony keeps safely hidden away in the lab. not the tech that has gone on the field once and was stuck to bucky’s side for the entirety of the time.
the thought of him brings an ugly taste to your mouth and a new rush of painful tears. you fucked up the relationship with your best friend and now he was furious at you. he doesn’t even want to look at you. will he ever even get the chance again? would he notice you were gone? would he care?
there’s a faint commotion beyond the doors that makes your thoughts freeze in their tracks. your kidnappers are saying something.
the rightful title appears in your thoughts again, making the reality of your situation set in faster than you were expecting it to; you were kidnapped, and nobody was going to find you.
-
out of everything, it’s guilt that bucky is most accustomed to.
it’s heavy and spiteful, eating away at his mind until it’s clouded even the memories he’s tried to keep hidden away from the fog that is his sin. it sneaks into the crooks of his life—the argument his brain pipes up with when he’s debating taking the last donut, the reason that he doesn’t allow himself to enjoy himself fully—why he won’t let himself believe that your revelation was anything more than fake.
why would an honor so sweet be bestowed upon someone like him? someone with stained fingertips and a broken mind.
it screws with him, the possibility of the truth. because no matter how much the voice of logic in his mind insists that someone like you could never love someone like him, there’s the gentle light of hope that you’ve helped rekindle, nudging him toward something that will surely only end up hurting him, and most importantly, hurting you.
he brings with him pain and ghosts and you are so undeserving of it.
so no, he decides. you cannot possibly love him.
but the look on your face flashes in front of his eyes, and he realizes that the circumstance of you actually loving him back might be more dangerous than the lie of it. 
he needs to protect you—from him, from everything that haunts him—he loves you too much to let you fall into the fire that is him.
he did the right thing by rejecting you, yet the guilt continues to gnaw at him, the tears that wouldn’t stop sliding down your cheeks carrying something worse than what he expected. you’re what he has always wanted and he pushed you away, and as much as that is what he needed to do for you, he’s selfish in wanting you still. in any way.
he opens his eyes again with a sad little gasp, surprised at the chill that hits his face wet with tears he wasn’t aware of. he catches a glimpse of himself in his broken mirror, and he’s never hated the sight more, the words he spat at you tattooed on his skin in dark ink.
he shakes his head, standing from his bed to apologize until he can’t anymore and plead that you stay in his life.
he runs a hand over his face as he walks out of his room, clenching his jaw when he catches sight of the door he slammed now slightly open. he knocks softly, forcing his eyes to the ground when the door opens further.
“y/n?” he calls out hesitantly when there’s no response, finally looking up to an empty room. his brows furrow. something is wrong.
you never leave your room if you’re upset; it’s always either his room or yours, because your bed is here and everyone else is outside.
he opens the door fully when he spots your phone on your bed where he last saw it. in fact, everything is as he last saw it.
he knows he has no right after what he said to you, but his bad feeling won’t allow him to leave without knowing where you are.
“friday, where’s y/n?” he asks.
“miss l/n left her room three hours ago,” the ai responds curtly. and he swears it sounds colder than the last time he talked to her.
“three hours?” bucky repeats. friday confirms, and bucky shakes his head. “no… she wouldn’t leave her phone. where did she go? has she come back?”
“miss y/n left the building, and without her phone, i cannot track her.”
“you have to be able to do something,” bucky insists. “she’s a part of the team.”
“i am unable to do anything further without mister stark’s permission,” friday informs.
bucky’s fingers reach up to tangle in his hair, tugging in frustration as panic begins to brew. alarm bells are going off in his head and an anvil sits on his chest.
“well, get his permission,” bucky orders, but friday’s voice comes back as calm as ever as she rebuts him. he doesn’t care to stick around for the end of her sentence, taking off toward the door to head to tony.
he’s eating a granola bar with natasha and steve in a conference room when he finds him, features scrunching when bucky tells him to order his ai to track you.
“no,” he replies incredulously. “shouldn’t you know either way? you’re always attached at the hip,” he points out. bucky’s jaw clenches, mind running in every possible direction. natasha offers a scrutinizing glance, eyebrows joining. “actually, building on that—” tony starts. “wouldn’t blame her if she needed a little break.” he points the granola at bucky, but he isn’t fazed.
“something is wrong,” he says, as calm as he can muster. “friday says she hasn’t been in her room for three hours and she left her phone there.”
“so? she could’ve forgotten. maybe she left with wanda or bruce or someone. unlike you, she has more than one friend.”
“not today. not right now,” bucky snaps. “tony,” he pleads now, meeting steve’s eye. “something is wrong.”
tony’s features set as he scans bucky’s face, and suddenly something clicks, his head cocking to the side dangerously.
“what happened?” steve asks worriedly as tony finally reaches for his tablet.
“we had a fight. she wouldn’t leave for so long—without her phone, without telling anyone.”
tony listens along as he looks at the screen, typing things into the keyboard. “friday, get me all footage of y/n in the last three hours.”
“what did you do?” natasha cuts in, her words sharp as if she knew exactly what he’d said to you.
“it doesn’t matter right now,” bucky mumbles, his gaze glued to the screen. the screen showcases the hallway outside yours and bucky’s rooms, and he tenses as he watches the footage of you poking your head out from your door, greeting him with a smile.
“fast forward,” tony tells friday. bucky hoods his eyes when it lands on another screen, where he can catch his own muffled words, knowing what’s coming.
"what the hell is wrong with you?" he flinches at his own words, hating the sight of the shine of the tears streaking down your cheeks when he closes his eyes. he can feel natasha’s glare. more of his voice comes from the creaked door, your own clothed in tears.
"i don't want you." bucky squeezes his eyes shut. "stop fuckin’ crying and leave me alone." hearing the words in his voice hurts impossibly more than he thought it would. they’re sharper, more convincing than he thought, and the things he tried to comfort himself with fade away with the slam of the door after he walks out, the only sound remaining your cries.
“what the hell is wrong with you?” natasha echoes, her words echoing his from the video. “i’m going to murder you.”
“where did she go after that?” bucky ignores her. “i just need to know she’s okay.”
“you don’t deserve to know anything about her—” natasha hisses, beginning to stand from her chair, but steve sets a hand on her shoulder, directing her burning glare to the screen, where you leave your room, sniffling. the video switches to the feed inside the elevator, where buck can’t tear his eyes off of you as you sob, a hand desperately trying to wipe away your tears.
tony’s turned to bucky now, too.
bucky follows your figure when you leave the elevator and then the building, and friday fast-fowards through video feed from various different cameras until one finally slows, and you’re suddenly pulled into an alley. the angle is awful, but there’s just enough light to catch the light reflecting off your terrified face as three men push you against a wall.
the one not touching you catches sight of the camera, pulling a gun from his coat to point and shoot. the video crackles to static.
“no, no, no…” bucky mumbles, hands reaching up to his hair, beginning to tug. the clip replays, pausing on a close up of your face, cheek pressed against the wall with a force that must be painful, eyebrows joined and eyes widened in fear.
tony sets down his tablet with a quiet thump, rubbing the bridge of his nose, mulling over what he had just seen. natasha is still for only a few seconds before she’s into action, reaching for the tablet and beginning to mutter orders to friday. there’s an imperceptible shake of her hands as she allows a glance up to your face again.
“this is my fault,” bucky mumbles angrily. “fuck me. fuck me.”
“yes, fuck you,” natasha agrees, coolly and to the point, not once sparing him a look. “fuck you for saying that to her and for making her cry but mostly fuck you for not doing everything you fucking can to find her right now. fix your fucking mistake and get to work, barnes.”
he squeezes his fist, tugging on the bracelet you’d made and lovingly tied around his wrist. the emotion that had kissed his face pink and tugged his features in guilt disappears within a second, wiped clean enough for the memory of it to be hazy even if it was so fresh. he sniffs, nods curtly, and steps out of the conference room, entirely business even as he drowns in what you’ve always encouraged him to pour out to you.
“i’m gonna check the place we last had eyes on her,” he informs briefly, hearing no audible response from the distracted avengers inside the conference room.
he doesn’t let his guilt tinge his vision as he examines your blood on the wall, too terrified to let himself mess up at your expense again.
-
you gasp in air as soon as the wet towel someone had thrown over your face before dumping water on your head is removed, whimpers sewn in between desperate panting. your lashes are wet and hairs stick to your forehead, fat droplets of water running down your chin.
unforgiving fingers clasp your chin, cruelly tilting your face up to meet unfamiliar eyes. you squint against the light, wanting nothing more than to close your eyes and pretend that there is no man scanning your face hungrily, sinister amusement crinkling his eyes, contempt puckering his lips.
“such a pretty thing,” he drawls, a finger pressing into your skin. “i don’t think your avengers would be too happy to lose something as pretty as you,” he mocks.
“i’m not gonna tell you anything,” you croak.
the playfulness in his features disappears then, and his bruising grip disappears into a resounding slap.
you can’t help the gasp that parts your lips and stings your eyes, whimpers slipping past your throat when he grabs you again, pulling your face close to his.
“listen to me, little girl,” he growls. “either you tell me and i let you live or your stupid little soldier comes and i take my time killing him until you cough it up. then i kill you.”
you scan his face, swallowing hard. “you mean bucky? he’s not gonna come for me.”
“he will. and when he does, i’ll enjoy making him pay for betraying hydra. maybe i’ll have a little walk down memory lane. the doc left great notes on the winter soldier.”
you scoff, pushing past the fear although your trembling is undeniable. “didn’t you do your homework? bucky doesn’t give a shit about me. you really think he’d risk his life—his freedom for someone he doesn’t even like? you kidnapped the wrong person if what you want is bucky.” the thought is bitter enough to comfort you, the reassurance that bucky will be fine sweet enough to combat the acridity of his resent for you.
the man’s lip twitches, his eyes boring into yours as they try to find if you’re being honest. he shoves your face back, and you slam into the chair with a shuddering breath, the phantom of his grip still heavy on your skin.
he sniffs and gestures vaguely. “let’s give her the winter soldier treatment.”
your heart drops, memories of what bucky’s told you displayed across your mind until they blackout your mind completely, and the only thing left is a promise.
you are going to die today.
-
bucky feels blurry, as if he’s flickering in and out of awareness in his frantic panic. the words he says are cut and dry, carrying only information because it is the only thing he has the strength for—but it feels rehearsed, scripted.
he wishes it were. he aches for this not to be real, and what he would offer a god he doesn’t believe in for you is heavy on his mind, pleading so desperately that he begins to eye the tower, the team, and selfishly offer it all up for you.
his anger shoves him down on a chair, but his desperation is frenetic in its reminders that any second not searching for you is a second longer that you will be out of his grasp and in the thorns of someone else’s. the handles of the chair groan underneath the pressure of his fingers, wrapping around the metal in their attempts to clutch something tangible, something real and not the idea of where you are, or the leads that only end in strangled cries, the numbers that float by on the screen in front of tony. 
his arm sits heavy by his side, tapping the table curtly so as to have something to do, although bucky has never hated it more—to have something so sought after, stained with blood and tears and pain and bitter triumphs, yet be so incredibly useless when it counts.
he doesn’t want to ask what he can do because he should know. he got you into this mess and he should know how to get you out, but he’s flailing, his fingers only grazing the edges of everything he’s already done. he knows what it means and he wants to scream at the universe for it.
there’s a thin beep that echoes in the conference room, muting steve’s mumbled plans and bucky’s silent examination of any files he can get his hands on, although his eyes kept drifting to the grainy picture of you pressed up against the wall.
tony freezes, the pen in his mouth dropping as he stares at his tablet.
“what?” natasha demands, looking away from her work to catch sight of tony, all color drained from his face.
he sucks in a breath and taps at the screen. “friday, search for any identifying features, scan every pixel, do you understand?”
the large monitor in front of the table darkens for a second before a video begins to play, and it doesn’t take long for the team to figure out what’s going on. bucky’s heart drops to his stomach as he rises from his chair, breathing heavily. “no,” he murmurs, terrified. his worst fears come into fruition as he stares at your unmoving figure tied up in a chair, the shaky camera only allowing him view to the worst of your injuries—already darkened bruises littering your skin, smudged red on your face.
a different face overtakes the picture, dark eyes lit with amusement and crinkled by a smile. “a pretty thing, isn’t she?” he croaks, moving the camera back to you. he moves closer, and bucky feels bile rise up his throat.
natasha presses her eyes shut when the camera pans straight over your face, where bucky can see cuts and the indentations of fingers and hands. your eyes are shut, and you remain unmoving even when gloved fingers wrap around your chin tightly, tipping your head back.
bucky nearly follows her lead.
and then you groan. your eyes flutter open, but they only allow bucky to see the insipid acceptance that laces your irises, coated by fear.
“she’s holdin’ up better than we thought,” his tone is impressed, but as silence drags on, he becomes angrier, his hold on your jaw digging deeper until you wince and move back, but he doesn’t let you. “‘but she won’t for long.”
the camera flips back to him. “hey, winter. if you think you had it bad, it won’t be nothin’ compared to this. promise.”
the camera moves around, catching the ceiling and other frames while he seems to look for something. he hums in delight when he finds it, and excitedly waves a sharp blade in front of the camera. “she swears winter won’t come for her,” he starts, lips contorting in disappointment. the camera slips again to capture the blade against your skin. “but i kinda hope he does. for her sake. such a pretty thing… “
the conference room darkens, the video’s end calling for an entirely new wave of terror.
“we have his face,” natasha pipes up, weakly.
“‘lotta good that’s done us,” tony argues.
“we know she's alive. we have an image of where she is,” natasha snaps, stepping toward him. “and if you were as good as you say you are, his face would be all we needed.”
tony’s about to reply when friday cuts in, bringing up the frames of the video where the man was distracted. “mister stark, i have a location.”
the argument forgotten, natasha and tony snap to the screen. bucky stands, stepping toward them to see the blinking dot indicating your whereabouts. once his eyes have memorized the street names, he’s out the door and headed for his bike, the rest of the group not far behind. a plan is forming behind him, and he manages to catch the bones of it, his role outlined with enough trust for him to not question it.
the rumble of his bike underneath him allows him an anchor to reality, where he’s threatened to float away otherwise.
“i’m coming,” he whispers, speeding up as he remembers your desolate eyes and broken skin.  “just hold on, sweetheart. i’m on my way.”
-
there’s a pout on your kidnapper’s lips as he observes you, looking back to his wrist to tap his watch. judging by the ticks, it’s been too long since he’s sent the video. his jaw is tense, probably nearing realization that you were right. the thought is as satisfying as it is heartbreaking.
“i told you. you can’t get what you want from me,” you rasp.
the man scowls, nostrils flaring. his patience is thin and his anger raw, awakened with the gentle nudge of your words. he comes close enough for you to feel his breath on your face, and his fingers are around your neck when you close your eyes, unwilling to continue looking into his.
“i better,” he threatens. “that’s the only thing keeping me from screwing your mind up so bad you’ll be better off dead.”
you swallow hard, your consciousness vignetting as oxygen continues to escape you. you nearly wish it did so faster, but your torturer is too cruel for even that, releasing you as you begin to go limp.
you choke in air and cough, your tongue catching iron from the split in your lip.
he hums as he takes you in. “you’re like him. at least like how zola wrote about him,” he states, cocking his head at you.
“what?” you cough.
“the winter soldier. before he became useful,” he explains thoughtfully, eyeing you. he wipes away the blood from your cupid’s bow with a thumb. “if he won’t come, maybe we’ll make a new one.”
your blood is ice in your veins as you absorb what he’s implying. his touch is tender, careful on your skin. you flinch.
“imagine that. the wit of iron man and looks of the black widow. the ability of the winter soldier, but… no connections. no one to save the soldier this time.” his voice is dreamy, excited. “we’ll break you even worse. we’ll make you kill them all.”
“no,” you whimper, straining against your restraints. “no, please. just kill me, please.”
“i think he begged like that, too,” he muses.
-
bucky is tinged with the soldier.
he darkens his thoughts until they become locked memories with only bodies and guilt as remnants. but now, it’s bucky who pulls the trigger, who finds himself too bitter to pull punches.
he's left the guards to the rest of the group to move forward faster, sticking by natasha.
there’s a room at the end of the building, and he takes off at the same time nat does. she turns to him when they slow, catching the voice from the video. “you’re not going in there,” she tells him, pulling a gun from her belt.
“of course i am,” bucky argues, readying himself to kick the door in.
“this is your fault. you don’t deserve to feel like the hero, barnes.”
“this isn’t that,” bucky insists. “i need to feel that she’s okay.”
natasha settles an unsure glance his way, but the conversation is over, drowned by the dust that follows bucky’s easy entrance.
your kidnapper wears a coy grin, stepping in front of you, yet bucky’s zeroed in on you and the tears that streak across dried vermillion and dark purples. “winter,” he begins. “i’m so glad you—”
bucky takes off toward you while natasha ends the speech before it can start with a clean shot, watching as the man drops to the floor. she’s a quick step toward you before she stops, noting the anguish with which bucky spills over.
you're alive is all she needs to know, and she gets in a few more shots at the man who did this to you as bucky rushes to you.
his name falls from your lips in a small croak, coated in disbelief, obvious you had succumbed to the fear, slipped into the exhaustion and dreadful acceptance. but the torment displayed on bucky’s face is unlike you have ever seen before—crumpled far beyond what your mind could make up, and you allow yourself to fall into the hope you couldn’t help but hold onto, completely uncaring if this isn’t real because it’s so much better than what you will surely open your eyes to otherwise.
he is at your side immediately, face falling as he catches sight of the bruises that coat your skin. he crouches to you, undoing your restraints with ease. his strength makes you flinch, even though it’s not toward you, and he pauses when he notices, something you don’t recognize glossing over his face before he continues, attempting to be calmer.
you can’t stop looking at him, your eyes crazed as they scan the reality of him. you repeat his name softly, a beg of are you real? in the way you stare.
“i’m here,” he promises, a hesitant hand reaching out to you. the warmth of it as it comes in contact with your cheek is as safe as you remember his touch, and you lean into it, letting out a stifled sob of relief.
“you came,” you cry, throwing yourself against him. his arms wrap around you securely, pulling as close as he can with as much delicacy he can muster in his desperation. “i thought you weren’t gonna come,” you sob, grasping his shirt as tight as you can.
“‘m always gonna come,” he tells you, tightening his grip on you.
“you were mad. i thought you didn’t care. i thought—” your words cut off as you push your face into the crook of his neck. “you came for me.”
“i’m sorry,” he mumbles. “i’m so sorry, sweetheart. i love you so much, i shouldn’t have yelled—i shouldn’t have said any of that. i love you and i’m sorry i made you feel like that. i’m so sorry. i just need you to be safe. you’re safe now, i swear.”
you can only shut your eyes, unable to absorb his words in the relief that he’s here, real and solid and saving you like he always does. he mumbles his apologies as he gently hoists you into his arms and carries you out of the dreaded room, repeatedly pressing kisses into your hair between strings of i love yous and i’m sorrys.
right now, it’s enough that he’s in between your fingers, warm underneath your skin, his promises sweet against your neck. right now, the safety of him is enough.
2K notes · View notes
buckyalpine · 7 months
Text
CEO Bucky takes his anger out on his secretary (ft smut)
Imagine CEO!Bucky accidently taking his anger out on his already stressed out secretary. He gets mean and you will deal with it because I wanted this angst turned smut to go from chest itching to stomach fluttering. 
-
Your stomach twisted in knots looking at the pile of papers you had stacked on your desk, the phone still ringing while new messages popped up in your email inbox every 5 minutes. The files had to be organized by the next meeting and the number on the phone display was one you couldn’t ignore. The back to back messages were from various investors, each person insisting they were a priority over the others. You kept the receiver between your ear and shoulder, your hands flying around your desk madly between papers and tapping your keyboard. 
You quickly added a few more meetings to the calendar before hurrying to your bosses office to remind him of one he had later that afternoon. You hesitated before knocking at the door, the closed doors indicating he was busy, but you knew he’d want a heads up about the meeting. 
“Mr. Barnes, you have a meeting with Stark Enterprises at 3:30-
“Didn’t I tell you to move this meeting to next week?” Bucky snapped, blue eyes glaring at you while you blinked in confusion. “Well?” 
“N-no” You shook your head, you’d never missed an email before and you’d always been on top of scheduling changes on time. Bucky mumbled something under his breath before waving you off, the shrill sound of his phone going off. 
“Barnes” Bucky grunted, answering the phone without looking back at you, leaving to you scramble away and figure out if you could rearrange the date with Tony Stark. 
Which was a mess in itself. 
You had to argue back and forth, pleading to no end for a different day with Starks assistant only reluctantly agreeing after nearly half an hour. 
“You really should be more responsible, can’t believe Barnes has the likes of you working under him” the woman on the phone clicked her tongue before slamming down the receiver, cutting the call. You sighed, taking in a deep breath to calm the tightness you felt in your throat, you didn’t have time to break down now. 
You printed the up coming contracts for Bucky to sign, organizing them by name and highlighting the places he had to sign so he didn’t have to bother finding the space for signatures. You scurried back into his office, dreading the tense click of his jaw, your nerves increasing even more. 
“Sir, these are your papers-” You stumbled over the corner of the rug, scattering the papers onto the floor, your heart hammering out of your chest when you saw Bucky irritatedly run his fingers through his hair. 
“For fucks sake, y/n, I’m already stressed, don’t screw more shit up!” He growled, eyes hardening at the sight of the papers strewn across the floor of his office while you stayed frozen on the spot. Your eyes glossed over, quickly scrambling to the floor to grab the documents, mumbling apologies over and over again, hoping none of your tears stained the paper. The sight of tears streaking down your face broke Bucky out of his frustrated state, instantly regretting the tone he’d used with you. 
“Fuck” Bucky cursed under his breath, getting out of his chair to help you but you’d already managed to pick everything up, immediately trying to scramble away.
“Y/n” 
You didn’t stop, unable to take more of Bucky’s wrath, continuing to hurry towards the door, desperately trying to hold down your sniffles and aggressively wiping your cheeks. 
“Y/n” 
Bucky sighed, gently reaching out to grab your arm and pulling you to face him, his feeling even worse when you kept your eyes trained on the floor, your arms wrapped around yourself. 
“I’m sorry, p-please d-on’t yell” You choked out, still trying to hold your composure together, fighting the way your body wanted to break down into sobs 
“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m sorry” his heart broke seeing the tears collecting in your lash line, his thumb swiping away the ones that spilled out. “M’sorry baby” he wasn’t sure where the pet name came from but he couldn’t help it, letting it naturally roll off his tongue. You were still rigid, refusing to look at him, nearly flinching when he pulled you closer, tilting your chin up to meet his steel blues. 
“Look at me” He spoke softly now, as if he were trying to coax a small animal out of hiding, his touch gentle, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”
“It’s okay” you shrugged, slipping out of his hold, quickly wiping your face and going back to work as if nothing had happened. Even though he’d apologized, his words rang through your mind for the rest of the day. 
In fact, they stuck with you through the entire week. 
Bucky hated the way you didn’t even look at him anymore. He missed your soft good mornings and shy smile whenever he walked into his office. Now all you did was keep your head down, freezing in fear as soon as you heard his footsteps. And it was all his fault. 
He despised that he made you feel scared of him, his own anger being the cause of upsetting you when you had been nothing but sweet from the day he’d met you. You were also the best he’d ever had; no one else had ever come close to how brilliantly you worked; you never missed anything. He nearly spat out the coffee that was placed on his table, missing the perfect cup you made for him every morning. 
You only spoke 1-2 words, retreating from his office as soon as you got what you needed, your eyes always trained on the floor, looking away from him. He couldn’t take it anymore, feeling more guilty each day; he couldn’t go on any longer without your sweetness. 
You blinked at the baby pink roses that sat in a basket on your desk along with a little bear placed on top, a small hand made I’m Sorry heart sitting in its furry hands, clearly in Bucky’s handwriting. You traced over the soft teddy holding it in your hands before going to his office. Before you could say anything, Bucky was up and out of his seat, desperately hoping you’d hear him out. 
“M’sorry y/n” His soft eyes were filled with sadness and regret as he reached out to hold your hands in his, not wanting you to run off again, “I’m so sorry angel, there’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have yelled at you” 
“It’s fine” You whispered, still avoiding his gaze. 
“Hey, it’s not fine” Bucky shook his head, cupping your face to make you look at him, “It’s not baby, I shouldn’t have ever treated you that way. You do everything for me, I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you” 
“I shouldn’t have messed u-
“Don’t, absolutely not. You never do sweets, it was me who messed up. Never you. Will you forgive me, doll?” Bucky nervously bit his lip while you gave him a small nod, that adorable shy smile he loved so much making its way to your lips. 
“God, I missed this” He whispered, his thumb tracing over your lips, chuckling at the tiny confused pout you gave him after.
“What did you miss” 
“This little smile you always have whenever you’re around me” Bucky smirked at the way you grew more bashful, doe eyes darting about, “Do you have any idea how much I love when you look at me like that?” 
“Mr-Mr. Barnes” Your breath hitched in your throat as his hands slowly moved to hold your waist, pulling you closer. Your hands made their way to his chest to ground yourself, forgetting how to breathe as he pressed his lips against yours. It started off soft and slow; his sweet tongue turning sinful as he walked over to his chair, pulling you to straddle him without breaking apart once. You let out a needy whimper feeling him harden under you though Bucky was still focused on kissing your soft skin, his lips fluttering across every inch. 
