Ok so I have a request, but bear with me because I can’t find the prompt list I had seen about it 😩
Basically it was about how in real life, things happen or go wrong during sex that make it more silly. There was a whole list of things that might happen, but I can only remember two of them. One was like someone being too ticklish and the other was body parts making weird noises. Hopefully you at least get the picture with those two examples 😂
I love the idea of sex being fun and silly sometimes and thought it would be really sweet with Bucky :)
18+ This is so cute. I love all of this so much. Awkward sex positions. Queefs.
You looked up at him with curious eyes, a devilish little smile flashed across your face as you went back for the same spot. Your lips nipped and teased his neck where he was most sensitive, making him squirm and wriggle under you.
"It tickles!!" He tucked his chin against his chest, his face flushed from smiling while you straddled him with an amused look on your face.
"I didn't know super soldiers were so ticklish" You grinned, poking his side, making him yelp. He grabbed you and flipped you over, trapping you under him.
"Mhm, and what about you baby" You squealed at the feeling of his beard rubbing in the crook of your neck, desperately trying to wiggle away from him while he held you down, laughing and nuzzling his face into your more. "Do I get to feel all of you now sweet girl"
He pulled away, resting his forehead on yours, his hard length pressed against your tummy, precum making a mess on your skin. You moaned softly, nodding and spreading your legs for him.
"Ow" Your face scrunched slightly, as he spread your legs a little further, your body not as warmed up and flexible as since it was still earlier in the day.
"Sorry sweets, you okay?" You hummed as he pulled your legs to wrap around his waist, pushing his cock into you slowly. "You feel perfect angel" He started off slow, feeling your body with his hands, smiling against your skin each time you clung onto him harder.
"Faster baby" You moaned, pulling him down to kiss his sweet lips, your arms draped around his shoulders. He pounded you against the mattress, his cock slamming in and out of you, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in.
"Come here baby" He pulled out of you, yanking you and bending you over the bed, stuffing his cock right back in you to fuck you from behind.
How you hated the switch from missionary to doggy.
You adored how Bucky could hit your exact spot, except it usually also came with him literally fucking air into you in the process. You blinked, groaning at the way your body just refused to cooperate while with each thrust, the sound that kept escaping your pussy wasn’t something that could be hidden.
With each thrust, he couldn’t help but snicker at the sound while admiring the soft flesh of your ass jiggle each time he pulled your hips back.
"Did you just laugh?!" You couldn't help but laugh yourself, your boyfriend trying to hold in his little giggles while giving you gentle thrusts.
"Can't help it baby" He shrugged, massaging your thighs, his mind now wandering to something else he had wanted to try for a while. "Can-can I fuck you against the wall?"
You blinked back him while he bit his lip, hoping you'd say yes. He was still learning about things he enjoyed during sex and you were the safest most loving person he had ever been with.
"Don't drop me Barnes" You nodded, standing up and padding over to a wall that wasn't near anything so you wouldn't knock anything over.
"I won't drop you" Bucky scoffed, you weighed nothing to him. It wasn't until you were in his arms did he realize it wasn't weight that was an issue and that there was an art to fucking one against the wall.
"How-how do i-" He grunted, lifting you with both arms, when realizing he wasn’t skilled enough just yet to put his dick in you without using his hand. He tried for a second, awkwardly rubbing his tip against your pussy while you held onto him for dear life, unable to understand how anyone enjoyed this position when it took so much effort.
“Is it in yet?”
“I would know if it was in Bucky”
“Damn right you would” Cocky bastard.
“Will you stop priding yourself in your dick size for a second and just use your hand to stick it in”
“Greedy now aren’t we”
“Barnes, just use your hand to put it in and fuck me”
Bucky snorted, managing to shift you so he held you up with his metal arm, lining his cock up with your entrance. He pushed into you, both of you gasping at the feeling as he filled you, both hands now gripping onto your ass and thighs.
Once he got into the rhythm, he couldn't help but lose himself, loving the way you moaned and fluttered around him, the soft thumps against the wall only spurring him on more. Now you understood why people loved this position.
"I'm gona-f-fuck I'm gonna cum" He moaned, his cock throbbing, fucking you faster, sweat beading at his forehead.
"Hold it, fuck keep going Bucky! Don’t stop-" You whined but it was too late, fuck you felt too good.
It was like a cum now button as soon as you told him don’t stop, keep going, his balls tightened against his body, cum bursting out of his cock, spilling his load into you.
"I-HNggg-FucK I’m cumming” He moaned, stilling his movements, panting while still holding you up. "Sorry" He blushed, smiling shy at you while you snorted, shaking your head.
"I told you to keep going!"
"Well, why do you feel so good" He rolled your eyes, carrying you over and dropping you onto the bed, throwing your thighs over his shoulders, pressing a sloppy kiss onto your soaked clit.
"Now hold still while I make you cum pretty girl"
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Hi, lovely! I'd like to request a one-shot if that's okay! I was thinking accidental kiss with Bucky x fem!reader, very fluffy <3 Thank youuuuuuuu
A/n: yayyyy my second Bucky fic of the weekend! having a lot of fun writing for him right now. hope it's fluffy enough for you anon! <3
Heights: Bucky Barnes X Fem!Reader
Warnings: none (not proofread)
Word Count: 3434
You took a sip of the champagne the waiter handed you, immediately noting how expensive it tasted.
“Really, Tony?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him and gesturing emphatically with your champagne flute. He gave you a comically sarcastic expression, feigning offense.