You’d never been this close to Bucky before, the intoxicating scent of his cologne making your heart race, his calloused large hands roaming your body. You hadn’t even realized you were grinding down on his thick bulge until he let out a groan, stilling your hips. 
“Keep that up bunny and you’ll make me cum in my pants like a little boy” Bucky let out a strained chuckle, using every bit of his self restraint not to tear your clothes off. 
“Please?” You wiggled against him again, needing to be closer, Bucky’s resolve slowly crumbling. How could he hold back when you were practically humping your soaked needy cunt right on his erection. 
“Please what, sweets” 
“Need you Sir” your voice had melted in a whine and that was all it took. The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor caused more arousal to dampen your panties, nearly drooling at the sight of his cock as he pulled it out. 
“Are-are you sure?” He checked with you once more, not wasting a second ripping your blouse off as soon as you nodded. He threw your bra off next before lifting your skirt up and pulling your panties to the, rubbing his fingers through your folds. 
“Sir, pleasee” 
“I got you, I got you baby. Wanted to make love for our first time angel, give you a bed with rose petals n’ champagne over ice” He whispered, recounting every fantasy he’d thought of from the day he’d met you, “Wanted to make you feel good baby, throw your legs over my shoulders and nurse off this little clit”
He rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves, continuing. 
“N’ then you’d be my sweet pillow princess. I’d let you lie down all night while I fuck your soul angel. I’d give you my cum all night, pump you full of my cream” 
“Need you now” You whimpered, clutching onto the lapels of his blazer, not that you didn’t want everything he was telling you but you couldn't wait. 
“Alright baby, c’mere” He pulled you closer, your bare chest pressed against his as he rubbed his swollen cockhead to gather your slick before breeching your tight hole, his hips gently pushing up till he was buried to the hilt, “That’s it, shhh take all of me” 
Bucky gave you a second to adjust to his size, his wide hands splayed across your body to hold you in place as he began to thrust up. You gasped in pleasure, your voice melting into a moan as he picked you up and placed you on his desk, pushing your thighs to hit your chest, hitting an even deeper angel. 
“OH GOD-MR-BARNES” You wailed as he fucked you harder, his heard thrown back, tie loosened, tightening the grip he had on your legs, keeping you spread out wide open. He groaned at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you while you moaned and sobbed on his desk, taking everything he gave you. 
“That’s right baby, say my name, let everyone know who makes you feel this good” He grunted through gritted teeth, holding off his orgasm while bringing his thumb to rub your clit again. 
“I-I’m gonna-OH-GOD-PLEASEE
“Fuck you sound perfect” Bucky moaned feeling you choke his length, fluttering and pulling him deeper as your orgasm washed over you, his own release dangerously close. “God you feel so fuckin’ good when you cum baby. One more angel, just one more” Bucky practically pleaded with you, speeding up his fingers till he saw your eyes roll back, silent screams leaving your mouth as your juices soaked his balls. 
“Fuck m’cumming so hard for you baby” He groaned, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts before stilling and spilling ropes of cum into you. He kept his cock inside while bending down to pick you up and sit back in his chair again. He sat with you for a while, petting your hair and kissing you, whispering sweet nothings. 
“Ready to go?” He whispered, looking down to see if you’d fallen asleep while you snuggled into him with your eyes closed. 
“Too tired sir” You pouted, nuzzling into his chest, refusing to move, your body too fucked out to even stand. 
“I got you baby” Bucky smiled, shrugging off his blazer and wrapping you up before carrying you away in his arms, ready to take you home, right where you belonged “Gonna make love to my pretty girl” 
10K notes · View notes
bucks-babe · 3 months
Text
Be Mean To Me
Pairing: Bucky x f!reader
Summary: After a long day at work, you just want to lose all control and have your boyfriend fuck you into oblivion 
Warnings: Established relationship, slight angst, fluff, smut, mean!dom!bucky, reader asks for it, they are so in love, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, oral (male receiving), ball sucking, slapping, spit kink?, degradation, humiliation, name calling (slut, whore, bitch, sugar, good girl), daddy kink, some praise, spanking, pussy slapping (like once), safe word (yellow), vaginal sex, no prep anal, Bucky has a huge dick, choking, aftercare, check-ins, crying during sex, crying after sex, soft!Bucky, no mention of Y/N, no description of reader other than being female
Word Count: 4.9k of mostly smut
A/N: This was very self indulgent. Work has been kicking my ass and I want to be taken care of. Any mistakes are my own. If I missed any warnings please let me know. @bucknastysbabe it's done! I think I should go back to therapy. But hey, smut
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You feel your throat tighten as you walk up to the apartment you share with Bucky. It was one of those days that left you beaten down and wanting to curl up under your blankets and cry. You didn’t even want to go into work this morning, having to force yourself to get ready. Too many rude customers, incompetent coworkers giving you more work than you get paid to do, everything leaving you overstimulated and wanting your boyfriend.
It left a craving deep down inside of you, a want that you knew only he could quell. You just wanted to shut your brain off, have Bucky take care of you, ruin you, treat you like a whore, break you down, just to put you back together again.
You swallow the lump in your throat and unlock the front door, finding Bucky on the couch watching some random action movie that he claimed to hate. At the sight of him your body naturally relaxes and the urge to crawl onto his lap is too much to bear.
“Hey, sugar. I’ve been missing you all day. You’ll never fucking believe the video Sam sent me of Tony trying out his new thrusters! He flew rig- What’s wrong?” He perked up at the sound of the door opening, truly missing his girl. Whenever you’re around him his entire day gets better, a lightness filling his chest, but when he sees how run down you are, his heart literally hurts for you. Bucky wants to protect you from everything, from supervillains all the way to spiders in the house.
“Long day, baby. Just wanna be with you.” He opens his arms and you instantly crawl into his lap, eyes burning with tears you refuse to shed. He runs his metal hand up and down your back, pulling you as close to him as possible, while his flesh hand rests on your head, holding you to his neck, letting you breathe him in.
“What can I do for you, sugar? Want to talk about it? I can order from your favorite place. Can run you a bath. Whatever you want, sweet girl.” 
“Please, be mean to me, Bucky.” Bucky feels his heart clench in his chest. He wants to keep your heart safe from whatever it is that is plaguing you, but he knows he can’t. What he can do is follow your request and make you forget.
“How mean do you want me, sugar?” Bucky has done this for you a few times. He always asks how you want him to treat you. It’s in his nature to be sweet to you, fill you with praise, but that's not what you want right now. You want to be degraded and treated like a fucktoy.
“Mean.” You keep your eyes trained on him. This is the only part where you need to keep your head on, make sure that he knows you want this.
“Remember your colors, sugar?” You nob, excitement bubbling up inside of you. “Remember, daddy will only be upset with you if you don’t use them. If you need to say yellow or red, you will.” His tone is final. This is the only way he would ever agree to treating you like a slut.
“Yes, daddy.” And just like that, Bucky’s entire demeanor changes. He goes from your sweet, cuddly boyfriend to a cold and callous body of muscle. 
“Then take your clothes off, slut.” He pushes you off his lap, just hard enough to give the illusion of indifference. As you strip, Bucky keeps his eyes trained on the TV, not paying you any mind. Your core throbs at the fact that you are completely exposed while he is still fully dressed. 
“On your knees.” He’s still not looking at you, but you obey without thought, willing to do whatever he wants. Grabbing the back of your neck, he forces you in between his spread legs, and you whine at the fact that his cock is still soft inside his sweats. Any other day, Bucky would make sure that your knees were never on the hardwood floor without a pillow or something soft underneath, but not today.
On days like these, when you want to feel completely submissive, it takes Bucky a while to get aroused. It’s in his nature to love up on you, make you drunk with pleasure in the sweetest way possible. He feeds off of your energy. When he is sure that you are having fun, his body lets himself fall into his role.
“What? You think at the first signs of some tits I’m gonna get hard? I knew you were a dumb slut but I didn’t realize just how thick you were.” Your pussy was absolutely pulsing with need. With his hand still on the back of your neck, he rubs your face against his crotch, feeling his cock begin to harden at the smell of your arousal.
He pulls you back far enough to slide his pants down, foregoing boxers, and you immediately try to take his half hard length in your mouth. Before you can process it, Bucky’s right hand lands a slap to your cheek - hard enough to make a welt that will take a few hours to disappear. You gasp and your cunt pulses even harder than before at the sting left on your cheek. 
His metal hand wraps around your chin, much cooler than it’s supposed to be, and forces you to look him in the eye. In the back of your mind you realize that he turned on the cooling function in his arm to sooth your cheek; the arm was built to keep him cool in the Wakandan sun and heat. “Did daddy say you could suck his cock?” He uses his hand to shake your head from side to side, answering for you. “Then keep your slutty mouth shut.”
He spreads his legs wider and pulls your face closer to his heavy sack, already full of cum. “Hands behind your back, and suck on daddy’s balls.” You join your hands together behind your back without question and nuzzle his balls. Wasting no time, you take one into your mouth, sucking feverishly, enjoying the light dusting of hair tickling your face.
“Oh, fuck, come on, slut, I know you can do better than that. Take ‘em both in your dirty mouth.” He pushes you further into him, cutting off your oxygen, and you swear you hear your slick drip onto the floor. Your jaw aches as you try to get them both in your mouth, but you can't; his balls are too big. Bucky ruts against your face, squishing his balls, precum leaking from his tip, dripping onto his stomach after he takes his shirt off.
With your limited amount of movement, you alternate between each ball, licking at the seam. Every time you switch balls, you feel the other drag wetly across your face and you have to clench your legs in an attempt to quell the ache between them while fighting with your need for air. “Such a dirty bitch, lapping at your daddy’s nuts, shit.” He pulls you back just as your head starts to go fuzzy from the lack of oxygen, and you gasp for air, spit is covering the lower half of your face and is dripping down your neck and chest; Bucky feels his cock throb at the sight.
Reaching out, Bucky smears your spit around your face and leaves another, weaker smack to your cheek before he grabs his cock and uses his weeping tip to tease you, dragging it on your face. “What a nasty fucking bitch, drooling all over the place just from sucking some balls.” He slaps your cheeks with it a few times before forcing your head down all the way, making you gag and you immediately pull off, coughing.
He stares into your eyes, cold and calculating, waiting for you to speak. When your coughing subsides you manage to get out a hoarse ‘green,’ giving him the all clear. He takes your head and once again makes you take his cock, this time much slower and not as deep, the first time he wanted to fuck with you. “Such a perfect fucking mouth, shit.” He stops you from bobbing your head, “Stop being such a desperate whore and let daddy finish his movie.” You're sure you’re leaking onto the floor at this point.
You are able to see his face and he looks wrecked, mouth hanging open and head back; he’s not watching shit. Nonetheless, you rest your head on his thigh, getting comfortable, spreading your legs out to get closer to the floor so your head won't be bent at an awkward angle, ignoring the pain in your knees and the ache in your jaw. 
The only sounds filling the room are Bucky’s ragged breathing and the movie playing in the background. There is saliva everywhere, his cock, all over his balls, down to his ass and on the couch. His cock is constantly leaking precum into your mouth but you don’t swallow, letting his taste linger on your tongue. 
This isn’t what you wanted, you wanted him to demolish you. Sitting with his cock in your mouth is giving you too much time to think, so you do what any sane person would do - be a brat. At the first suckle, Bucky lets out a broken moan, at the second, he knows what you’re up to. Flicking your ear with his metal hand he hisses, “Don’t make me punish you, bitch.” At the third, he yanks you off of his dick, a trail of drool and precum keeping the two of you connected, as slaps you once again with his flesh hand, this time not soothing the marred flesh with his metal hand.
He stands and kicks the couch out of the way and pulls you with him by the neck. “You disobedient little-” he cuts himself short at the small puddle of slick that he finds from your previous position. “Is that what I think it is?” You only whine in response, his grip on your neck never faltering. 
With his free hand, he reaches down to your pussy to feel just how wet you are, confirming his suspicions. “What a dirty fucking slut, leaking all over my floor.” He pulls you in closer to him just to whisper, “Lick it the fuck up, bitch,” before pushing you to the ground. 
Your knees hit the wood hard and pain runs up your spine. You ignore the ache and brainlessly lap at your juices on the floor before Bucky smushes your cheek against the puddle and you moan. “Messy bitch, you are? Cunt is pulsing, waiting for my dick. Too bad I have to punish you, isn’t it, slut?” He leans down to the floor, eyes lined up with yours. “Daddy is going to give you ten spanks and I want you to count them.” You don’t respond immediately, stuck in a sort of limbo, drawn in further at the softness in his eyes.
No matter how hard he tries, Bucky can’t hide his devotion to you, that’s why he doesn’t let you look at him when he needs to play this role. His whole face softens at your silence, fearing he’s gone too far. “Color, sugar.” Stroking your cheek, he leans in closer, breathing you in.
“Green, daddy, so green.” The sigh Bucky lets out is audible and he feels ten times lighter.
“Good girl, you want to keep going the way we were?” Even though you said green, he wants to be certain.
“Yes please, daddy, want you to be mean.” You look so small and soft. Bucky struggles to put his facade back up, but he knows you need this.
Bucky positions himself behind you, staring at your ass and glistening pussy, and feels his cock bounce. The first slap isn’t soft by any means, you know there will be a handprint left. Your body jolts and Bucky groans at the jiggle of your ass. “One.” The second is on your other cheek and makes you clench around nothing. “Two.” He lands the next two much harder on the same cheek and you feel tears form in your eyes, yet continue to count, digging your nails into your palm.
He repeats the two spanks to your left cheek and takes a break to sooth your heated and raised skin with his metal hand after you’ve counted. The ground beneath your cheek is hard and unforgiving, leaving you neck bent at an odd angle. Spank seven lands on the back of your right thigh and somehow feels much stronger. “Shit! Seven, daddy.” Eight is on your left, and is just as hard. Your entire lower body aches: cunt pulsing and throbbing for his cock, thighs burning, and ass red and raw, sobbing with every impact.
“These last two are going to be harder, slut, since you forgot to count.” Even with his warning, you aren’t prepared. They are hard and fast, hearing them before you feel them, knocking the breath out of you, and you try to scramble up, but Bucky holds you down. “Don’t run away from me, you know better.” All of a sudden, the sharpest and most excruciating pain blooms from your cunt, and then you hear the wet smack of his metal hand hitting your core. 
You wail, body shooting up, legs fighting to close to soothe the sting left. Before you can, Bucky’s hand on the back of your head keeps you to the ground, while he slams his cock into your cunt, not stopping to let you adjust. “That’s it, fuck. Such a good pussy. Dirty fucking bitch.” You can’t breathe, his cock is knocking all of the air out of your lungs. The only sounds in the room are Bucky’s moans and the wet slapping of skin, his heavy balls banging against your sore clit. With each thrust you’re sure he’s hitting your cervix.
The hand on the back of your head leaves to grab your hip, letting him fuck you even faster, the both of you sliding further and further on the floor. You try to brace yourself with your hands, but the brutality of his fucking is no match. “Daddy, fuck, s-so g-good, please!” You don’t know what you’re begging for, but your cunt is pulling him in, barely letting him pull out.
Bucky is practically chasing you on the floor, hips never slowing down, eyes trained on your pussy, loving the creamy white mess on his dick. “Fuuuck, look at the ass bouncing on daddy’s cock, shit! Love the way this fat fucking ass looks when its all red and sore.” He’s in heaven, with the tight clench of your cunt wrapping around his cock, making him feel crazy.
“Daddy! I can’t, f-fuck, please, too much!” You’re fucking delirious with pleasure, feeling something twisting inside of you. You searched for something to hold on to, only finding smooth surface, legs locking, body seizing up.
“You can and you will take this dick, bitch. I don’t care if it makes you fucking bleed.” The pressure in your core builds tighter and tighter, all the while, Bucky’s hips never falter, sack still ramming against your clit.The breath is knocked out of you when you feel the most intense orgasm of your life pass through you.
Keening and wailing, you squirt on Bucky’s cock, the sounds of your fucking somehow getting even more wet until the force of your orgasm pushes his cock out. Your body is left twitching. There is a much larger puddle on the floor now - your cum. Bucky could fucking cum at the sight of your pathetic body laying on the ground, body wrought with pleasure. “Fuck, sugar! That was so fucking hot! You squirted all over, shit! I fucking love you so goddamn much.” 
The entire lower half of his body is covered with your cum and Bucky swears he can feel his heartbeat in his cock. Nonetheless, he wraps his arms around your waist and hulls you over to where he kicked the couch, placing your upper half on the cushions. “You’re so fucking wet now I bet I could slide right into that tight ass, what do you think, slut?” Your core pulses at the thought of his fat cock in your ass, the two of you don’t usually do anal, given how big he is, but you can’t think straight, especially after cumming so hard.
“Yes, daddy. I want your big cock in my ass, want you to fill me up.” Bucky groans at the thought of his excessive load running out of your ass. Leaning back, he ruts against your pussy, gathering more of your slick, before spreading your cheeks with his hands, staring at your puckered hole. He lines his cock up and watches as precum leaks from his tip.
His cock is huge, much longer and thicker than average, and he knows it. Grabbing himself near his tip, he pushes, grunting at the resistance, knowing that this would be much easier if he takes the time to prep you, but you want to be treated like a whore. “You gotta loosen the fuck up, bitch or else I’ll really fucking hurt you. Want this fucking ass so bad, better let daddy in. Cock is too big for this little ass, isn’t it, gonna split you in half, leave you leaking for days.” 
He pushes harder, tip finally popping in, causing searing pain to shoot through you. Crying out, you try to pull forward to escape the burning pain, wiggling further into the couch. Bucky leans over, careful not to push in any further, he knows you need a moment, any other time you would have been fully prepped and he would have slid right in, and wraps his metal hand around your neck, shushing you, “Shhhh, stop being so dramatic.” 
After a few minutes, the pain begins to subside and your breathing calms down. Keeping his hand around your throat, he pushes in, inch by inch, and the pain comes back. You whine into the cushion, every new inch burning more than the last until his hips are flush with your ass. “What the fuck?! Your ass is so fu-fucking tight, shit! Fucking milking my cock, wanna pound this little hole, wanna fucking ruin you.”
Burying his face in the back of your neck, Bucky was taking deep breaths, completely out of it. He wasn’t thinking straight, not when your tight hole was hugging every inch of his cock. You on the other hand, were struggling, it was too much too fast. It fucking hurt, there were tears in your eyes, but your pussy was aching like it wanted more. Your clit throbbed with need, even when your ass was stretched to the brim.
You didn’t want to stop, but you needed a break, before Bucky could move his hips you muttered, “Yellow, daddy, yellow.” The hand on your neck left and Bucky maneuvered his upper body so that he could look you in the eye without moving his cock. His entire demeanor was different, back was your sweet, caring boyfriend. 
“Good girl, daddy’s so proud of you for using your safe word. Shhh, it’s okay, sugar. Do you just need a second to breathe? Take your time, if you need to stop I will.” Bucky caresses your face as he soothes you, bringing you back down. His cock is still buried to the hilt in your ass, driving him insane. He wants to rail you so fucking bad, tip of his cock probably purple by now, but he would never do anything you didn’t want to, more than willing to sit with his cock inside of you until you’re ready or decide to stop.
You don’t know how much time passes, but eventually, you loosen up and your mind goes fuzzy once again, desperate for him to move. You wiggle your hips, rocking back and forth, instead of pain, blinding pleasure courses through you. “Green, daddy. I’m ready, just needed to get used to your fat cock, want you to pound into me.” Bucky lets out the most sinful groan and stills your hips with his hands.
He starts out slow, easing you into his motions, gradually gaining speed and force the louder your moans get. “Daddy, faster, please, harder, feels so good!” You were practically sobbing, loving the way he was splitting you open. His hips and thighs were wet from when you squirted on him, slapping against your ass, everytime he pulled back a vulgar shlick sound could be heard.
He fucked you faster and harder, staring at where you were connected. “This fucking ass feels incredible. Taking me so well, knew you could do it, fuck. Splitting your tiny ass in half. Oh God!” He could feel his orgasm building up, fighting it off everytime his cum filled sack slapped against your pussy. Letting go of your hips he snarled, “Show daddy how much of a fucking slut you are and bounce that fat ass on his cock.”
You whined, but complied anyway, digging your toes into the floor to get more leverage to keep slamming back on his cock. The sounds of skin slapping and both of your moans completely drowned out the ending of Bucky’s movie, not that either of you cared. Panting and moaning, you kept working yourself on him, feeling another orgasm bubbling up.
Meeting your thrusts, Bucky was rambling, not having one coherent thought in his head, “Look at that, give me that ass, yes! Don’t you dare fucking stop, bitch, want you to milk this cock. Love the way it fucking bounces, never seen anything like it, oh fuck!” He was getting whiny, high pitched moans falling from his lips. He couldn’t help it, his cock was too fucking sensitive and you felt too good. 
“M Gonna cum, daddy! Can I cum?” Bucky practically growls, getting up to his feet to squat, not missing a beat while still trusting in you. Every time his pelvis met your ass he whined and whimpered, loving the way it jiggled. He could feel you clenching around him, drawing his own orgasm closer.
“Not until I do. Fucking hold it, bitch.” It seemed impossible, but Bucky fucked you even faster, his hips moving at a ferocious speed. He wanted to cum so fucking bad and your high pitched moans were about to make him bust. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. I’m gonna fucking nut. You want daddy to fill your ass up, huh? God! Fuck, I’m splitting you in two. Uhhh. Balls are so heavy, so much cum. Fuuuuuuck. Daddy’s gonna fill you up, have you leaking.”
His hand wraps around your throat and chokes you, hips still smashing against yours, your orgasm barely being held in. You try to talk, get him to let you cum, but no words come out. Bucky felt his orgasm approach, balls pulling up, “Shiiit, daddy’s gonna cum, gonna flood your ass, you ready, cum with your daddy. Right. Fucking. Now.” Bucky cums with a long, drawn out moan. The feeling of his endless load pouring into your ass sends you over the edge and you cum so hard your vision goes black for a second. Waves upon waves of pleasure coursing through you. Bucky’s hips jerk involuntarily, prolonging both of your orgasms. 
As you both catch your breaths, you feel Bucky begin to soften inside of you, still plugging your hole, stopping his cum from leaking back out. “You were so good for me, sugar. I’m so proud of you.” At those words you feel your bottom lip begin to tremble. Burying your face into the cushions, a sob escapes your throat, all of your emotions finally bubbling over.
Running his hands up and down your back, Bucky soothes you. This was always his least favorite part, seeing you cry. He knows that you’re crying isn’t because of him, but there is always a twinge of fear that shoots through his body, scared that he went too far with you. Bucky pulls out as gently as he can, hissing when the air touches his spent dick, and moves to rest his back against the couch, pulling you into his lap.
Neither of you care that his cum is leaking all over. Bucky will clean the room later, after he takes care of his sweet girl. You cling to him as you sob into his neck, his hands massage your sore cheeks as he whispers in your ear, “Such a good girl for me, you made me feel so fucking good. Can’t even begin to explain how good you felt. There you go, let it out. I’m right here.”
Carefully, he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. When he tries to set you down you just cling on harder to him, not wanting to leave his embrace. “I gotta draw us a bath, sugar. You know you have to pee, I’ll be right here when you’re done.” You hesitantly let him go while he draws the bath, putting in your favorite oils. After you pee and wipe, he helps you up so you can wash your hands before sitting you both in the tub.
Bucky sits against the wall of the tub and you curl further into his lap, not wanting any space in between you. Somehow you still aren’t close enough to him, wanting to be surrounded completely by him. Tears are still leaking down your face and even with Bucky’s consuming presence, you can’t seem to pull yourself up to the surface. Bucky’s arms are wrapped around you, making sure that you are as close as possible without him being inside of you.
“Sweets, can you look at me? Want to see those pretty eyes.” You can hear the concern in Bucky’s voice, but you can’t bring yourself to move away. He’s your safe space and you just want to bask in his warmth. “Sweets, please. Can you tell me how you feel? I need to know you’re okay.” You don’t know why that set you off, but all of a sudden more tears escape you, sobs fighting to make their way out.
Bucky’s entire world stops, fear shoots up his spine. He doesn’t know if he could live with himself if he hurt you, if he did something that you didn’t want. He knows that you asked him to treat you like a whore, but what if you didn’t want him to go as far as he did? You used your safe word when it got to be too much, but what if you really wanted to say red, not yellow, but wanted to please him, or felt like you had to please him. “Sweetheart, did I hurt you? Did I go too far? Please talk to me.”
Even though you didn’t want to talk, you could hear that he was about to cry. “I’m okay. Just love you so much.” You could feel Bucky relax under you.
“You sure, sweets? I’ve never seen you like this before.” While some of his fears subsided, Bucky was still worried about you.
Picking your head up so you could look him in the eye, you saw just how scared Bucky truly was. “I promise, Buck, I loved every second of it. You made me feel so good and cared for. No one has ever made me feel the way you do.” Bucky closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall. At that moment, Bucky understood why aftercare was so important. Of course he knew you needed to be taken care of so that you knew how much he loved you, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him feel loved in a way he didn’t know was possible. 
Before the water gets cold you’ve stopped crying, making Bucky feel much better and he washes the sweat and spit off of your face and body, being extra careful with your sensitive pussy and ass. All the while whispering sweet nothings into your ear while you take turns kissing each other all over.
Bucky feels ten times lighter when he gets a giggle out of you. He knows that there will be days when you need him to treat you like a slut, but you know how much he loves and respects you. He lays you on the bed before grabbing your favorite lotion to put on, being extra careful when it comes to your sore ass, placing kisses in each spot after he's rubbed in the lotion.
 The marks on your face are gone by now, but Bucky still fusses over your skin care routine, knowing you don’t have the energy to complete it. After taking care of you, he climbs into bed and covers the both of you up, still naked but you don’t care. Bucky reaches into the bedside drawer and grabs some chocolate while you feed it to each other. Neither of you say much, but nothing needs said. 
You place kisses on his chest and arms, anywhere that you can reach, trying to let him know how much you appreciate him - Bucky knows. You fall asleep first, not being able to keep your eyes open any longer, Bucky moves you to his chest, cocooning you into him before he falls asleep, your head tucked carefully under his chin, legs tangled together, completely protected by him.
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queers-gambit · 8 months
Text
Curiosity Killed The Cat
prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.
pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Marvel
word count: 5.1k+
note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.
warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.
browse the Clingy Baby collection masterlist here
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Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.
You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.
Rooted.
But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.
You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.
This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.
You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?
Curiosity, indeed.
Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...
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"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."
"And the jalapeños?"
"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."
"Cream cheese?"
"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."
Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."
"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"
"Lemme pick you up."
"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."
He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"
"Let's do a white tonight, please."
"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "
"Hang on," you pleaded.
"What's wrong?"
"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"
"We haven't been to Paris in months."
You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."
Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."
"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"
"So, is that a yes?"
"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"
"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"
"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."
"I'll bring the camera."
"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"
"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.
"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"
"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"
There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "
"It's 15," he growled.
"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."
"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "
"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."
"Don't hurt her - "
"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."
The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.
He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).
For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.
"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."
You sniffled, unable to respond.
He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"
You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."
The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."
"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."
"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."
You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.
At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.
"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.
"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"
You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.
Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.
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And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.
You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.
Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.
Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.
So now... To hear this... You were devastated.
You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.
You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.
"She's different, man."
"How so?" Sam wondered.
"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "
"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.
"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."
"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.
"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."
"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."
"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"
Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"
"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."
"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."
"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.
"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."
"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."
"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"
There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.
So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."
"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"
You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.
"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.
"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"
"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."
"Peach - "
"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.
"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"
"Sure."
Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"
You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.
Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.
Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?
You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"
"Out with Nat," you eased.
He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"
"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."
His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."
"I know."
"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.
And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.
When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."
The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.
You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.
Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.
Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.
Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.
After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.
"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.
"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.
"What?"
"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"
"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."
"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"
"About...?"
"Me."
"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."
Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.
"Huh?" Nat wondered.
"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.
"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."
Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"
"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"
"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."
"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.
"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."
"Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."
"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."
"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."
"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."
"They can take it."
"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"
"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.
"Bucky," she growled.
He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."
"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."
"Why lie, then?"
"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."
"No shit."
"Well, did you get into a fight?"
"No."
"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"
He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."
"You had to do something."
"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."
Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"
Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."
"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."
"I didn't mean - "
"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."
Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"
"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"
Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.
The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.
Clingy...
You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...
His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.
When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"
You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.
He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."
"I'm here."
"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.
"What's wrong?"
"You. You're what's wrong."
"What the fuck does that - "
"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."
You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.
"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "
"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."
"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."
You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "
"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."
You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."
"It's not."
"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."
He nodded, "What else can I do?"
"Nothing - "
"Peach."
You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"
"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.
"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"
"All right... Sure, okay..."
"And face masks."
He sighed, "Okay."
"And mani-pedis."
"Baby."
"You said you were making it up to me, right?"
He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."
"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."
"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."
"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."
"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."
You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.
Felt okay.
Appeared okay.
And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.
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downbadf0rficppl · 3 months
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pink in the night
Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Summary: Some interesting rumours have been circling around about Bucky. Little do you know, it's kinda your fault.
Word Count: 4.5K
Warnings: Porn with a bit of plot, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, soft Buck, SMUT!!!!
AN: Sorry y'all! It's kinda a bit shit but listen, it's self-indulgent so idc :) This is kinda inspired by 'Pink in the Night' by Mitski which I was listening to while writing this. Have a good rest of the week, y'all <3
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Bucky had a love-hate relationship with being your neighbour. On the one hand, he loved seeing your face as you left your room every morning, hair not yet slicked to perfection, and sleep still evident on your face. You seemed a lot more innocent in the morning - conversations more idle.
On the other hand - and perhaps as a downside to his more sensitive hearing - you drove him crazy with the knowledge of things that perhaps he wasn't supposed to know.
This night was no different. You had headed off to bed after a long day, bidding everyone in the kitchen a good night. You grabbed a water bottle before slipping into the elevator, Bucky not far behind. You stepped out of the elevator together and you wished him sweet dreams before slipping into your room. Oh, his dreams were going to be far from sweet.
You see, your beds were pushed up to opposite sides of the same wall, so he could hear you relax on your bed. He could hear you shuffle to strip into just your underwear, and how your hand slipped into your panties. He could hear how your breath hitched as you circled your clit, and your soft moans as you plunged your fingers into your cunt or as your vibrator dipped in between your folds.
He could almost envisage you doing it - a forbidden porno that took root in his mind every night that he heard you finger yourself to completion. The rosy pink flush that you would glow as you came all over your hand. Your heavy rise and fall of your chest as you came down from your high. The small smile that would adorn your face as rolled over to fall asleep - the oxytocin released coursing through your veins.
He felt disgusting as he did - one of those creeps that he intended to protect you from for the rest of his life. But after you'd fallen asleep, he'd hop into the shower to cool his body and his mind - to throw the detestable thoughts of you to the far corners of his mind. But as he fell asleep, you'd re-enter his mind in a different way. A more safe-for-work way. You'd be in his arms, cuddling him and whispering sweet words of encouragement. You'd be cooking him dinner while he told you funny stories about his life with scrawny Steve in the 40s; he'd be washing the dishes while you sat on the counter tell him about your day. He'd worry for your well-being - not as an overbearing coworker but as a loving, doting boyfriend. Maybe husband.
Bucky was getting ahead of himself - he'd have to work up the courage to have more than a few-word conversation with you. But for now, wishing he could hold your hand would have to suffice.
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Being Bucky's neighbour was not much easier. Especially when he was completely oblivious to your plight. Even the slight brush of a hand made your heart flutter.
You loved seeing him early in the morning - he always seemed less reserved when he was fresh from a good night's rest. He was faster to smile, faster to laugh. It was nice. You woke up at an ungodly hour to see him just before he headed on his morning run. You couldn't deny that the morning light did wonders for him - you were always left wanting more when he dipped into the elevator.
Oh, and the sounds. Your hearing was not quite as superior as Bucky's, but you definitely heard things that left you clenching around thin air.
You knew Bucky wasn't one to self-complete often - in fact, it was rare that you ever caught on to the act. But you had caught the odd broken moan coming from his room. You turned into molten mush, the weight of your arousal buckling your knees. If there was any sound that could turn you to putty, it was that.
You didn't how many times the idea of Bucky fucking you had played through your mind, but each night a different variation brought you the same ending - your fingers deep in your cunt, coaxing you to a climax.
Every night, you wished his cock, tongue, fingers were filling you up instead of yours, leaving you aching and wishing for more. You wanted to run your nails down his back - leaving permanent reminders of your love for him - while he nipped at your neck - leaving marks claiming you as his.
Sometimes, your brain caught up to your thoughts, reprimanding you for your possessiveness. He wasn't yours, you had to remind yourself, even if you wished he was. For that, you'd have to actually have to have more than a few-word conversation with him - which to be honest, seemed impossible. So you stuck to your nightly wishful dreaming, hoping one day he'd be yours. Only yours.
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Summer was the worst for Bucky. You were the type to spend hours upon hours out in the sun, coming back with a budding tan and rosy complexion - it did nothing to quell the budding images flashing in the back of his mind. You. Under him. Panting. Moaning his name as he brought you to the edge. Over and over again. Face glowing pink as you gaze up into his eyes, drunk on love and his cock. Bucky had to excuse himself to splash cold water on his face.
It didn't help that the clothing you wore did nothing to help his imagination. The semi-sheer tops, the shorts, the swimsuit and bikinis. Every time he saw you, he immediately had to duck back inside to deal with 'a little problem'. More like a very large, very hard, and very obvious problem.
Still, he enjoyed your company more than he had for the better part of his time living in the compound. He listened to your stories, your jokes, helped solve your issues. He felt that - even if you weren't quite what he wanted you to be - your relationship was blossoming into something quite beautiful. And that made him feel a lot braver - he introduced a little comment here and there, a hand always on your waist or the small of your back. He flirted with you from time to time: just to gauge a meter on your reactions, he'd tell himself, as if this was an experiment to crack a hypothesis that had been perplexing scientists for years.
The sun was peaking over the top of the trees surrounding the compound when you woke up. That was a rarity in summer, given that the sun rose at nearly 5am. Still, you didn't miss out on the opportunity to watch the sunrise, curling up on your windowsill with your blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders.
You heard Bucky opening his door, and you ran towards yours, grabbing your phone and slippers on your way. You opened your door just as he closed his. He was dressed in gym wear - as always - since he was going on his morning run around the compound track. It was a nice track - one that you rarely frequented - going in and out of the forest behind the compound, totalling about 4.5 miles in distance.
He took you in, eyes bulging as they raked over you. You looked down, following his gaze. Shit. In your rush to see Bucky, you'd forgotten that your nightwear had consisted of some flimsy shorts and your bra - that you had thrown on after waking up to save a modicum of dignity, should someone burst into your room. It was too hot for anything else. You crossed your arms over your chest, which indefinitely made the issue worse as Bucky's eyes lifted way over your head.
"Looking good, babe!" Nat yells, walking across the landing toward you both. Clearly, Bucky had been intending to go on a run with her, maybe fit in a quick sparring session. You sent them on their way, with a 'have fun' and 'don't have too much fun.'
As soon as you were back in the comfort of your room, Nat elbowed Bucky hard.
"Oww! What the fuck was that for?" Rubbing his metal arm, for the convincing act.
"Oh please, you big baby. You have a fucking metal arm, get over yourself." She looked down, "You have a bit of a situation going on down there."
He looks down, embarrassment flushing his cheeks bright red, and subtly tucked his hard dick into his waistband.
"You wanna go sort that out? I won't hold it against you," Nat said, hitting the button to call the lift, "I promise not to tell Stark. Scout's honour." She jokingly holds up 3 fingers. Bucky swats her arm gently.
"No point."
Nat gasps, "No way. Don't tell me Mr. Winter Soldier can't have sex."
"Not sex," Bucky mumbles, "Just jerking off. Can't seem to - you know - finish."
Bucky had a history with Nat. They'd known each other for years. That kind of history made this kind of conversation somewhat less uncomfortable.
Nat burst into laughter. So much for not being uncomfortable.
The lift stopped on Sam's floor. He stepped in, gazing warily at the scene in front of him: the Black Widow doubled over in laughter, and the Winter Soldier embarrassed and uncomfortable in the corner.
He begged to be let in on the joke. Nat wheezed between laughs, "He - can't - fucking - cum!" Bursting into another bout of laughter, with Sam close behind, Bucky jumps out on the next floor, heading to the roof for some fresh air. He catches you up there, trying out some morning yoga. He sneaks up behind you as your stand up, grabbing your waist. You shriek, hitting him hard in the chest, before melting into his embrace once your brain caught up to the situation.
"Not fair!" You pouted, pausing your peaceful music, "Yoga's supposed to be peaceful!"
Bucky chuckles, pulling you into another hug, feeling you wrap your arms around his neck.
"I thought you were going on a run with Nat?" You whispered into his ear, your cheek resting on his clavicle.
"She ditched me for Sam." Bucky opted to leave out the real reason why he had left Nat and Sam in pieces in the elevator.
"Sucks to be you, Barnes!" You laugh pulling away and stepping back onto your mat. "Now leave me alone - just 'cause your friends abandoned you, doesn't mean you can bother me."
Bucky pouted, causing you to laugh before you turned back to your Yoga. He stood there and watched you for a minute, before heading back down to the gym. He strung up a punching bag, before wrapping his flesh wrist. Bucky took all his pent-up aggression and frustration out on the punching bag, allowing no respite between each jab, cross, and hook.
He stayed in the gym for over 3 hours, working every bit of stress out of his body. By the time he left the gym, the sun was high in the sky and a long day of paperwork and training awaited. Bucky headed up to his room for a quick shower - washing all the sweat off his body.
He felt lighter heading downstairs for breakfast - the weight of his arousal pushed far back in his mind. There was nothing he could do about it anyway.
Since deciding he would pursue you honestly, he couldn't seem to finish, no matter how hard he tried. You had been the only thing to push him over the edge - it seemed his body couldn't do it without you. It was frustrating beyond belief. He'd tried other things, porn, erotica, even thinking back to good times before the war. Nothing helped. It was as if his body was finetuned to you - only you knew the magic password to release him. Figuratively and literally.
When he reached the kitchen, he was privy to a welcome sight. You, in your combat gear, grabbing some granola bars before you jumped on the quinjet. You and Stark were heading on a surveillance mission in Guatemala for the week. You were reaching up to the top shelf, stretching on your tiptoes for the expensive granolas that had been kept on the top shelf. Bucky's granola bars that he had put there to stop anyone else from stealing them.
He reached up from behind you and grabbed the box, placing it in your hands. You looked guilty. You'd been caught red-handed.
"It's fine, doll. Take as many as you want." He said, leaning back against the counter, resting on his forearms. Your face flushed red as you grabbed 2 or 3, shoving them into your bag and turning around to fill up your water bottle.
You shivered when his hot breath fanned across your exposed neck, "Just remember that you owe me."
He was gone by the time you turned around.
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The rumour had spread like wildfire while you were away.
"Did you hear that Bucky can't have sex?"
"I heard that Bucky can't - you know - cum?"
"Apparently, his time at Hydra fucked him up worse than he realised."
"He can't even masturbate you know?"
The rumours were getting out of hand, but he let them swirl. There was an ounce of truth to them, even if Hydra had nothing to do with his current predicament.
No, that blame could only lie with you.
When you got back, Bucky had just left on a 4-day-long mission with Sam - which meant you heard all the rumours and Bucky wasn't there to defend himself.
You heard it first when you dropped your suit off for dry-cleaning. One of the tech guys was whispering to Marta, the woman who looked after the dry cleaning of suits, about Bucky's apparent inability to ejaculate. You were shocked. Where the hell did they even get that information? You dropped off your suit and headed back up to your room to shower.
You then heard another mention of it when you went to drop off your reports. Two of the agents that were being reassigned to Steve's team - that were currently on a month-long mission in Chad - were gossiping outside Tony's office.
" - and apparently she ran out crying. Thought she wasn't good enough for him or something along those lines. I don't know."
"Yeah, apparently the breakup was grizzly."
"I feel bad for him you know, all of the shit he went through with Hydra, and now this?"
"Yeah, man, really sucks."
Your face blushed a bright red. What the fuck? Where did this rumour even come from? You knew for a fact that Bucky hadn't had a girlfriend since living in the compound so wherever that part of the rumour came from was completely untrue.
You had to get to the bottom of this.
You spent the better part of the next 2 days collecting bits of information from conversations between people around the compound. You found out that the rumour had originated from a conversation between Nat and Sam, which an agent had overheard while they were on their run. It had been twisted as most oral stories were leading to this big misleading idea that Bucky was unable to even get it up and that he was unable to please a woman. You were sure the latter part was untrue. You'd heard the way he moaned alone in his room - you were sure that you could cum just from his moans alone. He wouldn't even need to touch you.
You didn't think the rumour would affect you when Bucky got back. After all, you knew at least some of it to be false. But when he got back, his beard grown out a little because he couldn't shave it while he was away, you felt embarrassed. Not because of his supposed 'predicament' but because you felt as if you had found out something that you maybe weren't supposed to know.
Bucky caught on quicker than you would have liked. The night after he got back, Tony had thrown a little get-together to 'celebrate midsummer'. Realistically, Tony just wanted a reason to go out and drink with his friends. You had avoided Bucky most of the night - not necessarily intentionally, but Bucky still felt slightly hurt and more than a little confused.
He caught you alone on the balcony, looking out at the stars.
"Did I do something?" He said, sneaking up behind you and making you jump. Nervousness and insecurity laced his every move, worried that he had hurt you in some way that he couldn't possibly imagine.
You shook your head violently, scared to make eye contact with him. He lifted your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his.
"What's wrong?" You turned back to face the sky, embarrassment filling your chest. He laced his metal fingers into yours, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
"It's stupid."
"No, it's not. Nothing's stupid, not if it's you." Your heart fluttered at his words.
Your eyes met his steady gaze, "It's really stupid." His eyes begged you to go on, "It's just that - um - when I got back I - um - heardthisreallystupidrumourandIshouldn'thaveletitgettomebutbasically -"
Bucky placed a hand on your waist, drawing small circles, "Breathe."
"Someone said you had trouble pleasing women." You let out quietly. If it hadn't been for his enhanced hearing, he probably would have missed you. His grip on your waist tightened, "Bucky?"
"Trouble pleasing women? That's a new one." His deep voice cut you to your core. You let out a small whimper as the arousal pooled in your panties.
Bucky didn't miss that either.
He grabbed your arm and led you through the party. No one gave you a double look as he lead you into the vacant elevator, slamming your floor number and pushing you up against the wall.
"Think I can't please a woman, huh? Think again. Don't think I don't know what you think about when you cum all over your hand, whining my name under your breath." You whined lowly at his words, feeling how he pushed his hard dick perfectly in line with your throbbing pussy, "Isn't that right, slut? That's what you are, aren't you? My perfect little slut?" You moan at his degrading statement, pushing your pussy further onto his cock trying to find some friction.
"So needy," He tutted, his condescending tone only heightening your arousal. The elevator door pinged and Bucky picked you up bridal-style, kicking the door to your room open. You regularly forgot to lock it while heading down to dinner - for once, both you and Bucky were glad.
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He dropped you on your bed, unceremoniously, eyes raking over you ravenously. The heat rose up your face, as you shifted under his unrelenting gaze.
"Oh baby, you don't how long I've been waiting for this." He leaned down locking your lips in a passionate kiss. His palm landed just above your knee, caressing up your leg towards your upper thigh. His hand slid under your dress, cupping your ass. He left a light squeeze, making you gasp into the kiss.
He leaned down, grabbing you with ease, flipping you both so you were straddling his waist. He tangled his flesh hand in your hair, the metal one possessively gripping your hip. He brought you down to his lips for another kiss - even when you were on top, he made sure you knew that he was in charge.
He toyed with the hem of your dress, eyes raking over you once again.
"Off."
You pulled the dress over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties. You felt seriously underdressed, especially considering Bucky was still in his jacket. He reaches up, joining your lips in another kiss, and reaching around to remove your bra. He tosses it to the side, running his knuckles over your pebbled nipples. You moan loudly, panties soaked. He takes his time pinching and squeezing your nipples, licking and biting as he went. The alternate sensations of one warm hand and one ice-cold heighten your arousal ten-fold. You buck your hips over his jeans, the sensation of his fly between your sensitive folds throwing you into overdrive.
His grip on your waist tightened once again. "I can feel your cunt throbbing, honey." You whimpered pathetically. "Go ahead, use me to get off. I know you want to."
Your hips started bucking off their own accord, clothed pussy running over the fly of his jeans. They started slow, getting a feel for what exactly you were doing. Bucky's hands started pushing you faster, setting a faster groove. The coil in your stomach began to tighten as your bucking became more erratic. You teetered on the edge of an orgasm when Bucky stopped you.
"Beg." He restarted your pace, faster and more erratic than before.
"Please, please, please, please, Bucky, please let me cum, please..-" You babbled, tripping and stumbling through your pleas. With a searing kiss, he gives you permission.
"I love you, I love you, I love, OH-" You fall off the edge of one of the hardest orgasms you've ever had, head empty with only one thing on your mind. Bucky.
You feel Bucky manhandle your body so your back is lying on the bed and he is towering over you. He asks you if you want to go on and all you can do is nod your head vigorously.
He chuckles, "I like your enthusiasm baby, but I need words. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, YES!" You shout, breathlessly, already needing more.
He's fully naked and it's all you can do to not stare. He's definitely a well-endowed man, and he definitely has no problem getting it up.
"Like what you see?" He smirks, and you slap his thigh playfully. He pulls you further toward the edge of the bed and lines his dick up with your slick folds. He slides in slowly, holding your chin up so you keep eye contact with him. He watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head in satisfaction. You've never felt so full in your life. He presses into you slowly, feeling the way your tightness engulfs him, allowing your body to adjust to his size. You whimper softly as he pushes in - you never realised just how desperate you were for him.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He chuckles, watching as tears leak out of your eyes. His condescending tone was back, and all it did was make you hornier. You babbled incoherently, "Gone dumb already? What a cock-drunk little slut you are."
He trails a metal finger up the side of your torso, watching the goosebumps left in its wake. You whimper again.
"Such a needy little baby. Only I can take care of you like this, right? Only me."
"Only you." You affirmed, pressing a kiss to the arm near your head.
He pulled out almost entirely, before slamming all the way back in. You screamed in pleasure, and Bucky set a brutal pace. He pinned your arms above your head with his right hand, and his left hand came to wrap around your throat. The significance of that was not lost on you. He loved you enough to not hurt you, even with his metal arm.
"I love you, baby. You know that right?" Bucky looked you deep in the eyes, "You know I love you right?"
"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you," You babble back, lost in the throes of passion.
Bucky found your clit with his metal hand, pressing and flicking gently. You felt your muscles tighten for a second time, and you grabbed the sheets throwing your head back as you came harder than the first time.
Bucky came moments later, deep inside you with a loud moan. He pulled out slowly, collapsing next to you. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling yourself into his neck.
He chuckled at that, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a bear hug. You stayed like that for a minute before he untangled himself from you and carried you to the bathroom.
He turned on the shower and you both stepped under it, cleaning the sweat and cum off your bodies. Your legs felt like jelly, so you leaned heavily into Bucky as he washed you off.
"Stay awake, doll, just for a second," He said, shaking you awake each time you dozed off in the shower.
Bucky pulled some of your clothes onto your body, before setting you down on the bed. He gave you a quick kiss to the forehead before promising to be back soon.
He snuck into his room wrapped in a towel, before throwing on the first pair of sweats he could find and dashing to the kitchen for a cup of water.
He snuck back into your room, to see you already dead asleep on the bed. He slipped under the covers, tugging you closer to his chest, and smiled.
Through your grogginess, you nuzzled into his chest. "I love you." You whispered, your lips resting against his heart.
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You woke up to the sound of soft snoring in your ear and sunlight streaming through the window. You smiled. You untangled yourself from Bucky's arms, disappearing into your bathroom to pee. You wash your face and brush your teeth before diving back into Bucky's arms.
Your legs were still sore from last night, but you didn't care. You were Bucky's and Bucky was yours. The very thought put a massive smile on your face.
"What's tickled your feather this morning?" Goddamn, his morning voice was sexy. You smiled and pressed a hard kiss to his lips.
Bucky smiled through the kiss. He picked you up by the thighs, carrying you while he brushed his teeth and splashed his face.
The compound was pretty silent, barely anyone was awake after drinking the night away. So, while Bucky made you pancakes for breakfast, you asked him the question, "Hey, Buck, where did the rumour come from?"
He looked at you, vaguely embarrassed, "You know that day, when me and Nat were gonna go down to train?"
You face flushed red, "When I walked out in my underwear?"
"Yeah," he chuckled, "I got a hard-on, like a teenage boy."
You stifled a laugh.
"So, Nat said, do I wanna go deal with it? And I told her I couldn't."
You looked at him confused, "Why not?"
"Cause of you," he said simply. You looked at him even more confused, "You were the only thing I got get off to. I tried everything else. Porn, erotica, even thinking about old sex. Nothing worked."
You flushed red again. "Oh god, I've weirded you out, haven't I?" You broke off his impending spiral with a kiss.
"I love you." You said, placing a kiss on his bare chest.
He looked at you with such love and reverence that you felt like you might combust under his gaze.
He kissed you again and all you could think was, "I love you, I love you, I love you."
I love you, I love you, I love you.
I love you I love you I love you.
fin.
buy me a coffee
3K notes · View notes
imyourbratzdoll · 8 months
Note
hiii baby 🤍
weird request maybe…
But reader being tired of dating but really wanting a baby…like she just really doesn’t want to wait for the perfect man to settle down with, but she really really really wants a baby.
So she asks childhood!bestfriend!bucky or like childhood!bestfriend!CE!Character to impregnate her…
He (being secretly in love with her) agrees, so they make one 😩
hi honey! not weird at all! I loved this, I'm hoping I did it justice and that you love it!
summary - you've decided to stop going on dates when the last one fails and go to your best friend for the thing you desperately want.
warning - smut, breeding kink, unrequited love (or not), horrible dates, creampie, swearing, slight angst.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
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You sigh, having just come back from yet another failed date. No man seemed to live up to the expectation you were looking for. You sagged into the couch, kicking your shoes off and beginning to massage your temples. “Ugh, I’ll never find the perfect man to settle down with…” You look down at your stomach, and your mind fills with images of you being pregnant. Your eyes blink it away as you rub your belly. “I just want a baby… Is that so hard?” 
Your eyes widen when you realise you have the perfect plan. Bucky! He’s your best friend, an ideal option for a sperm donor. You quickly dig through your purse and pull out your phone, unlocking it and quickly sending him a message. 
‘Hey, are you able to come over? I have something important to ask you.’ You send the text, gnawing on your bottom lip as you wait for his response, watching the three little dots appear. 
‘Sure, I’ll be there in 10 minutes with your favourite snacks.’ 
You smile, quickly jumping up and running to your room. You strip from the clothes you sadly wasted on your date and changed into a red lingerie set that Bucky got you for your birthday. You smirked when you remembered how flushed Bucky looked as you opened the gift bag and promised to show him one day. You walk over to the mirror and fix your make-up, reapplying your red gloss. 
When you hear the door unlock, you quickly throw on your silk robe and head out of your room, ready to greet Bucky. He enters and smiles when he sees you waiting there for him. His heart practically pounds out of his chest as you smile back at him, walking over and wrapping your arms around his body. “Hey, I got us some Chinese.” He wraps one arm around you, tightly holding the bag of food with the other. 
“You came so fast!” Your cheeks heat up at the innuendo of your words. You don’t notice the pout on his lips as you pull away from him and begin to walk toward the lounge room. “C’mon, I’d feel better asking you the thing while sitting down… I don’t really know how you’ll feel about it.” Your chew on your bottom lip, your nerves getting to you as you realise if he says no, you’ll possibly be ruining a good friendship.
Bucky follows you like a lost puppy, practically feeling your nerves radiating off of you. His eyes shamefully land on your arse, watching your hips sway as you walk before him. “So, uh… How did your date go?” This would be the tenth date this week that you’ve been on, and as your best friend, Bucky knows all about them and how lately they haven’t been going well. Except for his heart that constantly broke every time you told him you had a date with everyone but him. Bucky sits beside you, pulling out the hot food and handing you your usual. 
“Shit like the others.” You immediately begin to stuff your face with food, starving from storming off during the date. “From the moment we met, all he spoke about was himself and the women he’s been with. Then when we sat down to eat, he ordered for me, but when I stood up for myself and ordered what I wanted. He decided to call me a cow and fat and that no man would ever love me if I didn’t let them take control of my life.” You growl, shovelling more food in your mouth. You swallow and look at Bucky, noticing the angry look behind his eyes but deciding to ignore that. “But, I came to a conclusion. You know how much I’ve been wanting a baby and have been trying to find the perfect man to settle down with.”
Bucky nods before frowning. “Please don’t tell me you're going to just sleep with one of these guys to get one.” His brows furrow. “You deserve more than that. You deserve someone that will be there for you and the baby.”
You wave him off, sucking some juice off your thumb. “Of course not. I had someone better in mind.” Your eyes connect with him, and Bucky’s brows raise when he puts the pieces together. “I want you to impregnate me, Bucky.”
“Y–you–” He swallows, blinking rapidly, wondering if he heard you right.
“I want you, Bucky. Just imagine how cute our baby would be, but I understand if you say no and no longer want to be–”
“Yes.”
“B–”
“Yes.” Bucky immediately scoots closer and cups your cheeks. “I’ll pump you full until you are carrying my child.” You feel slick gather between your thighs, turned on by his words. Bucky’s hands move down and undo your robe, choking on his saliva when his eyes land on the red lingerie set he had bought you. “You’re so beautiful…” He whispers, staring for a while before looking into your eyes. “D–do you want to go slow or…” Bucky swallows, knowing that you weren’t doing this because you felt anything for him. You were doing this to get a baby.
“Fast, for now, I just need you.” You whimper. You grasp the back of Bucky’s head and pull him toward you, devouring his lips with yours. “Please, fuck a baby into me.”
Bucky catches the for-now part, causing his heart to jump, knowing there might be another time. His breath catches as your lips connect, swearing that fireworks went off. His hand lands between your legs and begins to rub you through your knickers, letting out a moan as he feels how wet you are. “D–did you touch yourself before I got here?” 
You shake your head, “No, no….” You whine, back arching and legs spreading more as he touches you. Bucky feels his cock harden more when he realises he made you wet. “Bucky, please.” You blink the tears away, so overwhelmed with your feelings for your best friend and your horniness. You hadn’t been touched in so long, and to have Bucky finally touch you with the promise of putting a baby in you intensifies it.
Bucky leans back, giving you a look. “Are you sure about this? Because once I start, I really don’t think I’ll be able to stop.” You nod rapidly, gripping any part of him that you can. He places a hand under your chin. “I need words, Y/n.” 
“Yes, Bucky. I’m sure I want this.” You watch him remove your clothes, followed by his, and you gasp as your eyes land on his member. “You’re so big…” Bucky strokes his cock, lining it with your sopping cunt. As he pushes in, Bucky leans forward and connects his lips with yours, swallowing your moans. “O–oh…” 
His hands move down and grip your hips, thrusting deep, fast and hard into your tight walls. “Fuck, you feel so good, doll.” Your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer to you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he hits deep inside you, hitting places you’ve never reached before. “I can’t wait to pump you full of my cum, doll. Breed you.” He growls, getting lost in the feel of you. 
You moan, gripping onto your best friend, feeling him split you open, bringing you pleasure you’ve never felt before. You can’t wait until he fills you with his cum, giving you what you’ve always wanted. “Faster, Bucky, please.” You don’t know how he’s done it, but you're so close you can feel your orgasm just around the corner. 
Bucky’s hips begin to snap, slamming into you hard and fast. “Shit, doll. I’m so close.” His hand slides between your bodies, locating your clit and rubbing it. Your back arches, legs squeezing tighter around him as your juices squirt out of you, your walls pulsating around his thick cock. Bucky groans, burying his face into your neck, pounding into you before burying himself deep inside you. Thick spurts of cum shoot out of his mushroom tip as he pumps you full of his cream. “Fuck, fuck! There’s so much. It feels too good, doll!”
You sag into the couch, pulling Bucky along with you, enjoying the feeling of his softening cock inside of you. He stares at you, stroking your cheek, and you smile tiredly up at him. “Thank you, Bucky. I hope this takes, if not. We will have just to keep trying.”
Bucky smiles, “I’d be happy with that.” He leans forward and presses a soft kiss on your forehead.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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urdepressedslut · 10 months
Text
You’re Mine, Sunshine (masterlist) ♡
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♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader (Mob!Au Bodyguard!Au)
♡ Series Summary: Bucky gets picked by a very rich and respected man to be his daughter’s personal bodyguard. The Father warns him that it won’t be an easy job, that she is a brat and difficult to deal with. But what happens when Bucky meets you and you’re the complete opposite?
♡ Series Warnings: mentions of amputation, dark themes, violence, death/death threats, talk of parent death, fluff, angst, stalking, daddy issues, anxiety attacks/panic attacks, abuse, depression, depressive episodes, PTSD, dry humping, hints to smut, (warnings to be added as new chapters are released)
Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine ☀️
(SERIES ONGOING)
Last Updated: 9/8/23
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | SERIES 18+
⇨ Chapter One
↳ After Pierce interviews Bucky for the job, he warns him of you. Bucky is starting to rethink his decision, but when he meets you... you're not what he expected.
⇨ Chapter Two
↳ Bucky takes you home, and later finds you in the library. You both get to know each other a little better, but Bucky is hesitant.
⇨ Chapter Three
↳ Bucky has a surprise meeting with Pierce, getting informed about your secret admire. Meanwhile, Bucky tries to keep things professional, he’s hesitant to cross the line when you need him.
⇨ Chapter Four
↳ You don’t know what to think of Bucky after he took you to bed last night. Bucky can’t continue to keep the stalking situation hidden from you. Something is found on your doorstep.
⇨ Chapter Five
↳ Getting to know each other better doesn’t go according to plan. Bucky has to comfort you and fix the mess he made. Will you forgive him?
⇨ Chapter Six
↳ Bucky receives a morning visit from Steve, with the news about what was in the box. Bucky continues to think about what he should do. Should he tell you the truth about your stalker?
⇨ Chapter Seven
↳ Bucky finds you making a mess in the kitchen, attempting to bake and offers his help. The two of you get to talking and some reveals about each other begin to come out. Will he finally tell you about your stalker?
��� Chapter Eight
↳ After a surprise visit from Pierce, tension arises as he threatens Bucky of his job. Pierce wants to have a talk with you and it doesn't go very well.
⇨ Chapter Nine
↳ After the events from the other day, you try and cope with the reality of what happened. The world is a lot less colorful than you remember. Bucky helps comfort you after you realize you have no one left.
⇨ Chapter Ten
↳ Someone comes knocking at your door in the morning. Bucky answers and is surprised with who he finds. Are they going to help them or hurt them?
⇨ Chapter Eleven
↳ The tension can't be ignored anymore between you and Bucky. Steve shows up and he's not alone.
⇨ Chapter Twelve
↳ Reality is hitting you as you, Bucky, Steve and his men all venture off to a secret safe house only Steve knows about. The events from the last couple of days are starting to hit you with a sickening force, leaving you weak and crippled.
⇨ Chapter Thirteen
↳ Your dreams consist of random memories of your parents, but are they really random? Despite the past days of hell—you still find it difficult to resist Bucky. You two spend a heated morning together, devouring each other while you still have these moments.
5K notes · View notes
Text
Honey Girl.
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Synopsis - The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the Universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.
Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 5.1k
Warnings - cursing. sexual content towards the end. mild alcohol consumption. age gap. smut in next chapter(s).
Author's Note - part one is finally here!! thank you so much to everyone who asked to be tagged, and who liked and reblogged the masterlist. i am SO excited to share this with you. i've built this world in my head and trust me it is gorgeous - salty ocean breezes, sunsoaked sailboats and billowing white linen shirts. i hope you can lose yourself in my little seaside town with bucky for the time it takes you to read this, just as i did while writing it. i can't wait to write more of this series for you x
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Masterlist. Requests. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.
Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight.
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Tethering /tɛð(ə)rɪŋ/
An event in which two soulmates are bound together forever. Only occurs when the Universe decides it is time. No sooner, no later.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The gentle ocean breeze gives you a moment of respite from the scorching sun that's beating down. You're half asleep, laying on the cool tile of your balcony when your phone rings.
"Babe! Babe! Babe!"
"Lacie? Are you okay? What's wrong?"
"I am freaking out right now, oh my god. I didn't know who to call. You'll never guess what just happened to me!"
You can guess. In fact, you already have.
Lacie's Tethering. It's finally happened.
You're taught, growing up, that your Tethering is the biggest moment of your life. It shapes who you are forever. Sets you on your eternal path. You're presented with your soulmate in a big display of love and affection and metaphorical fireworks. It's supposed to be magical.
You wish people would shut up about it.
The World seems to be split into two categories - the people that have been Tethered, and the people that haven't.
You fall into the latter.
You're repeatedly told it'll happen one day. It'll happen when the time is right. It'll happen when you least expect it.
You're not sure you ever want it to happen.
The idea that the Universe determines the person you're with forever has never sat right with you. What happened to free will? What happened to personal preference? You believe you should at least have a choice in the matter. It's your future, after all.
Not everyone shares the same sentiment.
"Babe, you still there?"
Lacie's excitement filled voice pulls you back to reality.
"Yeah, I'm here."
"Are you busy? Can you meet me for coffee, like, now?"
You take a deep breath and plaster a fake smile on your face.
"Sure. I'll see you in ten."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Oh my god babe, it was just incredible! You won't even believe it. There's nothing like it, truly."
You remind yourself quickly that Lacie is your best friend, and that you owe it to her to be happy for her. Personal feelings about soulmates aside.
"Tell me all about it, Lace!" you encourage, grabbing a hold of her hand excitedly.
The blonde girl squeals before shuffling closer to you, pressing her knees against yours.
"Okay, so. Picture this. I'm at my gym, doing my usual routine. I'm wearing my super cute pink Lulu Lemon set, you know the one with the flowers?"
She waits for you to nod in affirmation before she continues.
"So, I accidentally drop a weight on the ground, and it makes the biggest noise. I'm super embarrassed, and I'm trying to pick it up, but it's so heavy. And then, the hottest guy I have ever seen appears. Like, seriously gorgeous."
As much as you despise the whole soulmate thing, you can't deny how happy Lacie seems. She's almost vibrating with it, bouncing up and down in her seat.
"He comes over and picks it up for me, sets in back on the rack. And then he introduces himself, and shakes my hand, and it happened."
"What was it like?" you smile, eager for her to carry on.
"Like fucking magic."
You've heard that before. A million times. From literally everyone. Surely it can't be that magical if billions of people have experienced it.
"Magic?" you prompt.
"It is indescribable, babe. It's like... it's like everything just falls into place. Like everything finally makes sense!"
She jumps out of her chair, hugging you tightly. She's practically sat on your lap in the coffee shop, but neither of you really care.
"So, what's his name? What's he like?"
"His name is Cameron. He's new in town, he just moved here for work. He's a personal trainer, so he's like, super fit. And gorgeous. Did I mention gorgeous?"
"Maybe once or twice," you laugh.
"I'm so happy," Lacie whispers, emotion choking her voice. "I can't believe it finally happened. This is the day I've been waiting for since I was a little girl."
You hug her tighter, and ignore the look you get from the barista.
"I love you," she declares, suddenly serious. "You know that me being Tethered now doesn't change that, right?"
"I know," you confirm. "I love you too, Lace. I'm really happy for you."
You genuinely mean it. Lacie has talked about meeting her soulmate every day since you met her in the 3rd grade. You may have never quite shared her enthusiasm, but you admire her passion. And you adore her, more than anyone.
"So, what now? Are you gonna get married tomorrow and run off into the sunset?"
"I'm choosing to ignore your sarcasm because I know you're using it as a coping mechanism," she tells you pointedly. "And I know that there's a tiny part of you that wishes you'd been Tethered already, so you don't have to deal with everyone talking to you about it."
Jackpot. She's read you like a book.
"No, we're not getting married tomorrow," she rolls her eyes before continuing, "but we are going on a real date tonight. We're gonna get dinner and get to know each other. Isn't this crazy? I'm going on a date with the guy I'm gonna be spending the rest of my life with!"
"That is kinda crazy, actually," you laugh. "What are you gonna wear?"
"It doesn't matter - we're going to be together forever anyway!"
You make Lacie promise to send you a picture of her outfit as you're leaving the coffee shop, which she agrees to with glee. On your way home, you pick up some of your Mom's favourite wine, and prepare yourself for another soulmate based conversation that will inevitably happen when you tell your parents the events of the day at dinner tonight.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Hi, sweetheart!" your Dad beams as you step through the front door of your childhood home.
"Hey, Dad," you greet, allowing him to pull you in for a hug. "Where's Mom? I brought wine."
"Kitchen," he gestures with a nod of his head. "She's making that mango dessert you like."
Walking into your Mother's kitchen is like dipping your feet into a pool on a scorching hot day. The windows are propped open, curtains billowing softly in the wind. The ocean breeze drifts through the room, ruffling your Mom's dress and floating the hair away from her face. The evening sun beams in, illuminating the space with a golden glow. It smells like fresh fruit, mint, and salt water. It's a haven.
"Hi, Mama."
"Oh, my love! Just in time. I was about to call you to see if you were alright."
She makes her way over to you and kisses you on the head swiftly, before walking to the cabinet to grab wine glasses.
"Sorry I'm a little later than I said. I changed my outfit three times - it's warmer than I thought it was going to be."
"I know! Summer, finally. We've been waiting long enough."
She takes the bottle of wine from your hand and pours it into the glasses.
"You've poured four, Mama."
"Didn't your Dad tell you? Bucky's joining us for dinner."
"Oh. No, he didn't mention anything."
"He's back from his vacation. He promised he'd show us all of the pictures he took!"
She grabs the glasses and floats out of the room, leaving you alone in the kitchen, thoughts of Bucky Barnes swirling around like dust in the sunlight.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky.
Your Dad's best friend.
They met a few years ago, when Bucky moved to town. He said he was looking for something quieter, sick of city living. He wanted to slow down a bit, finally take a breath.
He was out for a run around town, getting his bearings, when he stopped your Dad on the driveway to ask about his car. They bonded over their love for motorcycles and vintage vehicles, and the rest is history.
Bucky's been a regular fixture in your life for so long, you can't remember a time before. All you know, is that it was probably a little more peaceful. His boyish charm is infectious, bringing out the youth in your Dad. They're like teenagers, when they're together. Long lost frat brothers, your Mom jokes.
She's got a soft spot for him. Most people do. It might have something to do with the fact he's devastatingly handsome.
It's no secret that Bucky Barnes is a ladies man. He is without even trying. He's charming, gorgeous, funny in all the right ways. He's mysterious, but not disarming. Tough, but not scary. Rebellious, but not a liability. He's a catch.
A catch, with a taste for beautiful women.
Your Dad always jokes that he's the towns most eligible bachelor. You can't count on two hands the amount of women you know that have dated him - but nothing seems to stick. He isn't Tethered, after all.
Some people choose not to date, if they haven't met their soulmate. They wait and wait, and when the time comes, they're complete. Others take pleasure in dating before it happens. Might as well make the most of the freedom, Bucky said once. You can't help but agree.
Might as well make the most of the freedom.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Hey, buddy!" you hear from the hallway. You make your way out of the kitchen to be met with the sight of Bucky, sun-kissed and practically glowing. His hair has a few light streaks from the sun, and the faint freckles on his cheeks are more prominent now. His steel blue eyes meet yours, mischief rife in them.
"Hi, honey," he greets, draping an arm around your shoulders. He kisses you on the cheek, light stubble scratching your skin. You throw an arm around his back and look up at him.
"There's no way this tan is natural," you tease, nudging him slightly.
"It makes me even more gorgeous, doesn't it?" he jokes, winking at you. He squeezes your shoulder before letting go, grabbing a bottle of wine from his bag.
"I brought your favourite, Lori."
"So did I," you echo, laughing.
"Great minds, honey. Great minds!"
"You can never have too much wine," your Mom yells out from the kitchen doorway. "Bring it in here, Buck. I'll put it in the refrigerator."
"Yes ma'am," he obliges, making his way to her with a smile on his face.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Guess what happened today," you begin, in between bites of your strawberry salad.
The three of them look at you intently, urging you to continue.
"Lacie got Tethered."
"How exciting!" your Mom squeals.
"That's a long time coming," Bucky chimes in. You look at him and smirk.
"Tell me about it."
"Here we go," your Dad smiles. "Our two anti soulmate protestors."
"Don't make it sound so political," Bucky laughs. "She's the only one that gets it."
"I've said it a thousand times, and I'll say it again. Just. You. Wait," your Mom lectures. "The two of you don't get it."
"Magic, fireworks, eternal love, blah blah blah. Trust me, I get it."
"She gets it," Bucky echoes. "And so do I. The Universe decides our fate, and we get no choice whatsoever. I don't believe in it, is all. I have no faith in the system. I should get to choose."
"But you feel like you are choosing," your Dad defends. "It didn't feel like it was being determined for me. It's hard to explain."
"It's just so... backwards," you justify. "I can't believe we live in a Universe where we have all the choices in the world, but don't get to choose the person we spend the rest of our lives with."
"It's worked out pretty well for us," your Mom smiles.
And it has. The first thing anyone notices when they meet your parents is that they are undeniably in love. You've never met two people more perfect for each other - which should solidify your belief in the Universe, really. But it doesn't. You can't explain where your lack of faith in it came from. It just appeared one day, and you haven't been able to shake it since. You're grateful every day to have two Tethered, happy, smitten parents. You've seen how hard it is for people with Untethered Mothers and Fathers. The judgment, the uncertainty, the hushed whispers. It sounds unbearable.
"Yes it did," your Dad confirms, shaking you from your thoughts. He reaches for your Mom's hand and kisses the back of it tenderly, eyes never once leaving hers. You look to Bucky next to you, who smiles at you gently. Feelings about soulmates aside, the both of you love these two people sat across the table with all your heart.
"Trust me, sweetheart," your Mom begins. "I know you're against the idea now - God knows I was the same at your age. But when it happens, you'll forget about all of your rebellion. You'll just be happy."
You nod in agreement, praying for the conversation to be over. As if he can read your mind, Bucky pipes up.
"Let me show you some pictures from Italy. I did promise I would."
You shoot him a grateful look before picking up your empty wine glass and making your way to the kitchen for a refill.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The dining room is now lit solely by candlelight, wax dripping onto the white lace tablecloth like condensation on a cold glass. The sun fell asleep hours ago, the four of you enjoying each others company with no regard for time.
"Oh, shit. It's late," your Dad says suddenly.
"You got big late night plans?" you tease.
"We have Clara and Mike's wedding at the weekend, so we're flying out tomorrow. We should probably get some sleep, so we're not exhausted."
Your Mom rises from her chair and kisses you on the head, before grabbing the dessert bowls from the table. Your Dad helps, smiling every time his hand brushes hers accidentally.
"Thanks for coming, kiddo. Your place next week?"
"Of course. I think I'll try that salmon recipe you sent me."
"Can't wait," your Dad assures you, giving you a one sided hug. He squeezes you once before letting you go to grab your shoes.
You can hear your parents saying their goodbyes to Bucky as you tie your laces, smoothing out the skirt of your dress as you stand. They all join you in the hallway, Bucky leaning over to grab his jacket from behind you. Fuck, he smells good.
"Have a great time at the wedding, you guys. Send me pictures, please!" you say as you hug your Mom goodbye.
"We will! Drive home safe, the both of you!"
They shut the door softly, leaving you and Bucky stood on the porch. The evening air chills your bare legs, salt in the breeze sticking to your lips.
"Where's your car?" he asks, looking around.
"Oh, I walked. It was a nice day, and I'm trying to be a little greener. Save the planet, and all," you chuckle.
"You want a ride, then?" he offers, leaning against the side of his truck.
"Uh - maybe," you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot. You feel antsy, for some reason. There's a buzz flowing through your veins, making you a little restless.
"Maybe?" he smirks.
"I just, I'm not sure if I wanna go home yet. It might be that I've had three glasses of wine, but I'm kinda... jittery? Think I need to burn off some energy. Maybe I'll walk home."
"Like hell you will," he grumbles.
You quirk a brow in confusion.
"It's dark, and all those college kids are in town on their break. I don't trust 'em."
You fight to keep the grin off your face. You weirdly like it when Bucky gets protective. He's always so calm, so relaxed - it takes a lot to rile him up. He looks hot with a clenched jaw.
"Why don't we go somewhere?"
"Where?" you ask tentatively.
"I don't know," he thinks for a second. "How about the beach?"
You smile, gazing at him with a twinkle in your eyes.
"I fucking love the beach."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The ocean waves break the shore steadily, the repetitive pattern calming you both. You're sat on the sand, grains slipping through your hands where you're pouring it out through your fingers. The light of the moon reflects off the surface of the sea, illuminating the abandoned cove. It's just you, Bucky, and the night sky.
The alcohol in your system has evened you out, warm buzz keeping you sheltered from the chill. Bucky's stretched out next to you, strong arms folded underneath his head. His shirt rides up slightly, exposing a slither of sun kissed skin. You pretend not to notice his Adonis belt, or the little trail of hair that leads down into his waistband.
The silence is easy, comfortable. You don't get to hang out like this often, just the two of you. It's nice.
A notification on your phone breaks through the tranquility. You both flinch.
"Sorry," you mutter, checking the screen. "It's Lacie, telling me about her perfect date."
He chuckles lowly at your tone, sitting up to look at you.
"This is hard for you, isn't it?" he asks. "You hate the whole soulmate thing, but you like seeing her happy."
Bingo. It's like he's read your mind.
"I don't know why I hate it so much" you confess quietly. "It's a part of life. I can't avoid it. I just think - what if... what if I'm like, the exception, or something? What if I never meet my soulmate - or - what if I meet them when I'm like, seventy? That happens, you know! And then I'll be fucking cursed to spend my entire life feeling like this."
"And what is this?"
"Hopeless. That's what this is. I just feel pretty fucking hopeless."
You're not sure why you're baring your soul to Bucky tonight. You could blame the wine, but you know that's not what it is. Maybe it's because he seems to be the only one that understands.
"Me too," he whispers.
You whip your head around to stare at him in shock. He laughs at the look on your face, and continues.
"You're young - you have time. I'm forty in a couple of years. Every single one of my friends is married to their soulmate - except for me."
You bite at your lip nervously, but refuse to tear your eyes away from his steel blue ones. His face is lit by the glow from the moon, and it takes your breath away for a second. He looks almost ethereal.
"You always act so... unbothered. I didn't realise... I guess I just, I didn't -" you try to gather your thoughts before continuing. "This fucking sucks, huh?"
He laughs with his whole chest, and you're convinced the sound is so special, so rare, that you should bottle it. Sell it as medicine. It'd cure anything, you're sure of it.
"Yeah, it does," he agrees with a chuckle. "It's the waiting around that's the worst part. The unknown. It could be minutes, it could be decades. I just don't know."
"At least for now, we have each other," you joke.
"Every cloud has a silver lining, huh?" he teases, nudging you with his shoulder.
You allow your weight to press into his side a little, leaning in. He's warm, and he's familiar, and in this moment, he understands you better than anyone else in the world.
"We'll be okay, honey," he murmurs. "It'll all work out the way it's supposed to."
You close your eyes, and allow his words and the breaking waves to calm your nerves. Bucky wraps an arm around you, and all the tension melts from your muscles.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You're not sure if it's the honest conversation, or the brisk ocean breeze, but you've sobered up in record time. Your body registers this, and sends a shiver down your spine.
"You cold?" Bucky asks you. "You wanna go home?"
"Not yet," you whisper. "Not yet."
He shrugs off his worn brown leather jacket and slips it over your shoulders. It smells so strongly of him that it makes you dizzy. Bucky settles back down in his original place, returning his arm to where it was draped over you. His rough fingertips rub patterns into the material that now covers your arms, and you wish, for a fleeting moment, that it was your bare skin instead.
"You been working on anything new recently?" he enquires in a hushed tone, careful not to ruin the atmosphere.
"I made a damn good batch of macarons yesterday," you reply, beaming smile etched across your face. "Raspberry and lemon. I'll bring you some, next time I pass the Garage. You're gonna love them."
"You know, I think the only reason I ever get Mechanic of the Month is because you bring by all of your sweet treats."
You laugh melodiously, and the sound makes Bucky's heart stutter in his chest without warning.
"Happy to be of service," you tease. "I take requests, too, if you ever want something specific. Just let me know."
"You're the best, sugar."
You sink into Bucky's hold a little, daring to rest your head on his shoulder. When he doesn't stop you, you exhale, and relax even more.
"Are you working tomorrow?" he asks.
"Nope. You?"
"Nah. I'm going sailing, finally. It's been way too fuckin' long," he grumbles. "Your Dad's usually my right hand man, but he'll be in Ohio. You wanna come?"
The idea of laying on the deck of a boat in the blazing sunshine with a shirtless Bucky Barnes sounds like heaven. Who could say no to an offer like that?
"Yeah, of course. I'll bring a picnic, if you like. It's the least I can do."
"Sounds perfect," he replies, squeezing your shoulder.
Suddenly, he rises to his feet, extending a hand out to you. You grab it, and he pulls you up, the both of you shaking sand off yourselves.
"It's late, and dark, and a little cold. You ready to go?"
You nod your head, and make your way over to his truck, ignoring the heat that blooms over your chest when he opens the passenger door for you before his own.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Thank you, for tonight," you say as he pulls up in front of your apartment building.
"Thank you," he replies, killing the engine. "It's nice to have you back, you know. Wondered if you were gonna finish college and stay out there in California. Thought we might not see you again."
He almost sounds... relieved. The idea that he might have missed you if you didn't return effects you more than it should.
"I liked it there, but... I don't know. My family's here. I'm only twenty three. I've got time to move around the country. I missed this place too much when I was away."
"Never thought I'd hear you say that," he chuckles.
"I know, trust me. They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder."
"Yeah, they say a lot of fuckin' things," he jokes.
Bucky swings his door open, hopping down from the drivers seat. He makes his way over to your side, holding out a hand so you can jump out.
"Careful," he warns. "It's higher than it looks."
You grab his hand, and step onto the metal sill. Your foot slips slightly, sending you tumbling down and forward, out of the truck. Luckily, Bucky catches you, one hand in yours, other on your hip.
"Woah, easy. You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good," you breathe.
He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, searching for any signs of distress. You place your palms over his, silently reassuring him.
And then, it happens.
Warm, golden, molten electricity surges through your veins, lighting up each and every one of your nerve endings. Your surroundings explode into glorious technicolour, everything suddenly brighter and more vibrant. It feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest, only to be replaced by one that beats in a slightly different rhythm. There's flowers blooming in your ribcage, new life happening inside of you. You catch eyes with Bucky, expecting to see his stormy blue ones looking back at you. Instead, all you see is your future.
Vivid, flashing images of Bucky Barnes fill your mind, each one of them tinted with a warm, rosy hue. You feel like you're being reinvented. Your skin is alive, hyperaware of the way Bucky's palms are still gently cupping your cheeks. Your fingertips tingle with anticipation where they rest on his, itching to touch every inch of him. You feel as if the oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, and replaced with love.
Your knees are the first to buckle, the weight of the moment taking you down. You hit the ground, and so does Bucky, his palms not once leaving your face. You're both kneeling on the warm concrete, ocean waves providing a distant soundtrack. Blood is rushing in your ears, and you wonder for a second if you're about to pass out. You squeeze Bucky's hands so hard, it's a miracle you don't break his fingers. He squeezes back, eyes locked on one another.
After what feels like an eternity, you both break out of your reverie. You lean forward, resting your forehead against Bucky's, both of you panting.
You're trying to catch your breath unsuccessfully. You move one of your hands to rest on Bucky's chest, right on his heart. You swear the steady beat of it spells out your name.
He mirrors you, and moves his own hand to rest above your frantic heart, the other still glued to your cheek. You both breathe, in and out, trying to match each other. When you finally do, it's as if time stops. It's just you and Bucky. One heartbeat. One soul.
You break away from him to look into his eyes again. They look different, you think. He looks different.
He gazes back at you, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. The moonlight dances off your faces, illuminating the moment both your lives changed forever.
"It's you," he breathes in disbelief.
A laugh escapes your chest, surprising you both. He chuckles with you, and before you know it, the both of you are in hysterics, sitting on the sidewalk at three in the morning.
"Of course it's me," you giggle. "The two people that hate soulmates, Tethered together. You couldn't write it."
Bucky grins at you, clutching at his stomach.
You both take a breath, and realise your surroundings. Bucky gets up first, heaving you up by your arms. He towers over you, suddenly close. Not close enough, you decide. Never close enough.
You lunge forward and crash your lips to his. Bucky instinctively wraps one arm around your back, moving his other hand to hold you by the back of your neck. He tastes like salt and spearmint and every kiss for the rest of your life.
Bucky presses himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing you to come closer. He aches to climb into you, sew himself into your ribcage. He'd be content to live there, beating your heart, forever.
You whine, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You tilt your head back, and fist your hands into his shirt, plastering yourself to his front. He shoves his thigh in between your legs, the rough denim a welcome contrast to your soft skin. You buck your hips forward, and the friction is so delicious it makes you dizzy. You've never been kissed like this. It's almost feral. You're both surrendering to your fates, giving in to the animalistic urges coursing through you.
A seagull caws on a nearby street lamp, and the sound makes you both jump. You suddenly realise your scenario. Your Dad's best friend, who also happens to be your soulmate, has you pressed against his truck in the street, kissing you like he's running out of air and you're his only oxygen source. If it goes any further, you'll both get arrested for public indecency.
"Fuck, sugar," he murmurs against your mouth. "My pretty girl. My honey."
"My soulmate," you whisper.
The reality of it comes crashing down like a tsunami, drenching the both of you.
Bucky kisses you again, gentler this time. The tenderness makes you want to cry.
"What do we do now?" you mumble, fear coating your voice.
He senses your trepidation instantly. He feels it, actually, right in the front of his chest. It's like you suddenly share one body. There's no guessing, anymore. He knows exactly how you feel.
He takes a deep breath, trying to settle his building anxiety. He knows that if he stays calm, you'll stay calm. That's how Tethering works, right? He has to keep it together for the both of you, despite the panic that's rising in him, vibrating in his bones.
"How about... how about we both go to bed, get some sleep - and then we go sailing, later on today, just like we planned? And no matter what, we take everything one step at a time."
"One step at a time," you repeat, attempting to pacify you both.
"We'll figure it out," he reassures. "I know we will."
You find the will to step apart, which proves harder than you thought. It's like Bucky's an anchor - fastening you to peace, to happiness, to serenity. The more distance you put between your bodies, the more unsettled you feel. When you're not touching him, it's as if everything becomes unsteady, more difficult. You feel like you're on a rogue sailboat, battling the waves, threatened to be thrown overboard. Bucky is your lifevest, your lighthouse in the dark night. You're not sure how you're supposed to live your life any more than two feet away from him at all times.
You breathe, and smooth down your dress, running your fingers through your hair. You reach out and adjust Bucky's shirt where it's been wrinkled due to your tight grip.
"Goodnight, sweetheart," he murmurs, fingers tangling around your own.
"Goodnight, Buck," you echo.
He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, savouring the taste of your cherry lip balm. He wraps his arms around you, unable to resist. Bucky breathes you in deeply, smiling uncontrollably. Nudging your nose with his, he murmurs gently against your mouth.
"My honey girl."
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venusstorm · 10 months
Text
𝘽𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙃𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙮𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙨
The time in which you gifted Bucky Barnes an adorable little keychain for his motorcycle.
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ෆ Warnings: 18+ – MINORS DNI, fluff, insecurity, Bucky can’t stop lifting you up
ෆ Bucky Barnes x Reader
ෆ w/c: 1.2k
̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟
"Isn't this yours, honeybee?" Bucky questions, dangling the bright yellow bumblebee with a pastel pink heart in his hand. He inspects it carefully, turning it around before offering it back to you.
You shake your head, "It was, yea...but..."
Bucky stares at you expectantly and suddenly the entire idea sounded foolish. You couldn't help but envision him laughing at you, snorting at how ridiculous he'd look flying down the highway with your dumb keychain flapping in the wind. It'd stick out like a sore thumb against his jet-black bike, the rev of his engine alone probably sending the poor bee soaring into the clouds.
"I put it in there by accident," you laugh nervously, reaching out for the tiny bee. But his hands clenched tightly around the keychain before you could grab it.
Almost tauntingly he lets it hang in front of your face, staring at you with a half smile.
"On accident?" He hums. "So the keychain that's been on your backpack since the day I met you just somehow found its way into my birthday present?"
You shrug. "I took it off and must've misplaced it."
His eyes glimmer with question but instead of pushing further, he lets it go. He shrugs, "Okay."
Your face falls as he hands the keychain back to you. You squeeze the poor ball of fluff, trying your best not to belittle yourself for being so nervous.
It's for the best, you told yourself. I'm sure he doesn't want some weird form of "staking claim" on his bike. His buddies would make fun of him for it anyway. It's better if it stays with me. Yea. Better.
Hurriedly you try to direct your attention away from your thoughts, shoving the keychain into your pocket.
Your solemn expression brightens into excitement. "I have another surprise!"
You take Bucky's hand, leading him towards your living room which noticeably had a different ambiance than usual. He happily trails behind you, watching your joyous face with adoration.
Every time he's with you his brain goes fuzzy. You allow him to decompress, relax, and think about nothing besides the moment he's in. He craves getting off of work and coming straight to your apartment, still sweaty and dirty from working at the bar, and yet you run up and give him the biggest hug. "Hang on, let me take a shower, honeybee." But you'd ignore him, smashing your lips against his until he gives up rationalizing and allows you to strip him bare.
"I know it's kind of corny and if you'd rather go out and celebrate I completely understand. I just thought this would..."
He can't focus on your words. Not as he's looking at what you had done. Candles lit around the room, the whole place smelling of warm vanilla and cinnamon. Fairy lights twinkled around the ceiling, draping over the windows. The coffee table has been shoved to the side and in its place is a bundle of blankets and floor pillows. Balloons and streamers are scattered across the room, and finally, he zones in on the blue and white cake.
"Happy Birthday James!" it reads. He could tell that you made it because of the bright red heart dotting the i.
He whispers your name in pure disbelief.
"Yes?" You stare up at him with admiration. You truly love this man and want to do everything in your power to show it.
"C'mere, baby." Bucky scoops you up into a hug, hiking you up until your legs are wrapped around his waist. He holds you close against his chest, kissing you sweetly. "You did all this for me?"
You nod, eyes wide as he stares at your lips. A look of pure hunger ravishes you. Bucky presses his forehead against yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
He couldn't recall a time before you when his heart felt as if it would beat out of his chest. Nor a time when his eyes became so glazed over with pure adoration that he swore he'd cry right then and there. He was hesitant about this future, the new world that he found himself forced to live in. But the moment he saw your sweet smile for the first time, all that faded away.
"Thank you, Princess." You whimper as he whispers into your ear, his hands traveling up the Henley that you stole from his drawer. He didn't mind you stealing his clothes. The first time he caught you he handed you a pile of his shirts, begging you to take them and wear them as your own.
He kisses your shoulder softly. "Thank you for being here for me."
"For taking the time to know me and care for me."
His lips press against your neck, a soft groan rumbling within his throat. "I still remember the day we met...felt like the universe was finally giving me my happy ending."
You state his name breathlessly. "I'm supposed to be celebrating you, not the other way around."
He ignores your remark, his eyes narrowing as his brain begins to churn. "Do you trust me, sweetheart?"
You respond without hesitation. "With everything."
"And you'll always tell me the truth, right?"
You nod reassuringly.
He releases his grip on your legs, setting you back onto the ground. "So tell me what this is about." His hand shoots into your pocket, pulling out the black and yellow bee. He squeezes it in his hand before laying it out in his palm.
"I told you–"
He raises an eyebrow, "The truth."
You didn't want to come off as too clingy and you didn't want to hear Bucky reject your gift. Thank you baby but...it's a little childish. You could hear the words flowing from his lips perfectly. He'd hate it.
"I–"
Bucky pulls you closer. His eyes flooded with warmth. "Please."
"It was for your bike," you whisper. "And before you say anything. I know it's dumb...that's why I took it back."
"My bike?"
You nod wordlessly. "I thought it'd be cute if you had a little piece of me wherever you go. But the more I thought about it the more I realized how stupid it'd probably look. I mean...none of the other guys have–"
Bucky cuts you off, lifting you off the ground and back into his arms. "Oh, baby...is this what you were hiding?"
You nod sheepishly. "It's stupid."
He shakes his head. "It's perfect. You're perfect. M'gonna tie this onto it right now, honeybee. The guys are going to be so fucking jealous when they see what you got me."
Your lips broaden into a smile. "Really?"
Bucky hugs you tightly, his hand caressing your head against his shoulder. "Gotta let the whole world know I've got the most thoughtful, gorgeous person by my side. M'never taking it off, baby. It goes where I go now."
You squeal as he races into the garage with you in his arms, flicking the lights on and heading towards his bike. He sets you down gently, making a show of the keychain in his hand before attaching it to his key ring. Happily, he throws his leg over the bike, twisting the ignition. The bike roars to life and the sight of your bright yellow bee against the black exterior makes you burst out into laughter.
Bucky grins. "See? It's perfect, baby. Told you."
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srgntjamesbuckybarnes · 2 months
Text
Past, Present, ...
Summary: After sleeping with Bucky after months of comforting him during his nightmares, Y/N returns from a three-week mission to find out she's been replaced.
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Near death, Implying attempted suicide (it's not)
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: Not Beta'd. Dusting this off from the drafts. I wrote this while sleep deprived. Not sure how we got here but the original ending wasn't a happy one. Enjoy whatever this is instead.
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How much space is too much?
According to James Bucky Barnes, three weeks isn't enough.
Three weeks on an assignment was enough for Y/N to become homesick. She understood she would have to pause her life to save the world, but what no one informed her was that the rest of the world would continue to play.
“Y/L/N?” A familiar voice shouted.
Adjusting the strap of her duffle bag on her shoulder, Y/N turned her head to find her co-worker jogging towards her. Slanting her eyes, Y/N raised her palm to block out the sun.
“Wilson,” she addressed the man when he was near.
Bent over with his hands on his knees, Sam panted. His sweatshirt stretched across his back making the dark patch of sweat more prominent. Squinting up at Y/N, Sam breathed, “Did you just get back?”
Y/N bobbed her head, adjusting the strap on her shoulder once more for emphasis rather than comfort. She did not need to ask to know Sam just returned from his run. He usually ran with Steve and Bucky, but they always finished well before Sam. It wasn’t uncommon for him to return hours after the super-soldiers.
Pushing off his knees, Sam stood, tilting his head toward one of the many entrances in Avengers Tower. He knew better than to offer to carry her duffle bag. The weight of missions was often packed in the bags they returned with.
Y/N and Sam strolled side by side. Sam only paused to open the door for Y/N. Trekking into the tower, he could finally relax his eyes from the intense sun. The two stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting for the elevator to arrive.
“I thought you were already back,” Sam admitted, watching the light above the elevator doors.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. Her mission was supposed to be longer. If anything, he should have anticipated her return later. Facing the man beside her, she asked, “Why?”
Ding.
Scrambling into the elevator, Sam leaned against the wall across from Y/N. She reflected his behavior, leaning against the wall behind her.
Once the elevator started moving, Sam confessed, “Bucky skipped his run today. I thought I saw you with him before I left. Guess I was wrong.”
Y/N bit her bottom lip, reopening a recently closed wound. She released her lip long enough to confirm what Sam already knew. “You were wrong.” Ignoring the coppery taste flooding her tongue, she drew her bottom lip between her teeth again.
She hadn’t seen her teammates in three weeks. She hadn’t seen Bucky longer. She assumed they were doing great, but Bucky didn't share her thoughts. He denied it, yet he went out of his way to avoid her since their last mission together, since they slept together. How one could be sweet in one moment and cold in another, Y/N would never understand.
Y/N and Bucky started off rocky. He hated her from the moment they met. Bucky was struggling in the field, so Steve asked her to keep an eye on him. Bucky rejected her the second Steve introduced them. He saw through Steve’s plan and stomped his feet like a child. Rather than confirm Bucky’s insinuation, Steve vouched that she deserved to be on the team for her talents, not to babysit Bucky. He even suggested that Y/N and Bucky spar to prove it. Bucky loathed her then. She laid him out several times that day. It was the reason Steve sought her out in the first place. Bucky was a far more experienced fighter than Y/N. He should have won every fight. He lost them all.
Muffled voices were heard from the other side of the doors. Voices Y/N craved to hear since she departed for her mission. When the doors spread, Sam was the first to enter the room. “Hey guys,” he called out, extending his hands toward Y/N, “look who I found.”
Y/N tentatively stepped off the elevator, joining her friends in the living room. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen so many eyes on her. “I didn’t know there was a party,” she joked, waving.
Tony was the first to speak up, a glass of honey liquid in hand, “Glad, you're back. We were just getting to know Bucky’s girlfriend over here.” He lifted his glass.
Y/N’s eyes followed the direction of Tony’s glass. Her hand tautened around the strap of her duffle bag for support. Y/N hadn’t noticed the extra body in the room at first. The team always had someone over for business or pleasure; it didn’t matter. This time it did because staring back at her was Bucky’s guest, his girlfriend, undoubtedly here for pleasure.
The stunning woman beside Bucky introduced herself. “Hi, I’m Evangelina, but everyone calls me Lina.” Y/N could see the muscles in her uncovered arms tense. Even though she couldn’t see the hand attached to the arm from the other side of the bar, she knew Evangelina was holding Bucky’s flesh hand. “But Bucky calls me Angel,” she added, batting her eyelashes at Bucky.
The woman wasn't solely attractive; she also had a heavenly name. Y/N mentally gagged at the thought of hearing Bucky call his girlfriend Angel.
The coward refused to meet Y/N’s eyes. He took a lengthy drink from a glass matching Tony’s. Stark usually drank top-shelf liquor. Y/N might have been concerned under different circumstances, but she knew the liquor did not affect him, unlike herself.
“Y/N,” she weakly introduced herself, gnawing on her bottom lip again.
“We were just having drinks. Care to join us? There is plenty of alcohol. I can make you something,” Evangelina offered politely.
Y/N’s teeth clamped tight on her bottom lip. She spent three weeks wishing she could return to the tower, only to be treated like a guest, an outsider in her own home.
It was then that Bucky decided to face her, yet his eyes looked right through her. Y/N’s chest tightened. She didn’t know it was feasible to feel more alone in her home, surrounded by friends and a man she had been intimate with, than by herself in a foreign country. She wondered if he could see the hurt written on her face.
“I-I don’t-”
Bucky’s whiskey-strained voice interrupted, “No. No drinks.”
A gasp pulled Y/N's attention away from the couple. Cold, pale hands rested on her cheeks, rotating her head from side to side. “Y/N, you’re bleeding,” Natasha chastised.
Wrestling out of Natasha’s hold, Y/N utilized the back of her hand to wipe the blood from her lip. Staring at the crimson fluid coating her skin, Y/N jerked her head. “I can’t.” Blindly smashing the elevator button behind her, she whispered, “I have to…” her voice trailed off as she jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. Disregarding everyone’s silent questions, she bolted into the elevator, only letting her shoulders sag when the doors closed. The strap of her duffle bag slid from her shoulder landing with a thud. Gliding her back down the wall, Y/N cradled her knees and wept.
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Every night before bed, Y/N prayed the sun would never rise because when day broke, Bucky vanished. Her dreams filled with memories of their last mission together. Reality was the price of admission for eight hours in heaven.
Y/N clenched her jaw at every public display of affection between the new couple. In the time she had known him, Bucky had never been touchy-feely in public. Now, he couldn’t appear to stop. Bucky only ever reached for Y/N after a nightmare or horrific mission. He reached for her at his lowest and she responded with open arms. He might have another woman occupying his bed, but he continued to fuck with her head.
The voice in her head wasn’t her own anymore. Every thought she had echoed back in his familiar deep timber. She couldn’t shake him. A twisted part of her brain wondered if he couldn’t shake her either.
Sam’s comment when she returned from her assignment should have been her first clue. He had mistaken Evangelina for her. Sam had been the first to mention the resemblance between the two, but it wasn’t the last time Y/N received those kinds of comments.
In the time that Y/N had gotten to know Evangelina, which wasn’t much, she concluded that she didn’t hate her. The two had more in common than she wanted to admit. Evangelina made it a point to befriend all of the Avengers; Y/N included. Y/N hated that she enjoyed her company. It was a tough pill to swallow at first, but she couldn’t hate the woman for her taste in men. Who didn’t find Bucky Barnes attractive?
Bucky had been more challenging to read. He didn’t prevent the women from becoming friends, but he didn’t encourage it either. He continued to keep his distance from Y/N, only interacting with her in group settings.
The Avengers were unaware of Bucky and Y/N’s history. Their relationship was exclusively behind closed doors. Y/N wondered if Evangelina would be her confidante if she knew Y/N had warmed his bed first. Maybe Bucky told her and that was why she pushed to be Y/N’s friend. Maybe that was the reason she asked to raid Y/N’s closet for her date with Bucky. Even though Y/N desperately wanted to slam the door in her face, Evangelina was innocent in the situation. So, she agreed.
“You have so many pretty dresses,” Evangelina said in awe. Her hand ran across each piece of fabric dangling in the wardrobe.
Y/N’s fingers plucked at a loose thread on her comforter. Although they were now friends, helping Bucky’s girlfriend pick out an outfit for their date was still awkward. At least it was on Y/N’s end. Evangelina was none the wiser.
“Perks of being an Avenger.”
“What’s it like being an Avenger? Bucky never talks about his work life. He’s always tense when he returns from a mission.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow even though the other woman couldn’t see her. Bucky was slow to open up, especially about his past as the Winter Soldier. Y/N wasn’t surprised he dodged the topic. Ever since Natasha leaked classified files, Bucky’s past became public knowledge. Bucky and Evangelina’s relationship progressed beyond what Y/N previously had with Bucky, at least on the surface. She didn’t know much about their life behind closed doors. Bucky never took Y/N on a date or made her his girlfriend, but he let her hold him in her arms at night and let her in after a difficult mission. Yet his girlfriend practically confessed she knew nothing about his troubles. That was what shocked Y/N.
“It’s…” she paused, attempting to find the right words to convey the difficulties of the job without disturbing her. “It’s like war. You save and lose people. It’s rewarding and sucks at the same time.”
Evangelina pivoted with a black cocktail dress in hand. “That sounds awful.”
Y/N shrugged. “People do it every day. Steve, Sam, and Bucky were all military men before this.” She waved her hands around the room.
Evangelina caught the shift in Y/N’s tone. It wasn’t something she wanted to talk about, a reaction Evangelina grew used to from her exchanges with Bucky. Altering the subject, Evangelina pressed the cocktail dress flush to her body. “What about this one?”
Y/N sucked in a deep breath. She wore the dress on her last mission with Bucky. Though he didn’t say it in public, his reaction when they returned to the safe house that night was enough to know Bucky admired the dress. With Evangelina’s similar figure, Y/N knew Bucky would equally appreciate it on her, especially since he wouldn’t get to rip it off of Y/N again.
She would have told Evangelina about the dress, but it was none of her business. The past was in the past. One Evangelina wasn’t a part of. If Bucky hadn’t told her about their past neither would she. Was it bad to send Evangelina on a date in the dress Bucky had fucked her in? Probably. Did she hope he would think about her the entire date? Absolutely.
Clearing her throat, Y/N plastered a phony smile on her face. “Good choice.” After the date, the dress would be tarnished, like rerecording over an old tape.
Y/N never considered herself a masochist, but she couldn’t escape the role of a domestic sinner. She couldn’t sabotage Evangelina’s relationship no matter how Bucky made her feel; however, she could ruin her own relationship. There was a time in her life when she thought Bucky was the one. Part of her still believed it. It was the part she had to sacrifice.
She told herself Bucky’s soft caresses and lingering stares meant nothing, that every promise spoken was a lie to satisfy the moment. Everything Y/N ever loved had been hard to part with, so she convinced herself Bucky never truly loved her. He couldn’t with how readily he replaced her. Could he? It didn’t matter because he chose Evangelina.
“Hey, Y/N,” Steve welcomed jovially.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as Steve’s voice carried down the hall. Who was he talking to? Rounding the corner just in time, she hadn’t missed the way Steve’s eyes enlarged at the sight of her.
“I didn’t realize,” Steve began, his eyes flashing between both women. “I thought you were Y/N.”
Evangelina chuckled, gliding her hands across her abdomen to smooth down the front of the dress. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Y/N was considerate enough to lend me her dress.” She turned to Y/N, who was still standing in the archway of the lobby. “Thanks again.”
Before Y/N could reply, a hand slinked around her waist, drawing her into a solid body. Startled, Y/N tensed.
“Hey, Ange-” Bucky’s tongue twisted as his eyes landed on Y/N. He was relieved he peeked at her face before he complimented her appearance. He dragged his arm back to his side in a flash. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”
Y/N chewed her lip, taking a step back. Bucky was dressed from head to toe in black, matching Evangelina. Y/N wondered if they planned to dress for her funeral before or after they killed off any romantic feelings she had for Bucky.
“I did the same thing,” Steve laughed. Bucky glowered at him, forcing his hands into his pockets. Steve held his hands up, “I didn’t touch anyone though, that was all you.”
Bucky grumbled, crossing the lobby to plant a kiss on Evangelina’s forehead. His right hand rested on the small of her back. “You look gorgeous,” he whispered against her hairline.
Evangelina grinned, “You don’t look bad yourself.”
Y/N couldn’t argue with that.
The faint smile on Bucky’s lips disappeared as the hand on Evangelina’s back ran up her spine. The tips of his fingers halted over a loose thread beside the zipper. Anyone would have glossed over it, but not Bucky. Not when he was the one to patch the dress up and certainly not when he was the one to tear it in the first place. When his gaze collided with Y/N’s, she knew he recognized the dress. His eyes blatantly proceeded to check her out.
Y/N flushed as he studied her; however, the moment his eyes drifted to his best friend, Y/N’s blood ran cold. “Are you two,” he pointed between Y/N and Steve. His voice was unable to fully ask the question he wanted to.
Steve slung his arm over Y/N’s shoulder. It was meant to be a joke, but Y/N saw the blaze in Bucky’s eyes. She didn’t know if it was directed at Steve or herself.
“I wish,” Steve beamed down at her. “I have a conference with Fury in an hour. I was hoping to get there early.”
Y/N sent Steve a soft smile. Steve and Bucky were best friends. If anyone knew what transpired between the two on their last mission, it would be Steve. His reaction proved otherwise. She was confident Steve didn’t know about her past with Bucky or he wouldn’t have unknowingly taunted Bucky.
Evangelina ran her hand along Bucky’s back affectionately. “What about you, Y/N? That dress looks amazing on you. I’m almost jealous I didn’t borrow that one.”
Untangling herself from Steve’s hold, Y/N focused on responding to her new friend rather than Bucky. Puffing out her chest, Y/N said, “Thanks, Lina. I have a date.”
Evangelina grinned, “You should join us.” She directed her attention to Bucky, slapping the center of his chest. “They should join us.”
Y/N’s eyes bulged at the prospect of a double date with Bucky. Absolutely not.
“Could be fun,” Bucky added, but his voice lacked emotion.
She officially lost her mind. There was no way Bucky was actually on board with this idea. The man spent most of his time avoiding her. The second she attempts to move on, he tries to interfere. No. No. No.
Y/N shook her head, lying through her teeth, “It’s still new. I’m not ready to introduce him to anyone I know yet.”
Bucky’s eyes lingered on Y/N’s figure for a moment. “That’s not exactly a new relationship kind of dress.” His eyes narrowed in a challenge.
Y/N pursed her lips. “It is for the kind of relationship he and I have.”
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Bucky and Y/N’s first assignment together was a disaster. Bucky wasn't prepared to return to the field, but he insisted he was fine. The mission was successful, but only after Bucky hesitated and Y/N was stabbed. The knife was meant for Bucky, and he took her sacrifice for his mistake poorly. They argued even while Y/N was getting stitched up. At the time, they couldn’t stand one another, but looking back on it, it was the tipping point from enemies to friends.
Tony pressured the two to get along for everyone's sake. He suggested going out for a drink and hashing it out. It was the typical outing for a man of Tony’s status with enemies. Bucky had been the first to yield, offering to buy Y/N a drink. As long as it meant they could move forward, he didn’t care. Y/N declined. Bucky scowled in frustration.
“I probably shouldn't tell you this, but ever since the whole enhanced superpower thing, alcohol is like poison to me.”
Bucky’s face softened. Alcohol had been an issue for him and Steve as well. He detested that he couldn’t get drunk, especially with the unwanted memories that plagued his head frequently. It paled in comparison to her side effects. At least he could still consume the liquid and pretend.
“How about dinner then?” Bucky proposed.
Y/N nodded. “Dinner would be great.”
After that, the pair functioned well together. At least until Y/N witnessed Bucky’s nightmares or when he pulled away from everyone after a challenging mission. That was when Y/N began comforting Bucky. While it wasn’t a problem before, it was now.
“Stop staring at me,” Bucky grumbled.
Y/N couldn’t tear her eyes away from the super-soldier. It was their first mission together since he began dating Evangelina. The two of them were trapped in a safe house on the other side of the world. It wasn’t the first time they had stayed in this particular safe house. It was the exact safe house they inhabited on their last mission.
“You’re hurt,” Y/N observed. Bucky naturally had a sway in his gate. Today, it was heavier, as if he had been lugging extra weight around for hours.
“I’m fine,” Bucky rasped, keeping his back to Y/N. He kept his focus on igniting the fire in the fireplace before them.
Y/N frowned. “I don't mean physically.” Bucky remained silent. “Maybe you should call Evangelina,” she proposed. It was the practical thing to suggest, but it seemed to have the opposite effect on Bucky than she intended.
Bucky whirled around; the fire blazed behind him. “I said I’m fine,” he barked. His dark eyes pinned her to her spot on the worn couch.
Y/N chewed her bottom lip. If he was going to get angry with her for caring, then she’d get furious right back. “If you’re so fine, then why have you been avoiding me?”
Bucky grumbled something under his breath, running his hand through his hair. “I already told you, I haven’t-”
“Bullshit.” Y/N rose from her seat. “You fucked me after that HYDRA mission and discarded me like garbage,” she fumed. “I gave you space. I’m gone not even an entire month and suddenly you have a girlfriend. Fuck you, James.”
Bucky stormed the room until he was standing in front of her. His nostrils flared as he ran his tongue along his teeth before baring his teeth. Y/N tipped her head back, daring him to put his hands on her. Bucky studied her face momentarily, their faces hairsbreadths from one another as he hissed, “Fuck. You. Y/N.” From this distance, she could see the muscles in his face twist. She knew he was pissed. Bucky pulled away. “You think you know everything. You have no idea what it's like to have someone fuck with your head.”
Y/N shoved his chest hard. Bucky didn’t even flinch. “You! You’ve been driving me insane with your games!” Her hands moved to shove him again, but he caught both of her wrists.
“Don’t,” he growled.
Y/N ripped herself free from his hold. His grip wasn't tight enough to hurt, still she rubbed her wrist anyway, trying to rid her body of his touch.
“Go back to your boyfriend, Y/N,” he commanded.
Y/N squinted at the man in front of her. This version of him was a stranger. “I heard you,” she voiced softly. “That night,” she pointed to the bedroom down the hall, “when you thought I was asleep, you said you love me.”
If she wasn’t an Avenger, she wouldn’t have detected the way his eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Bucky no longer had to wear a mask from HYDRA, but it seemed everyone except Bucky got the memo. His voice matched the stone-cold expression he wore. “I lied.”
It was the lack of sympathy in his voice that slammed the casket closed. With two little words, Bucky Barnes had buried her in the same place he made love to her.
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Bucky returned to the tower after dropping Evangelina off when he stumbled across Natasha with a glass of wine in hand. She was snuggled under a blanket on the couch, watching a true crime show. Since he was unsure where everyone else had gone, he settled on the spot beside Natasha.
“Long night?” Natasha questioned, side-eying the brunette.
Bucky moaned, running his hands down his face. “Long week.”
Natasha swirled her glass of wine. “There is still a bit of wine left. It won't get you drunk but it might help you relax.”
Bucky pursed his lips. “I don’t think that will help.”
Natasha shrugged. “There’s some liquor Y/N’s boyfriend left on the counter over there.” She pointed to the nearly empty bottle across the room. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sharing.”
Bucky raised an eyebrow, “He’s here?”
The red head nodded. “They just got back from dinner. She said they were going upstairs to watch a movie, but after the amount of alcohol they had, I’m sure they are doing more than that.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
Bucky stiffened. “They were both drinking?”
“Yeah. The boyfriend came down a couple times to make mixed drinks. He offered me one the last time he was down here, but,” she raised her wine glass.
Before Natasha could continue, Bucky was out of the room, taking the stairs three at a time. He didn’t expect Natasha to understand. People didn’t go around broadcasting their weaknesses. Y/N told him hers, despite them not being friends. It wasn’t his position to share the information. He regretted it now.
Bucky pounded his fist on the wooden door of Y/N's bedroom with a force that made the hinges creak. “Y/N, you in there? Open up,” he pleaded, his voice laced with concern. When he tried the handle and found it locked, his heart sank. “Y/N,” his voice grew more desperate. He could hear shuffling on the other side of the door and leaned in, straining to hear anything that might give him an indication of what was transpiring inside. Despite his repeated requests, the door remained sealed shut, and Bucky's impatience and frustration mounted with each passing second. His voice grew louder, his fists clenched tightly, as he roared for Y/N to open the goddamn door. But there was no response. Finally, Bucky stepped back, his eyes flashing with rage, preparing to kick the door down.
The door opened the second Bucky lifted his boot. A man Bucky had never seen before pushed past him, flying down the hallway. “I didn’t do anything,” he cried as he stepped onto the elevator.
Whiplash hit Bucky hard. His head twisted between the man on the elevator and Y/N’s open bedroom door. The second he caught sight of the man's face, he filed it away preparing to deal with him later. Bucky ran into Y/N’s room. His heartbeat drummed loudly, drowning out the sound of the TV playing in the background. He called her name, but there was no response. He scanned the entire room, finding it empty. His boot kicked a glass, the brown liquid staining the carpet. With a lump in his throat, Bucky knocked on the bathroom door and waited for half a heartbeat before he jerked the door wide open.
There she was, sprawled out on the bathroom floor. Bucky crouched down beside her. His flesh hand shook her shoulder as he called her name. No response. He rolled her onto her back, his fingers searching for the pulse on her neck. Bucky almost missed the faint thrum of her pulse beneath his fingers. His own body was shaking. He called her name once again but was met with silence.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y. send the medical unit to Y/N’s room,” his voice quivered as he addressed Tony’s artificial intelligence.
He stepped over her to turn the shower on. Leaving the sliding glass door open, he enveloped her torso in his arms, dragging her bodying into the shower. Crumbling to the floor behind her, he cradled her body under the spray of the cold water.
“Come on, Y/N. Wake up,” he pleaded. He tapped her face repeatedly. “Come on. Not like this,” his voice began shattering. Her head lulled into his chest. Bucky’s fist clenched, mindful not to crush her, as a loud sob tore through his chest. Bucky held her tighter than the clothes adhering to their skin beneath the water. He swayed her slowly as tears gushed down his face. “Come on Y/N. Come back to me,” he croaked. “Tell me to go fuck myself. Anything,” he begged, praying for a reaction. It was futile. Bucky smashed his lips onto the top of her head. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
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Beep. Beep. Beep.
Y/N’s eyes fluttered open with a groan. Her body was sore on the brink of death. One look around the room confirmed she nearly died. She visited the medical wing frequently between missions. The injuries she had endured on the missions were nothing in comparison to what she was experiencing now.
A pressure landing on the back of her hand had her head snapping to her side. Bucky sat with his forehead pressed to the back of her hand, a prayer escaping his lips. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows searching for her last memory of Bucky.
The brunette lifted his head, running his fingers through her hair. “You scared me,” his voice was shaky, his eyes never left her face.
“Where’s-”
Bucky snarled, “Your boyfriend? Don’t worry about him, he’s an asshole.”
Y/N flinched. “He didn’t know.”
“That’s not why he’s an asshole. He ran and left you on the bathroom floor to die.” Bucky watched as Y/N processed the new information. The lack of surprise concerned him. He didn’t want to ask, but he needed to know. “Did you know there was alcohol in your drink?”
Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms. “Of course, I didn’t, Bucky. You’re an asshole for leaving me too. I’m pissed at you. I’m not suicidal. You did your good deed. I’m alive. Now you can go back to your Angel.” She spat the last words, parodying his words from the safe house.
Bucky sat back in his seat, rubbing his chin. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He just wanted to push her away. He pushed too far. He almost lost her. He couldn’t avoid her any longer, she deserved an explanation.
“It wasn’t a lie,” he mumbled. Part of him didn’t want her to hear it, still wanting to starve off the conversation.
“What?”
He took a deep breath, leaning forward. His elbows rested on his knees with his hands clasped in front of him. His face turned serious. “I love you.” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat while her face turned sour. “But I can't be with you.”
A tear rolled down her cheek. “Why are you doing this? Why now?”
Bucky winced at the hurt in her voice. It hurt him too. That’s why he avoided the conversation for so long. “I’m too vulnerable around you. I fall back into my head way too easily. I don’t want to be reminded of my past. Then I met Ang- Evangelina and suddenly, I’m not thinking about all of the people I’ve killed, or the way HYDRA tortured me. With her, I’m living in the present.”
Y/N sat up harshly, the tears had stopped flowing a few sentences ago. “Because you won’t open up to her! You’re running from your problems and the second she’s gone, you’re gonna be stuck in your head again. Alone this time. Sorry, I was only a distraction long enough for you to fuck me. You don’t love her. You love the idea of normalcy with me!” She insisted, jabbing her finger into her chest.
Bucky closed his eyes, his head in his hands.
“For fucks sake, Bucky. She looks like me. This isn’t reality. This isn’t you. You're playing a role in some cheesy romcom. You’re letting her emulate me to fill a spot. She’s my understudy and you know it.”
Bucky ran his hands through his hair before looking up at her. Teary-eyed, he confessed, “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who I am anymore. I just want to be normal again.” His head rested on his bent arms, leaning against the bed. His back jolted with each sob.
Y/N rubbed between his shoulder blades. “We’re not normal Bucky. None of the Avengers are, but we’re real.” She ran her hand through his hair comfortingly. “You and me, we’re real.”
He wiped his tears, shaking his head, “She’s out looking for a dog for us to adopt.”
Y/N scrunched her nose. They were taking the next step. Before she knows it, they'll be moving in together, getting married, and have a kid on the way.
“I don’t even want a dog. I couldn’t take care of it with my lifestyle. It just seemed like the normal thing to do. Most families have dogs.”
Y/N hated the idea of Bucky considering a family with Evangelina. She knew him better though. “I always took you for a cat person.”
Bucky smiled at her. “Yeah? What about you? Are you a cat person?”
She nodded. “Less work to train. More realistic in our lifestyle.”
Bucky hummed. The idea of them sharing anything both scared and delighted Bucky. “What kind of cat would we get?”
The corner of Y/N’s lips turned upward. Playing along, she didn’t need to think about her answer, she had already thought about it before. “It doesn’t matter, but he’d have to be white so I could see him against all of your black clothes. Although, cat hairs might be a pain before missions.”
Bucky nodded, his elbow on the bed, propped his head up in his hand. His other hand held Y/N’s as his thumb rubbed circles on the back of her hand as she talked. With a raised eyebrow, Bucky asked, “He?”
Y/N nodded, offended he would suggest otherwise. “You know, so I can come home to my boys. Plus, you need more friends. You two can have a guy's night while I’m away.”
“What if I want to come home to my girls?” Bucky argued.
Y/N rolled her eyes. “We’ll let fate decide. Whichever we find first.”
He nodded, agreeing to the compromise. “Alpine.”
“Huh?”
Bucky sighed dreamily, “The name.” It was too easy talking with Y/N about adopting a cat as if they were discussing children. It hadn’t crossed Y/N’s mind yet, but Bucky was aware that he wasn’t thinking of the past. He was thinking of the future. A future with Y/N.
Y/N snorted. It wasn’t the name she would have picked but Bucky liked it. She got to pick the color; it was only fair Bucky got to pick the name. “Alpine it is.”
Three weeks later, Bucky and Y/N welcomed Alpine to their shared room at Avengers Tower. The team melted when they met the feline. Even Evangelina. Despite the breakup, Y/N and Evangelina remained friends. The women were filled with too much grace and poise, not to. A trait Bucky had admired in both of them. It should have unsettled Bucky for them to remain friends, but Bucky knew where he belonged now. He might not know who he was or who he is now, but he was certain his future was Y/N.
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lovelybarnes · 2 years
Text
sushi and fun mugs 2-b. barnes
pairings: bucky barnes x reader, ocs warnings: injury, angry reader, comfort about: sunshine and grumpy shittier part two? is it really sunshine/grumpy or a weird panic/comfort for no reason? hm let’s think this through
you sigh something long and tired through the dramatic filter of your mouth, letting your chin slump into the nestle of your hand. genevieve glances at you, lips puckering as she sees the slope of your back, index clicking your mouse lazily.
“what is wrong with you?” she accuses.
you straighten to glare at her. “nothing.”
she smacks her lips and shoves her keyboard away from her, eyes squinted suspiciously as she spins slowly to look at you. you look back uneasily as she does, shifting in your seat. unforgiving, your eyes flicker to the clock.
“do you have something to do?” she asks, noticing immediately, the tilt of her chin nearly predatorial. “you didn’t tell me you had something today.”
“the team comes back today,” you explain. it comes out more meek than you intend. “it’s a big day.”
genevieve’s sigh morphs her face, leaning back. “is this about your crush on broody mcbrooderson?”
you level a glare at her. “bucky isn’t broody.”
“then how’d you know i was talking about him? there are more people on that mission, y’know.”
you groan, running your fingers down your face. “because you’re always so mean about him!”
“i am not mean.”
“you’re not kind.”
“he’s not kind!”
at that, you raise a finger. “that is not true. bucky is very kind.”
“him accidentally holding a door open for you is not being kind, it’s standing in front of a door as you pass by because he dropped something,” genevieve argues.
you open your mouth to argue but predict it fruitless, settling with a glare her way and a mumble of what really happened. she doesn’t catch all of it but doesn’t believe you anyway.
huffing, you turn to the time again, frowning as you see numbers only continuing to pass and no agents coming back. “they’re late,” you let genevieve know, unable to help the worry that tinges your voice. it’s one thing to be an hour late with a message explaining plane malfunctions, but a whole other one to be nearly two with no word.
genevieve softens. “it’s probably nothing. you know the avengers don’t really think letting us know anything that happens is important. they probably already arrived and just didn’t file the paperwork yet.”
you don’t argue with the fact that bucky would never do that, always stopping by to drop some souvenir he managed to pick up wherever he was and a kiss on your skin. the bear at your desk reminds you of it, its stuffed arm between the handle of a shanghai mug, a stick he picked up when he was supposed to keep everything disclosed lying inside.
your computer dings with a message in sync with various others, and with a fervor you rarely hold, you jump to attention, fingers quick to guide the pointer to the notification. you scan over the official email, but you don’t process much when you catch letters making out bucky barnes and critical condition.
your breath hitches in your throat, an ice fear shooting straight down your spine. unfocused eyes try hard to read the rest of the email, noting that the time typed into the message was equal to the estimated mission end time but the received one was hours later.
genevieve winces from beside you, shooting you a concerned look. “shit,” she curses softly. “he may be a little intimidating but still. i hope he’s okay.”
“they should be here by now,” you whisper. it’s breathy in your frantic, ignoring genevieve’s words. shaky fingers scroll up to reread, make sure this is real. it is. “this… they should be here. why aren’t they…”
“he’s probably in the medbay,” genevieve points out, her face already going sour with a rant as she swivels in her chair to continue typing. she’s huffing, her head bobbing mockingly as she speaks. “you know they don’t bother to tell us when they arrive. ‘cuz we’re smart enough and our clearance level is high enough to work in fuckin’ shield and handle their unfinished mission reports and desk work and fight aliens and shit but not to be notified when they’re--” she cuts herself off when she turns again and you’re gone, chair astray.
she purses her lips together and breathes deeply from her nose. “f’course.”
she shakes her head, watching the door to the office close in your wake, letting her head fall back.
your steps are quick and sharp as you make your way down the stairs, open features hardened and set as you make your way down to the medbay. you’re seething, the trip only making the pit in your stomach deeper and colder. your fingertips shake by the time you arrive at your goal, flanked by large agents.
when you recognize one near the entrance, you breathe out in relief, stepping toward him. “gary?”
his eyes meet yours with a tight smile, the most he gives people on the job. you feel a little proud. “hey. agent.”
“i thought you were off duty right now?”
“there was an emergency. they called me in,” he explains, looking around him. “apparently, the threat wasn’t completely eradicated and someone was brought in on the brink of death.”
“emergency,” you repeat, his words making your heart stop. “gary, is it bucky?”
gary pauses, hesitant to answer, but you wrap your hand around his arm and squeeze desperately. “that’s what i’m hearing,” he gives in.
frenetic, your nails go to your forehead before you aim for the door. gary stops you with a hand to your shoulder. “you can’t go in,” he says.
slowly, you turn to him. “gary, you need to let me in.”
gary blinks at you. “only approved people are allowed inside.” with an apologetic shrug and a mutter of your name, he purses his lips as if expecting you would give up.
panic turns hot beneath your skin. “gary, i like you. but if you don’t let me in right-fucking-now, i will--”
he sighs your last name. “i’m sorry, but you don’t have the clearance.”
dangerously, you inhale. “i am bucky’s emergency contact, you have to let me in.”
gary looks down at you, his lips in a thin line. “i’m sure his emergency contact has already been called.”
“no, they weren’t because i’m his emergency contact and i haven’t been called!” you exclaim, words getting jumbled and shrieky as they near the end of your sentence.
he extends his hands in an attempt to calm you down, opening his mouth to speak.
your scowl cuts him off. utterly done and thoroughly terrified, you examine your surroundings quickly, realizing the other guards have shot you mere glances because they recognize you. gary himself doesn’t look too on edge even with you raising your voice. you’re glad none of them have gone on a mission with you.
you swipe at your nose and straighten, patience wearing thin. “gary. i need you to let me in or i will hurt you.”
he sighs, shaking his head, obviously not believing you. “i can’t do that--”
“i’m sorry about this,” you say, half-honest. he’s halfway through a question before you jab your knee into his groin hard. he groans immediately and drops down to his knees. quickly, you slam the side of your palm against his neck, precise but quick, and he slumps. 
you cringe a little, feeling bad but not enough, and lower him down to the floor gently, patting his head gently in apology.
commotion starts quickly, but you shove your body weight into the door hard enough to throw it open, striding fast through the rooms until you find someone familiar.
bucky stands inside a room with clear glass, expression surprised, clearly having just jumped to his feet at the noise. he says your name in confusion, and you’re so relieved to hear it isn’t coated in something bloody and dangerous you run into his arms, hands clawing at his back to make sure he’s solid and real.
“bucky,” you whimper. he’s taken aback for a second before he’s responsive, wrapping his arms around you and tucking you closer.
“hey sunny,” he mumbles, a hand smoothing up and down your back. “what’s wrong?”
you crumple at his touch, fire-hot anger melting to ebbing relief-panic. “you were--it said you were in critical condition and they wouldn’t let me in. i thought--” your words give away to a hiccup, the repose of his warmth heavier than you thought.
“i’m fine,” he assures. “steve freaked when there was an explosion they couldn’t find me. when they found a body they assumed, but it wasn’t me.”
you grunt in frustration, pulling him back when he begins to step away to take a look at you. “genevieve is right, they don’t tell us shit.” it’s what bubbles out, but you want to fall to your knees and thank the world bucky was still on it.
“how’d you get in here, pretty? it was only supposed to be us.”
“i thought it was you who was hurt, i had to see you,” you offer.
“that’s not an explanation.”
you sniffle, rubbing your cheek against bucky’s shirt. “i broke in. i’m gonna have to answer to some people but i’m just glad you’re okay.”
bucky chuckles, and you finally let him pull back, a sympathetic pull on his lips as he rubs his thumb underneath your eyes, brushing away your tears. “don’t worry about it sunshine, i’ll handle it.”
your responding hum comes out wet in your relief that you’re actually looking into his eyes, pushing yourself back into his arms. he’s sympathetic in his letting you, hand gentle as it smooths between the planes of your shoulders. it slows for a second, his mouth nearing closer to the edge of your ear as steps thunder behind you, halting suddenly.
“guess we’re made,” he whispers, sounding entirely fine with it.
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buckyalpine · 7 months
Note
Imagine jealous!sharon want to get you out of the way so she can be with Bucky…
She hurts you (even it’s like a bruise) and Bucky begins to be so protective of you 🥺🥵
ABSOLUTELY.
I'm imaging this with a soft sweet reader and fuckboi Bucky. Hear me out, okay.
He's not looking for a relationship at all, finally feeling a sense of freedom after getting a bit of himself back. He's so flirty with everyone, so charming, he knows he can get whoever he wants.
He fucks.
A lot.
Sharon eats it up, loving the smirks he gives her, his playful baby blue eyes always sparkling. She loves the naughty way he bites his lip and don't even get her started on how gorgeous he is when he works out shirtless. His Brooklyn accent comes out when he calls her darlin' and it makes her weak in the knees.
There's just one issue.
The looks he gives Sharon aren't special. She's not the only one he calls darlin', even the old lady at the coffee shop shares the same pet name. Bucky can't help the little smirks he tosses around to others, flirty compliments naturally falling from his lips. He's a bit of a heart breaker but it's who he is.
That's just Bucky.
That's Bucky with everyone else.
Then there's Bucky with you.
The quite lab assistant who worked at the compound.
He didn't have it in him to playfully flirt with you when you asked about his day. He actually liked talking to you, finding any excuse under the sun to keep the conversation going, poking at the little nick knacks you have on your desk so he doesn't have to leave so quickly.
Sharon hates the way he looks at you. Whenever he's around you, he looks at you with puppy eyes as if he's wondering how someone so sweet could possibly exist. She catches onto the way he's not the same with you as he is with others. He's called everyone in passing darlin' with a drawl of his voice but you're his doll. He's never used that with anyone else. That's reserved just for you.
She can't stand it.
At first she tries to pick you apart in subtle ways' maybe you'd finally realize you had no business talking to someone like Bucky.
"You're so pretty even though you wear glasses"
"Don't worry, that dress would still look good on your body type, its meant to suit everyone"
"I wish I was as brave as you to wear that! I'd love to have that much confidence but I could never"
She smiled sweetly while you pulled your lab coat closer together, clutching it tightly in your hand. Your heart sank to your stomach. You'd worn one of your favorite dresses, one many others had always said you looked perfect in but some how Sharon made you doubt that, despite her sugary smile.
Then she took it a step further to make sure you were more isolated, insisting you'd be uninterested in plans when the team wanted to go out. Purposely giving you extra work when they had drinks together. Anything to keep you sad and holed away in your lab while she kept Bucky all to herself.
She'd do anything to get rid of you.
She was almost certain everything was going accordingly to plan, inching closer and closer to Bucky during a movie night until she was pressed against him, sharing his blanket. Not that Bucky noticed since he was more distracted over the fact that Sam was also squished against him on the other side of the small couch. Sam was also buried under the now too hot blanket, his deep snores irrupting the movie having fell asleep on Bucky's shoulder.
"Damn bird brain" Bucky huffed, ignoring the fact that he pushed Sharon off while reluctantly adjusting himself so Sam's head wouldn't slip, shaking his head when Sam grumbled, trying to snuggle into Bucky more.
"Bet you wish that was y/n, huh" Tony wiggled his eyebrows and much to Sharon's distain, Bucky blushed. Not did he deny it.
It didn't matter though. She'd find a way to get Bucky's attention, it wasn't like you were real competition anyways. She figured you'd have the sense to like someone better suited for you, someone in your league, definitely not the very handsome Sergeant.
That was until she found out you had a crush on the super soldier yourself. You'd let it slip out during a conversation with Nat, not realizing there was someone near the lab. Sharon didn't think you actually had a chance with Bucky but it didn't matter.
At this point she didn't care about what it took.
She was sick of the way Bucky was soft over you.
So she took a more direct approach.
"Y'know, I heard someone has a little crush on a certain super soldier" Sharon smirked, wandering to your table, tinkering with one of your tools while you looked at her like a deer caught in head lights.
How did she know?!"
"I-I don't-
"Oh please y/n, everyone knows" the blonde rolled her eyes at your gaping mouth before continuing, "I just thought I should let you know that he's not interested"
You felt like you had been punched in the stomach, the hurt expression on your face made her satisfied,.
"Oh" Was all you mustered out, embarrassed beyond belief while she shrugged. You blinked back tears while Sharon squeezed your shoulder out of faux concern, handing you a tissue.
"I'm so sorry, honestly I just thought you should know because he likes me. And I like him. So it would be best for you to move on, because were seeing each other" It didn't matter if it was a lie because she intended on making it real soon enough.
From that day, you avoided everyone in the compound like the plague, throwing yourself into work, feeling ridiculous for having even thought of Bucky that way. Of course he'd never go for someone like you, you should've known that from the start.
Sharon's plan was short lived after she overheard Bucky worriedly asking Tony about where you'd been all week since he hadn't seen you. After some endless teasing, Tony reassured him you were fine and just busy with lab work, not knowing the true reason as to why you'd overloaded yourself.
Sharon despised the pink that decorated Bucky's cheeks whenever someone said your name.
She hated that she'd seen him walking by the lab hallway in search of you.
She'd do anything to end all of this.
Including hurt you.
-
You made your way down to the gym hoping to sweat some of your unrequited feelings away, putting on your headphones before hopping on the treadmill. Sharon walked in moments later, blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, her toned body on full display in nothing but a sports bra and some tiny shorts.
You felt even worse.
You tried to stay hidden, deciding 15 minutes would be enough, though your escape was cut short with Sharon caught your arm just as you were about to leave.
"How about we spar for a bit" She smiled sweetly, giggling at your confused expression. You'd never sparred in your life, in fact this was probably the third time you'd even used the gym the entire time you'd lived at the compound.
"Sharon, I-I don't think that's a good idea, I've never-
She cut you off, dragging you to the mat, practically shoving you to the middle with more force than necessary.
"It's fine! I mean, it's good for you to learn since you work here n'all C'mon, I'll help you and show you what to do" Before you could say anything, Sharon had flipped you onto the mat, twisting your arm behind your back without warning. You gasped in pain as she gripped harder, pulling further up your back until she heard your joints crack.
"Let-let go" You winced out, confused over what part of sparring this was, your body hitting the floor when she released her grip.
"Ops" Sharon pouted with faux innocence, taking a long sip from her water while you hissed in pain, seeing the formation of a bruise already forming on your arm.
"SHARON"
Sharon squeaked in surprised at the loud voice that boomed through the gym, bouncing off the walls. Her eyes shot up to see a very angry super solder making his way over to the mat, eyes darkening as they landed to your injured form on the ground.
"What the fuck did you do?!"
"Bucky, we were just-
"Don't" Bucky growled through gritted teeth, rushing over to your side, and slipping his arm around your waist.
"Angel, are you okay?" He cupped your cheek, helping you to your feet and taking your hand in his, examining it with the utmost care. "Are you hurt anywhere?"
"M'all right" You nodded, your face heating up under his gaze, still a little shaken, your body trembling.
"How the fuck could you hurt her" Bucky spat, his metal hand clenched to his side, itching to punch Sharon in the jaw, having seen what she had just done but he didn't want to deal with the mess that would come afterwards. "The hell did you do that for"
"Excuse me? I was just showing her how to-"
Bucky's jaw clenched, instantly shutting her up. He refused to let go of you, keeping you firmly tucked into his side, growing unbelievably protective over you.
"Fine, go ahead, I'm sure she's different from all your other little side pieces" Sharon scoffed, smirking at the way your face fell. Bucky felt like he'd been hit in the chest; you were far more than any of his hook ups and he'd never considered treating you that way.
"You. Don't. Touch. Her" He glared her at before walking off with you. After the incident, Bucky insisted you go to the doctors to get checked over, waiting outside of the room like a kicked puppy. He couldn't help but feel guilty that all this had happened because of him. He also wondered that you thought.
Did you think he'd just use you for one night?
He would never.
He knew he wasn't into dating. He gave up on the dream of getting married, having kids, all that years ago. But that was before he met you. Ever since you'd thrown him a shy smile along with the softest hello Sergeant Barnes, Bucky had been a goner.
If his feelings were was bad before, it was even worse now.
You were told to ice your arm for the pain and swelling. Bucky had swept you away right to the kitchen, despite you telling him you'd be fine, plopping you onto the kitchen island wrapping an ice pack in a towel. He held it to your arm, frowning at the way you refused to look at him, your face downcast to the floor.
"Doll?" Bucky wrapped his arms around you for a comforting hug, wondering if the altercating with Sharon was still upsetting you, "Are you okay sweets? I missed you, haven't seen you in ages"
"I-I'm fine, I'm sorry" You pulled away from his arms, remembering Sharon's words from earlier, instantly missing the warmth of his body. "I know you don't feel the same way Bucky" You bit your lip to keep it from trembling.
Bucky blinked in confusion, having no idea what you were talking about. What did he not feel the same way over.
"What do you mean y/n"
"I mean I like you-but I know you don't like me that way so I kept myself busy so I wouldn't bother you because Sharon said-
"Wait, slow down, what did Sharon say"
You sighed before recounting all the things that had lead to this moment, Sharon insulting you, then telling you to back off, to straight up fighting you.
"Oh doll" Bucky shook his head, feeling worse over what had happened but over the moon over your confessed feelings, "She's right you know," He teased at the pout that made it's way to your lips before playfully pecking them, catching you by surprise.
"I don't do relationships. Certainly never had before. That was before I met the sweetest thing in the world and she's had my heart since" Bucky whispered, his hands, one warm, one cool cupping your cheeks, "She has me dreamin' of sayin' I do and that white picket fence, a ring on her finger, a pretty little baby bump with flowers on the window sill. Maybe a baby boy n' a baby girl. Maybe even a cat. She's the cutest little lab assistance and I'd love for her to be my girl, sweets"
Bucky held your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing over your warm cheeks while you grew bashfully shy, burying your face into his chest instead, making him chuckle.
"I didn't think you were the relationship type" You shrugged, toying with his dog tags, "I'm not you're darlin' Bucky"
"That's cause you're my doll" Bucky tilted your face up making you look up at him, his lips pressing the softest kiss to your nose and then your lips. "My one and only doll"
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thestarkinternship · 2 months
Text
Mine
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: One Shot (Smut)
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Summary: When you went out for drinks with the team one Friday, you had no idea that this was how the night would end: with your back pressed flush against your bedroom door, a shaking thigh hitched over your boyfriend's shoulder and his pretty mouth daring you to completely let go for everyone to hear.
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: no mention of Y/N, profanity, oral sex (female receiving), jealous!Bucky, posessive!Bucky, slight praise kink, slight exhibitionism (people overhearing), hickeys, MINORS DNI!
A/N: This is my first time writing anything like this and i was (still am) very nervous to post it. But I promised myself I'd get back into writing, even if this is how I'm doing it. Thank you @ellemj for encouraging me to do this <3
"What do you think you were playing at tonight, huh?" Bucky's low voice caught your attention the second the pair of you walked through the door to your room. Looking up from the dresser where you had set your purse down, you met his eye. What once were bright blue had now clouded over with something else, something darker. Jealousy.
A lot of things came from having a secret relationship with Bucky. You got to see the sweet, caring side that he showed to no one else. You got to be the one he trusted most, and in turn place your trust in him. Above all else, you got to love each other. Tenderly, passionately, consumingly. And to you, the best part of it was that the other Avengers were none the wiser. All of the love and shared moments were kept just for you, hidden in late night walks and early morning kisses. It was better kept that way, you had always thought. No one was able to interfere with what they didn't know about.
But Bucky's mind thought differently, even if he had never wanted to admit it. He would've shouted from the rooftop of the Avenger's tower how much he loved you if you would've asked him to. He'd wrap a strong arm around your curves in front of everyone and kissed you on the cheek, a proud grin on his face as he got to show off the fact that you were all his. But he'd suppressed how he really wanted to act in favour of keeping you happy. After all, that was what mattered to him most of all.
That was until tonight. Bucky knew he was in trouble from the second you set foot in the place. There you were, your skirt grazing the top of your thighs, your long sleeved black shirt clinging to your curves like an elastic band. His eyes were no longer the only ones on you, and there wasn't a damn thing that he could do about it. Until now that you were back home.
"What are you talking about?" You asked quietly, looking up at him.
"You know damn well what i'm talking about." He took a daring step closer to you.
With a mind of their own, your feet took a hesitant step back, the soft click of your heels dragging across the floorboard in the uncomfortable silence. It wasn't like you were afraid of him, you never had been. But there was a dangerous atmosphere surrounding him that made you nervous.
He closed in on you as you didn't answer. Leaning down, his lips hovered close to your own, leaving just enough space for his thumb to reach up and trace your quivering bottom lip. You'd always thought it felt more personal when he touched you with his right arm. As much as you loved the feel of the cool metal sliding acros your skin, it was like he craved the true feeling of the flushed heat from your skin as it reacted to his touch and his touch only. In between your shaky breaths, his thumb dipped between your parted lips. But you resisted the urge to suck on it in the way he liked until you got to the bottom of what was getting this much of a rise out of him. When he saw that you weren't giving in to him just as he wanted, Bucky's tongue rolled in his own mouth.
Fine, if that's how you were going to be. He thought stubbornly.
He withdrew his thumb from your mouth, dragging down your bottom lip as he leaned in to capture it in a hungry kiss. As confused as you were about the whole thing right now, one thing was certain - when it came to kissing Bucky Barnes, you were certainly not about to complain or ask him to stop. His metal arm flew to your hip, the soft material of your skirt bunching up in his fist. You shivered slightly as the vibranium unintentionally brushed against your bare skin. Still holding onto you, he guided your hips back until you heard the soft thud of your body against the door as your back pressed against it. His right hand slid from the side of your face and to the nape of your neck. Reaching up, Bucky tugged gently at the root of your curls, twirling the soft strands around his rough hand. A soft gasp left your mouth, giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours. You welcomed the feeling, giving in to him completely as the curious thoughts about what had led you to this position slipped from your mind.
And just as quickly as it had began, his lips were gone. They trailed across your trembling jaw and down the soft juncture of your neck. His tight grip released your hair, and your head nearly fell slack against his at the sudden loss of the physical control over you. Bucky tilted your chin back up and to the side, his precise movements giving him all of the access to your exposed throat that he desired. Delicate kisses on your skin turned rough, and his teeth gently nipped at you to earn soft whimpers. He smirked against your skin, rolling it between his full lips even harder.
"Fuck, you're gonna leave a mark…" you whined, "Bucky, you're being too damn rough, you're gonna…"
Bucky finally let go off your skin, but kept dangerously close to your ear instead. There was a split second before he spoke where all you could here was his panting breaths, and that alone kept your heart pounding.
"Maybe I should mark you up," Bucky's voice was ragged, "send you down to breakfast tomorrow morning covered in hickeys that I gave to you, just to remind Steve every time that he sets eyes on your pretty face that you're mine."
Your hazy eyes shot wide open. There it was. That's what this whole ordeal had been about? Bucky was jealous of Steve?
"Wh-what do you mean?" You could barely stutter out.
"Back in the bar tonight."
You swallowed nervously as you cast your mind back over the events of the evening. Being excited to see everyone. Knocking back several drinks over the course of the evening. Bucky smirking as you found any excuse to get close to him without anyone noticing. Nodding politely in your conversation with Steve as you tried to distract yourself from the less than pure thoughts that arose whenever you made eye contact with Bucky. Thinking about how good he looked in that leather jacket. Wondering how long it would be before you'd be dragging him back to the tower and taking it off him- Fuck. You were doing it again.
Bucky's face softened when he realised that you truly had no idea what he was talking at. He chuckled slightly at your obliviousness. How could someone so intelligent miss the careless flirtation thrown her way from her teammate?
"He was flirting with you all night, you know?" Bucky pulled back slightly, his hand moved from your chin to cup the side of your face. His earlier confidence wavered as he suddenly felt a pang of guilt for getting so jealous. "Did you really not see how he was looking at you? I swear, he must've pulled every trick in the book to try and get your attention tonight."
Looking past the jealously, you saw a vulnerability. The fear that he might lose you to someone else. You hummed gently, stroking his cheek as he kept you so close.
"How was I supposed to notice when all of my attenion was on you?" You asked gently.
He smiled at your reassurance. "Really?"
"Of course, James."
"And what about right now? Where is all of your attention?" Bucky tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
"Right on you." You murmured, watching him lean in again.
"Exactly where it should be." His hand left your face. It trailed down your neck, and then your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake as it joined his vibranium one at your hips.
And suddenly, his lips picked up where they left off, kissing and teasing your skin. He bent his head down further to your collarbone, and then the crest of your cleavage as it peeked out of your lowcut top. Squirming, your back arched away from the door and into his waiting arms. The subtle movement of your body gave Bucky space to slip his hand up under your skirt to cup your ass. His fingers pressed into the soft flesh as he hooked your leg around his waist, pressing his hips against yours. A soft gasp echoed from your trembling lips as you felt just how hard he was through his jeans.
"Can't say I blame Steve when you look this good, doll. So fucking pretty. And it's all for me.. God, I don't know how much longer I can keep us a secret. Want everyone to know you're mine." He mumbled in quick succession as his lips worked their way back across your skin to capture you in another sweet kiss.
"What if I want that too?" You asked softly, biting your lip.
The corners of his lips tugged into a smirk. "You sure? I thought-"
"I'm tired of hiding us," you interrupted, "i'm yours, and it's time everyone else knew."
"If that's what you want…" He teased, an idea playing out in his mind as he dropped to his knees in front of you.
"Bucky, what are you-" Your own gasp cut you off as you felt him lift you leg, resting it over his shoulder. He kissed your inner thigh and your head fell back against the door.
Oh, that's where he was going with this.
Tracing lazy circles up your thigh, his mouth worked it's way up. Every movement made left you needy and wanting more. Soft moans from you filled the room, and his enhanced hearing heard every one as your thighs cushioned his ears. The sounds you made when he hadn't even touched you yet were embarassing. But you couldn't help yourself. Bucky knew how to push you closer to the edge better than anyone, and he wasn't afraid of showing it. By the time he reached the edge of your underwear, you were done for. Your arousal soaked through the thin material, and you knew he could feel it. Bucky chuckled slightly against the lace fabric, his heavy breath sending waves of pleasure straight to your core. Hips stuttering against his face, you grinded closer in a desperate need for him to do something else. Anything else.
"What's the matter, hm?" He murmured, licking right up to your clit. Even over your underwear, the touch was more than enough to make your body quiver.
"Bucky…" You whined, running your hands through his hair and tugging lightly.
"Someone's awfully needy," He tutted. Looking up at you, Bucky grinned like a devil as your wetness spread across his pink lips, "Who's got you like this?"
But you were so far gone in your own world that you almost didn't hear him. When you didn't immediately answer him, he grew impatient. Bucky's tongue rolled over the flimsy lace once again and your thigh tensed over his shoulder. The stem of your heel dug into his back slightly, drawing him in closer to you. To where you so desperately wanted him to be.
"Tell me." His voice was hoarse and demanding.
Another flick of his tongue. Another cry from your lips. "Y-you… always you."
"Good girl." He paused momentarily, hooking his thumb under the delicate edge of your underwear and ripping it to the side. You gulped nervously at the tearing sound of it as he finally set eyes on your bare core. "And now I want you to let everyone in this damn building hear it."
-
The next morning at breakfast was awkward to say the least. When you walked into the kitchen midmorning, legs still shaking, all eyes were on you.
"Morning." You mumbled, avoiding eye contact as you prayed no one would bring up the night before. You simply wanted them to realise you were dating Bucky now, and leave it at that, not another word mentioned. The few team members already there smiled politely, ignoring the obvious elephant in the room. As you wrapped your hands around a coffee mug, the sleeves of Bucky's sweater encase your hands. The cheeky bastard had insisted that you wear it today 'for good measure', because apparently the way you had screamed his name all night long wasn't enough. It still smelled like his cologne, marking both the jumper and you with traces of him. You kept your head down, hair covering the purple marks on your neck. As the strands brushed over the sensitive skin, you winced.
"Everything okay?" Steve asked quietly, glancing your way.
As you turned to meet his eye, your carefully placed hair shifted. Steve's gaze dropped to your neck, eyes widening at the sight he was met with. Looking over the purple that stained your skin, he swallowed nervously whilst trying to find the right words to say.
Eventually, he cleared his throat and spoke what was on everyone's mind. "So, uh… last night… was that you that we heard with… you guys are…"
"Yeah." Your head snapped up to the doorway of the kitchen. Bucky leaned against the frame, his arms folded across his chest and a smug grin plastered across his face, "She's mine. And don't you ever forget it."
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slutt4lovee · 3 months
Text
friends (b.b.)
𝚗𝚊𝚟𝚒 - 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 - 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 - 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝
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pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader
word count: 2356
warnings: NO SMUT, just cutesy fluff, maybe just a tiny bit of angst but not really, nothing really to warn about. might be some typos and shit but at this point y'all should be expecting this from my dyslexic ass.
summary: After being friends with Bucky for years, you finally get the confession you've been dreaming of.
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Being Bucky's friend isn't really as great as Steve made it seem. Sure, Bucky is caring and funny and fiercely protective of the things and people that he loves. Yes, he's funny and charming and everything good in the world, but he is also arrogant and cocky and so emotionally repressed that you're not even sure he knows what feelings are anymore.
Being Bucky's friend means that you're also the Winter Soldier's best friend and that is a horrible feeling. Not because of the fact that he is the Winter Soldier but more so because the Winter Soldier has a fucking martyr complex. Despite the fact that Bucky is an amazing person who you think encompasses every good aspect of the world, he's an incredible dumbass. Not just a regular dumbass, the kind of fucking idiot that thinks everyone else, everything else is more important than him. The kind of idiotic person that thinks everyone but him is worth saving, the kind who runs head first into danger because he genuinely doesn't care if he lives or dies as long as he saves someone. Bucky is the type of imbecile that would run into a building, knowing it was rigged with explosives just to save a cat.
Bucky may be one of the best people you've ever met, but being his friend is horrible.
It's caring so intensely for someone who doesn't even care about himself. It's not being able to see or even speak to him for weeks or months because he's off on some insanely stupid mission to save the fucking world or something stupid like that. It's him constantly thinking he's some kind of invincible god and you having to remind him over and over and over that he's not. No matter how much he might look like one. It's trying to convince someone that hates his entire fucking existence that he deserves every soft, sappy thing in the world no matter how much he thinks he doesn't.
But worst of all it's being in love with a complete fucking idiot who doesn't even think he's worthy of love. You'd take all the anxiety, the panic, the dread, the crying and worry a million times over if you could just not be in love with that complete fucking dumbass. Or if you could maybe convince him that he deserves all the love in the fucking world.
You can't sleep, never can when he's gone. Some stupid romance movie you've seen about a hundred times plays on your tv—a feeble attempt to keep your mind off Bucky. To keep your mind from imagining what he's doing on his mission and all the ways it could go horribly wrong.
It doesn't really work.
It's almost impossible to keep him out of your mind. When you're not worrying about all the ways he could be killed, you're pining after him in the worst fucking way.
Just staring mindlessly at the screen daydreaming about him and the way his clothes always fit just right, just enough to give you a good view of his muscles without being too tight. And the way he looks in his stupidly attractive one armed outfits he wears on missions—which shouldn't be so fucking hot, but it is, it really fucking is. And his lips, just everything about them, their shape, their pretty pink color, the way they look so fucking soft all the god damned time. And that boyish, way too endearing, smirk of his that makes your heart feel like it's about to burst out of your chest. And his hands and the way they feel against your skin, rough calloused fingers with a touch so soft it sends chills down your spine. And—and, God you're so fucking fucked about him.
He's your best friend, really one of your only friends, and yet you can't stop thinking about him doing filthy things—that he would probably never do—to you. It's horrible and dirty and disrespectful but you just can't stop, thinking about Bucky's mouth and if it's really as soft as it looks.
You smell him before you even hear him, woody smoke, and honey, mixed with sweat. You smile softly to yourself as he drops his bag to the ground with a little grunt. Your mind moves slowly, struggling through your lack of sleep to put pieces together. You're clumsily climbing over the back of the couch the second you realize he's really there.
"Bucky," You start to say, stumbling a little at the ungraceful way you dismount from the back of the couch. "What the fuck?" You ask, waving your hands up and down in his general direction.
He's not sure if you're questioning his appearance or his presence...maybe both. You're not really sure either.
"I just got back," He mutters, words dripping with exhaustion as his arms slip lazily around your waist, making you trip over your own feet as he pulls you into his chest.
"You didn't text," You whisper, matching the soft tone of his voice as you slide your arms around his neck, resting your chin on his shoulder.
He doesn't respond right away, he pulls you closer instead, grabbing onto your shirt to keep you there as if you had any plans on letting go. He makes a soft, barely audible noise, as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. His arms are tight around your waist, holding you to him like he's scared you're just gonna disappear and the thought makes your chest ache. You tilt your head, squeezing your eyes shut as your nose presses into the top of his shoulder, your lips just barely touching the leather on his jacket. Your nose floods with his scent, and you find yourself wishing you could capture it and keep it forever. He smells like camping in the summer, like searching for bugs and plants and pretty rocks in the woods, like staring up at the sky and pointing out the prettiest ones.
He smells likehome, warm and cozy and safe.
Slowly it feels like every ounce of worry and dread is leached out of your body. He's home, he's safe, he's here in your arms and nothing else fucking matters. This is the good part, this right here, all the worrying and sleepless nights are worth it just for this feeling. This happy sort of peaceful relief you get every time he comes back safe.
"M'sorry," He mutters after a few seconds, his words muffled in the crook of your neck. "Jus' wanted to get home."
Your stomach twists at that, a giddy sort of feeling floating around in your stomach at his words. He came straight from his mission to you. Didn't stop at his place, didn't go to the compound, he came straight to you. Straight home to you.
"Took ya long enough." You whisper against his shoulder, voice light and teasing as his grip on your shirt tightens.
He doesn't say anything, but you can tell this one must've been rough on him. It's obvious from the way he's clutching your shirt like a lifeline. Holding you to his chest like he thought he'd never see you again, like he's scared to let go. You don't ask him about it, he'll talk when he's ready, but you do hold him just as tight as he holds you. Rub your hands along his back, over his shoulder, up the back of his neck, lingering the softest touches everywhere you can reach because you know it calms him down.
"S'good you came home, you were gone so long I was about to come lookin' for you." You tell him, smiling softly against his neck at the little snort he lets out.
He's quiet for a bit longer, just standing there with his arms around your waist, his hands clutching at your shirt like he's terrifiedyou're going to vanish. After a while he relinquishes your shirt and before you can even think about pulling away, not that you would, his hands are running down to the backs of your thighs.
"M'sorry," He murmurs into your neck, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist like you weigh absolutely nothing. "Came as quick as I could, darlin', didn't even get to shower or anything."
"Did you eat?" You ask softly, holding onto him a little tighter as he hooks his arms back around your waist.
He shakes his head and you start to offer to cook him something while he showers but he's walking in the direction of your bedroom before you can get a single word out. He nudges your bedroom door open with the toe of his boot without saying a word and it makes you frown because Bucky is never silent around you. Talks so damn much you started to think he just liked the sound of his own voice (really he just loved the sound of yours but he's not about to admit something that sappy).
"Do you want to eat?" You ask, voice all soft and sweet in a way that makes his head spin.
He shakes his head again and without even letting go of you, he falls forward onto your bed, sandwiching you between him and your mattress. He's heavy, dense, thick muscle directly on top of you, but you don't complain. You wouldn't dare tell him that he's crushing your fucking chest because then he'd let go and you don't want that.
He settles with his head on your chest, his ear pressed up against the center of it. Listening closely to the sound of your heart like he didn't believe it was real. His hand slips a little under the hem of your shirt but stays resting on your hip as if all he wanted was just to feel your skin.
He's silent for a while, laying so still that you almost think he's fallen asleep. You don't say anything either because what could you possibly say? You could tell him about work or something but you're almost certain he doesn't want to hear that.
"Thought you were dead..." He whispers as he nuzzles his face against the center of your chest. His hands squeeze at your hips and you can't shake the feeling that he's trying to make sure you're real.
You don't really know what to say to that either. You stroke your fingers through his hair and you swear you feel your heart break a little at the pain in his voice.
"God, I thought you were fucking dead..." His voice cracks a little this time and his arms wrap around your waist tight, too tight but you don't say a thing. You're happy to just let him squeeze the life out of you if it makes him feel even a little bit better. "They...they got in my head, made me see things...and all I could think about was that I never got the chance to tell you."
"Tell me what?" You ask and you think your voice comes out a bit strained because he immediately loosens his grip.
"That I'm fucking in love with you," He forces out, voice rough with emotion as he shifts a little so that he's looking down at you.
Your heart fucking stops at his words and all you can do is just stare up at him like a complete fool. Cheeks flushing bright red and eyes wide as you stammer and choke on 16 different failed attempts at speech.
He loves you. No. He's in love with you.
"I thought you were dead and all I could think about was that you didn't know I loved you." He tells you, voice softening some as his eyes scan over your face. "All I wanted to fucking do was hold you and kiss you and just fucking touch you again and I know that's so fucking selfish of me but...fuck."
"You...love me?" Your voice comes out all meek and unsure as you look up at him. You're not even sure if your heart has started beating again because it feels like you could, very well, drop dead at any fucking second.
"Of course I do you fucking idiot." Bucky laughs and the sound is utterly heart wrenching to you. He tries to smile but it just looks so fucking sad that you want to cry.
And maybe he's right and you are a fucking idiot because you can't think of anything to say. You want to tell him you love him too but the words won't come up, they stick in the back of your throat and make you choke. All you can manage is to reach out, grab his face, and pull it down to yours in a pathetic excuse for a kiss.
He kisses you back instantly, taking control of the kiss, somehow calmer than you. His lips are soft and sweet against yours and nowhere near as clunky and uncoordinated as you but he doesn't seem to mind in the slightest. He smiles a little against your near frantic lips, one hand coming up to cradle the side of your face.
It's not your first kiss, not even close, but you're so clumsy with it that it damn near feels like it. He hums against your lips like it's the best damn kiss he's ever had, strokes his thumb over your cheek and laughs when your teeth hit his.
You think he'll pull away, you would if you were him, but he doesn't. If anything he kisses you a bit harder, trying to take control of the kiss and guide your lips to work with his and it works wonders, you practically melt into it. He makes a soft, pleased sound in the back of his throat when you finally relax and then his tongue slides over your bottom lip and you melt all over again.
You've never been the biggest fan of tongue kissing, it's always just so wet and slimy and forceful. But there's something about the way Bucky's tongue slides so so softly across your bottom lip that has you parting your lips without a second thought. And you don't fucking regret it at all.
It doesn't feel all slimy and gross like you're used to. His tongue is soft and wet and there's a faint hint of sweet mint as he kisses you. One of his hands squeezes at your waist under your shirt and he fucking groans like kissing you is the best thing he's ever experienced.
He kisses you until you're both breathless, until your lips are raw and swollen and slick with spit.
His forehead presses against yours and his voice comes out all hoarse and raspy as he says, "Fuck, I could kiss you for fucking ever,"
You laugh at that and the noise is so soft and sweet that it makes his breath hitch. You flutter your eyes open, thumbs stroking at the side of his neck as you look up at his flushed face.
"I love you too," You whisper and God, the way he smiles sends a jolt of warm heat through your body. "I didn't say it earlier, but I do. I really fucking do."
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wwilsonbarness · 9 months
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i can't do this anymore
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pairings: bucky barnes x y/n reader  
summary: You overhear Bucky’s conversation with your friends and assume the worst but you couldn’t have been more wrong. 
warnings: ANGSTTT, fluffy ending, mention of marriage, more angst “I’m sorry i can’t help it), miscommunication. 
word count: 3665
a/n: I’m in serious need of miscommunication fics (I'm a sucker for angst) so I’d be grateful for any recommendations!! Enjoy <3 
Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 
I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.
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“Buck? Can you pass my clothes?” You had just stepped out of the shower and realised you left your clothes in your room, but Bucky didn’t answer. “Buck?” He still didn’t answer so you wrapped your towel around you and headed through to see the room empty. You begin to get dressed before you hear Sam’s voice from the living room, he wasn’t supposed to be here for another half hour. Every week Bucky and Sam took it in turns to host dinner for the three of you and Sam’s girlfriend, Olivia. This week was yours and Bucky’s turn to host and you were super excited to serve your new recipe. Hearing the voices made you even more excited, but stressed as you still had some cooking to do before they were supposed to be here. You finish getting dressed and apply a little bit of makeup as quickly as you can. These dinners weren’t formal so it didn’t take long to get ready, they were mostly just so Sam and Bucky had some comfort after their missions, especially recently with them having to deal with John Walker. You take one last look in the mirror before heading through, until you hear something that stops you in your step.
“I mean I can’t say I’m surprised.. one look at you two and it’s obvious,” Sam tried to whisper but failed. “how are you gonna do it?”  Do what? You were confused what they were talking about, part of was tempted to interrupt but your curiosity took over. 
“I don’t know.. It’s just..” Bucky was stuttering which he only did when he was nervous, this really made you worry about what they were talking about. “It’s just she’s different from other girls, you know? And I know we haven’t been together that long but I can’t do it anymore. Do what anymore? “It’s not like I don’t love what we have but I just feel like I need more” More? You couldn’t help but overthink what you were hearing. They were talking about you, you weren't enough for him. I mean sure you’d thought that about yourself so many times but hearing it from the man you truly thought was the love of your life hurt. 
“I know what it’s like when you find the one, it’s the best feeling in the world.” You couldn’t see this but Sam had kissed Olivia’s head after his words. “This is gonna be good for you man, I’m happy for you.” 
You couldn’t bring yourself to hear anymore, the tears were already fighting their way out. You quietly walk back into your bedroom and try and calm down, you just had to get through tonight, just tonight and then you and Bucky could talk. You were at your happiest with Bucky, you thought Bucky was too but.. you didn’t even want to finish that thought. Bucky’s happiness was the most important thing to you, and if that meant he wasn’t with you anymore you would have to find a way to get through that. No matter how hard it would be for you, you just wanted him to be happy.
You took a few minutes to compose yourself,  your eyes were red and a little puffy but not enough for anyone to notice. You hoped anyway. This time when you left your bedroom you made sure to close the door loud enough so they could hear you coming and hopefully change the subject. 
“Hey guys, you’re early.” you said as you walked in, Sam and Olivia both stood up to give you a hug as you came in. 
“Yeah sorry we were just a couple blocks over and it didn’t make sense going all the way back home just to come out again,” Sam replied with a smile. “Buck said it was okay.” 
“Of course it is, you guys are always welcome, you know that!” You were surprisingly good at keeping how you really felt hidden, but with your words you couldn’t help but think you would lose Sam and Olivia as friends when Bucky ended things between you, they were technically Bucky’s friends first but you’d grown to see them as practically family as your relationship grew. You tried to push that thought away, you just had to get through tonight you kept repeating to yourself in your head. 
“You okay doll?” Bucky asks as he wraps his arms around you. You plaster on a smile hoping he wouldn’t sense anything being wrong. 
“Course! Just need to check on the food.” Normally Bucky’s touch helped you in situations like this but with what you heard his touch was only making you feel worse. You manage to untangle yourself from his arms and head to the kitchen. You notice that the ingredients and glasses were still laying out for the drinks you’d planned to make. “Do you guys want any drinks?” 
“Yes please!” Sam and Bucky replied at the same time. 
“I’ll help you.” you heard Olivia say through the wall. It only takes a couple seconds before she’s standing next to you in the kitchen. You and Olivia were like best friends, and she’s the reason you and Bucky were together. You had worked together for a few years, you drifted a little when she left that job but it only took one reunion dinner to get your friendship back to normal. That was 2 years ago, and from that night on she had insisted on setting up you and Bucky. It took a while for the meeting to actually happen but once it did you knew he was the one for you. Was. Not anymore. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Olivia asks quietly, she was aware of Bucky’s super soldier hearing and wanted to talk to you alone. 
You nodded and forced another smile. “Just a busy week, my boss is still being a dick.” 
“Ugh, you deserve so much better than having to work for that guy. He’s a creep.” She said at a normal volume now. “You should send Bucky after him, make him know he can’t treat you like that just cause he’s the boss.” She brings her hands up to put air quotes around ‘boss’, as he’s only technically the boss for the month while your real boss was on vacation. 
“I’ll manage.” You tried to play it off, you wouldn’t have Bucky there to help you soon, and you needed to stand up for yourself. 
“You know he would do anything for you.” 
“You think?” 
“Yep. I mean have you seen the way he looks at you?” 
“Hmm.” you mumbled. “Here,” You pass her two glasses with drinks in it. “take these and I’ll bring the other two once i’ve checked the food.” 
“Okay,” She starts to walk about but turns at the last minute, “It smells good by the way, I can’t wait.” 
“Thanks” you laughed as she walked away. She could tell there was something different with you tonight but she couldn’t figure out what was wrong, it felt like it was more than just your boss being a dick. 
You tried to take as long as you could checking the food without it being too long that someone would notice. After just under 10 minutes you walk through. “Dinner should only be a little longer.” You pass a glass to Bucky and keep one for yourself, normally you’d sit close to Bucky but tonight you kept your distance, opting for the armchair in the corner. Bucky thought this was weird but he kept it to himself. 
“So, what did I miss?” You hoped they would somehow be able to explain away what you heard but your hope didn’t last long as they started to talk about Sam’s plans to get a lizard. 
“Sam, we’re not getting a lizard,” Olivia replied, “if you insist on getting a pet why can’t it be a normal one like a cat or a dog.” This only reminded you of the plans you and Bucky made to adopt a cat, this was torture. Everything was reminding you of what you were about to lose. 
“I’ll look after it babe, you won’t even have to touch it.” Sam tried pleading. 
“And when you’re away on missions?” Olivia argued back playfully. 
“Okay, you got me.” You laughed a little at Sam releasing this was one battle he was going to lose. “What about you guys? You still planning on getting a cat?” 
Bucky looked at you as Sam asked the question, how were you supposed to answer this when you didn’t even know the answer anymore, luckily Bucky notices the panic on your face and jumps in to answer.” 
“Yeah man, we just have to find the time to get to the shelter.” 
“See,” He turns his head to his left, staring at his girl, “Y/n let’s Bucky get the pet he wants.” He was only teasing, he knew logically he couldn’t get a lizard but it was fun to pretend. 
“Lizards and cats are not the same thing.” 
“Y/n/n help me out here please” Sam pleads to you. 
“Sorry Sam, I’m on Olivia's side here.” You reply whilst laughing. 
“Traitor” he mumbles under his breath making everyone laugh. Bucky noticed it wasn’t your real laugh but he wasn’t sure why. Normally you loved bantering back and forth with them. 
You kept on chatting for 20 minutes before the oven timer went off, just in time as Bucky was about to tell an embarrassing story about you.
“Ah! Saved by the bell” you joked. 
“Don’t think I won’t forget to tell it after dinner!” Bucky shouts through, and you can’t help but laugh before thinking about it deeper. Was that one of the things he couldn’t do anymore, was he really embarrassed by you? 
You tried so hard to push those thoughts away and focus on getting through the dinner, you started plating up the food you were so excited about only an hour before. But you got lost in your thoughts again and picked up the hot tray with your bare hand, burning yourself in the process. “Shit.” The tray fell to the floor, luckily you had already plated everything and you were just moving it to the sink. Bucky rushes through and sees the tray on the ground and you gripping your hand towards your chest. 
“What happened?” He comes towards you but you walk back away from him. “What’s wrong?” You could see the worry in his eyes but all you could think about was his words earlier. I can't do it anymore. 
“I’m fine, Bucky.” You didn’t mean to but you snapped back at him. 
“You’re not fine.” he moves closer and tries to reach for your hand but you pull it closer to you, he notices and steps back. “Y/n?” You don’t say anything. “Look please just run your hand under some cold water at least, please?” 
“Can you just take the food through, I’ll be there in a minute.” You tried to hide the shakiness in your voice but he could hear it. This brought him back to the start of your relationship, you both struggled to open up to each other but he thought you had both gotten better at it, which is why he was extra worried.
He nodded, you hated yourself for being the reason he was sad, he didn’t deserve that. “I’m sorry.” 
“It’s okay doll, just know I’m here for you okay?” You nodded but kept your gaze to the floor. He first grabs the tray with his left hand and puts it in the sink then picks up the plates and brings them through, having to make two trips. He doesn’t want to leave you but he wants to give you the space you asked for. You run your hand under the cold tap for a couple of minutes before drying it off and making your way to the table. 
“You okay y/n?” Sam asks as you sit down next to Bucky, there were only 4 seats at the table so sitting next to him was your only option. Bucky turns to you, concern filling his eyes, he sends a smile your way and you try to send one back. He went to put his hand on your thigh but you see him stop himself and bring it back to his leg. 
“Yeah, all good, just burnt my finger on a tray. How’s the food?” 
“It’s amazing as always.” Olivia answers.
 “Thanks again for having us over.” Sam adds
“It’s a new recipe, and no need to thank me. You know you are both welcome here anytime.” You reply, happy that they like it. 
“Tastes great Doll.” Bucky’s voice was quiet, almost like he was scared to speak, he had a slight smile growing as you turned to him. 
“Thank you Bucky.” 
The rest of the night went just like that, the four of you spoke about planning a trip to New Orleans, you felt yourself get excited about it but then grounded yourself, reminding yourself that it probably wouldn’t go ahead. Well, it maybe would, you just wouldn’t be there. Sam and Olivia stayed for a couple more hours, they couldn’t stay as late as usual as Olivia had picked up an early shift at work the next day. When they left you saw Sam and Bucky whisper something to each other, but you were too far to hear anything. 
Now you and Bucky were alone, it had just been the two of you for 10 minutes and none of you had broken the silence until now. 
“Y/n?” Bucky asks quietly, testing the atmosphere. You took the shakiness in his voice as a sign he was angry, when it was really because he was worried about you. You don’t say anything but bring your head up so you could see him. “Can we talk?” Oh god. This was it. He was gonna do it right now. You weren’t ready, you never would be but you couldn’t do this right now. 
“Bucky, I’m really tired, could we talk in the morning?” You were desperately hoping he would say yes. 
“Yeah..” He stands up and walks towards the bathroom, stopping slightly at you but speeds up again after a moment. “I’m gonna quickly shower then I’ll come to bed.” 
“Okay.” Almost a whisper but he heard it. 
You go through to your room and get changed, ignoring the mess in the kitchen. That was something you’d worry about tomorrow. You crawled into bed, facing the wall and tried to force the sleep to take over. It doesn’t take long for Bucky to come in next to you, you feel him hesitate but he wraps his arms around you and brings his mouth around to kiss your forehead. “I love you.” 
You hoped he’d think you were sleeping, and not know you were pretending. You tried to find comfort in his touch but it only reminded you that this time tomorrow you probably wouldn’t have him wrapped around you. You could feel your eyes growing wetter as you thought about this but you forced yourself to stop before it turned into a full meltdown. That would for sure wake Bucky up. So you sat there in silence, sometimes you could hear a quiet mechanical murmur from Bucky’s arm, and sometimes the one big deep breath he takes every few minutes. By the time morning comes you only got about an hour of sleep, you were exhausted and anxious for what was going to happen today. 
“Doll?” he pauses for a minute waiting for an answer, “Are you up?” 
“Yeah, I'm up.” You don’t turn around to face him like you normally would, you keep your eyes on the wall. 
“I was thinking we could go to your favourite cafe today? The one with the-” You interrupt him and turn around to face him, sitting cross legged. 
“It’s okay Bucky.” He’s confused about what you mean so he stays quiet hoping you'll continue which you do. “I heard you talking with Sam and Olivia..” Bucky’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. 
“You heard us?” Shit. He wanted it to be a surprise. 
“I did. So can you just do it now? Get it over and done with, so we can both move on.”
“What? You want me to do it right now?” 
“Yes. Please, just do it.” You knew you were coming across harsh but you needed this torture to end. 
“Erm. Okay..”  He stood up out of bed and walked over to his dresser, and started to dig through one of his drawers. “This isn’t really how I pictured doing this and I thought you’d be more excited but..” Excited? Why would you be excited over losing him? Once he finds what he was looking for he walks back over and brings himself down to his knees beside the bed. 
“Bucky what-” 
“My turn to talk doll..” What the hell was happening. “Y/n, you have been the best thing in my life since the very first day I met you. It might sound cliche but you’re the missing piece I always thought I’d never find. I know this might seem fast but..” He pulls a small box from behind his back. Oh my god. He was proposing. What. You wanted to stop him but the words wouldn’t come out, it was like your mouth was glued shut. “.. I don’t think I could ever feel happier than I do right now with you but It would mean the absolute world to me if you-” 
“Wait!! Stop!” Bucky’s smile dropped. He’d been scared to ask you but he didnt think rejection was actually a possibility. 
“What?” You stood up and started pacing back and forth, panic setting in. 
“Oh my god Bucky. Stand up!” He stood up slowly and closed the ring box, the loud click making things even realer. “Bucky, what were you talking about with Sam and Olivia?” 
“I thought you heard me? I was telling them I wanted to propose, I want to spend the rest of my time with you. This definitely isn't how I wanted it to go. I’m sorry if I.. I thought you’d want this too.” 
“Oh my god Bucky. I am so sorry. I’m so sorry, I messed up.” You were beginning to lose control of your breathing and your eyes were starting to burn, you were still pacing back and forth. “I thought you wanted to end things, I thought you were done with us.”
“What?! Why did you think that?” He had never been so confused in his whole life. 
“You told them you wanted more, and.. that I wasn’t like other girls.. and..” The tears had escaped now and it was hard to talk properly. “and you said you couldn’t do this a-anymore.” 
“Oh baby.” Bucky walks over to you and pulls you gently to the bed, he sits next to you but keeps one of his arms wrapped around you. “I did say those things but not in the way you think. Did you listen to the rest of what we said?” You shook your head, which only made your growing headache worse. “When I said I wanted more I was talking about marrying you, in case you haven't figured that out by the -I don’t even know if i can call that a proposal- but doll, I want to marry you, I wanted to show you how much I love you and how serious I was about us.” He tries to turn himself slightly so he can see your face properly. 
“I was right when I said you aren’t like other girls, I don’t want you to be like anyone else. I want you to be you, my girl. The girl I fell in love with the first day I met you. I’ve been planning to propose for a while but I couldn’t keep it in any longer, that’s what I meant when I said I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t wait any longer to ask you. I love you so much, doll.” 
Oh god. You were so embarrassed. You had gotten everything so wrong. “Bucky, I'm so sorry. I didn’t, I don’t want things to end with us. I’m so sorry.” 
“It’s okay baby, really it’s okay. I just wished you’d talked to me about it. You can come to me about anything, you know what right?” 
“I do, I promise. I just panicked. I thought I was going to lose you.” Your breathing had started to slow down and you felt like you had control over it again.
“Nope. You’re never getting rid of me. I love you too much for that,” He brought his face down to yours and brushed your noses together before wrapping his arms tightly around you. “And I missed you way too much to ever let go of you again.” 
“I love you too, Buck, so much.. but you’re squeezing me.” For the first time since you heard their conversation you had a real smile on your face and you laughed at him holding you so tight. You were happy. Bucky was happy. 
“There’s the laugh I missed so much. Oh and,” he pulled away just for a second to look into your eyes, placing each of his hands on your shoulders and with a serious voice spoke again, “don’t for one second think that’s how my real proposal will go, I’m gonna make it special, just like you deserve.” he pulls you into his arms and lays you both down.
“I can’t wait, but before you do that..”
“Mhmm?”
“Can we go to the shelter today? I think it’s about time we got that cat.”
“You have no idea how happy that makes me doll” 
Maybe it wasn’t healthy how much yours and Bucky’s happiness relied on each other but for you two it worked. Things were perfect. 
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Text
Let Me Help You
Pairing: Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Grumpy Sunshine Series
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You knew something was off with Bucky the moment he came home. He kept rubbing his left shoulder, a deep grimace on his face.
You asked him what was wrong and he brushed it off saying it was just a tough mission. You didn't want to push him, so you let it go. You curled into his side on the couch, reading a book as he played with your hair.
And then he winced. Once. Twice. You've just about had it when he winces again. For the third time.
You snap your book shut. "Alright, that's it!"
"What?"
"Take off your shirt," you order.
Bucky quirks an eyebrow, a smirk slightly tugging at the corner of his mouth, "Really?"
"What? No!" You playfully swat his chest. "You're obviously in pain!"
“Aw…” Bucky dismissively waves his hand at you. "It's not that bad."
"It's been bugging you since you got back."
"I just overdid it a little. I'm fine." Even as the words leave his mouth, you can tell he's fighting back another wince.
"It's hard to see you like this."
"It's fine."
"It's not fine!" you insist. "I know you don't like other people seeing your arm, and I know you've said no to trying physical therapy, so if you're not going to go ask for help then just let me try to help you. Please?"
He deeply sighs, but considering that even the small rise and fall of his shoulders is sending pain radiating all through his shoulder, he's pretty sure he does need your help. "Fine..."
Your fingers trail over the metal plate holding his arm in place. As you flip the release trigger, he grits his teeth, a huff of relief leaving his lips as the vibranium arm detaches from the joint.
"Baby..." Your voice wavers slightly. It makes you want to cry for him. "It's really swollen. This had to have been bothering you."
"I'm used to it," he grumbles.
Your heart clenches for him. That was the problem. He was used to it. Far too used to pain. Far too used to dealing with it on his own. "I'm gonna go grab you some ice."
You return with an ice pack in hand moments later. He hisses as the coolness presses against his scarred flesh.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," he nods. "Thank you."
"All I did was grab an ice pack."
He grabs your unoccupied hand, kissing your palm, "No, thank you for caring. Sometimes, I forget that I'm not alone anymore."
"You'll never be alone. Not as long as I'm here." You press a gentle, feather light kiss to his shoulder, "From now on, promise you'll tell me when your arm's bothering you?"
He hums as your hand gently kneads his shoulder blade, soothing away the radiating ache and pain, "I promise."
AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Grumpy Sunshine Series
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