“What, like you’d expect anything less,” he jibed back, giving you an infuriating wink. You slapped him on the arm, but you weren’t able to keep from chuckling. He was right: it was exactly what you expected for a Tony Stark New Year’s Eve party. Decadent, lavish, effortlessly classy, and with the most star-studded guest list you could imagine.
“Play nice with my guests, y/n/n. Miss Potts seems to need my assistance at the bar.” Your eyes followed Tony’s across the room to where his assistant, Pepper, stood behind the bar, pouring a generous glass of whiskey for Thor as he shamelessly flirted with her. Pepper certainly didn’t seem to need any form of assistance, but you knew Tony was a jealous man, and you couldn’t blame him. Thor had traded his normally out-of-place Asgardian armor for a handsomely tailored gray suit. Even though he still didn’t quite pass as human, he wasn’t as godly-looking, and you didn’t doubt that Pepper was enjoying the view, much like you.
“Go get ‘em, tiger,” you replied playfully as you watched Tony vanish into the celebrating crowd, weaving through the admirers straight towards Pepper. You smiled softly as a surge of happiness for your friends flooded your body. You’d grown up with Tony, literally: your parents had babysat Tony whenever his parents were out of town, which, given their lavish lifestyle and Tony’s dad’s work for S.H.I.E.L.D., was quite often. And you were the one who had insisted that Tony hire Pepper. You saw in her the right combination of grounded, spunky, and bitingly intelligent that would tame Tony. And, you thought with a bit of smugness, you’d been right. Tony was saddled up and tamed, and Pepper hadn’t even broken a sweat doing it. She was an incredible woman and the perfect partner for your best friend.
“That champagne must be good,” a familiar voice said from behind you. Startled out of your daydream, you turned, smiling demurely when your eyes locked with Bucky’s. His hair, which was normally deliciously unkempt, had been smoothed somewhat for the occasion. Similar to Thor, you weren’t used to seeing Bucky without his fighting armor. He’d opted for a more understated look compared to the Asgardian, donning a dark blue suit jacket over a crisp white button down and jeans. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, and your mouth went dry as you caught sight of the notch at the top of his sternum.
Desperate to distract yourself, you furrowed a brow quizzically at Bucky. “What?” you replied, sounding somewhat dumb. He chuckled as he came to stand next to you, clinking his own flute with yours.
“Haven’t seen you smile like that in a long time,” he explained, any note of teasing dropped from his voice as his brown eyes drank you in. You felt a blush spread over your cheeks and down your neck. You dropped your eyes from his, unable to take the heat you felt from his gaze.
“You watch me smile a lot, do you then, Bucky?” you replied, your words a lot bolder than you felt. You took another generous sip of your champagne, grateful that Tony had shelled out for top-of-the-line booze. Seemed you would need all the liquid courage you could get.
“Not nearly as much as I’d like to,” Bucky replied, his voice dropping low and taking on a note of tenderness that made your toes curl. You tried to hold his gaze, but that damn blush was deepening, embarrassment pulling your eyes away. You began running a finger absentmindedly around the edge of your flute.
Sensing your nervousness, Bucky cocked his head somewhat, dipping down to meet your eyes.
“It’s warm in here, don’t you think?” he asked seriously. You nodded, swallowing thickly. He gave you a reassuring half-smile, jerking his head in the direction of Tony Stark’s penthouse balcony. “Let’s get some fresh air.”
Your heart tied up in knots at his suggestion. You were terrified of heights and you made it a point not to find yourself high up. Standing on a glass-bottomed balcony almost fifty floors above the New York City streets certainly wasn’t going to do anything but send you into a panic attack. You opened your mouth to say as much, but then you caught Bucky’s expression. He was gazing at you like you were the only person in the room, his eyes alight with happiness and hope. You’d had a soft spot for Bucky ever since you’d first met, and the feeling had only deepened the more time you spent with him. You suspected the feeling was mutual based on how often Steve Rogers casually tried to arrange alone time for the two of you, although there was almost always some sort of unexpected obstacle that prevented you and Bucky from being able to address your feelings head on. But now, you could see a forceful determination in Bucky’s expression that told you there wouldn’t be anymore running. How could you say no?
You nodded, your eyes wide in a mix of terror and nerves. Bucky’s face broke into a wide smile as he reached out and took your free hand, turning away from you and leading you towards the large, open windows that overlooked Tony’s balcony.
It was an unseasonably warm evening for December in New York, although the air still had a chill to it. When you stepped into the darkness, the sounds of the party dying behind you, your bare arms immediately puckered into goose pimples.
Bucky noticed immediately, stripping off his dark blue suit jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders as he led you closer to the edge of the balcony. You let him tuck the warm fabric over your bare shoulders, trying to force yourself to keep breathing and not look down. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears, your chest tightening slowly.
“Beautiful view, don’t you think?” Bucky asked aimlessly, although his eyes never left your face. You couldn’t bring yourself to look out towards the city, so you turned your gaze back towards the party. You were beginning to feel faint as your terror was increasing. You wished you had just told Bucky you were afraid of heights. Now that you were out here on the balcony, you didn’t know if you’d be able to get back inside. Your legs were beginning to lock up underneath you. All you could focus on - aside from the handsome man in front of you, completely unaware of your panic - was the feel of your high heels against the glass floor of Tony’s balcony.
“Y/n, are alright?” The note of concern in Bucky’s question told you that he’d caught on to your rising fear.
He squeezed your hand to mirror the question he’d asked you, the smile melting off his face as flirtatious happiness turned to worry.
“Bucky… I’m sorry, I think- I need to go… back inside,” you managed to pant out as your vision started to blur. In the next instant, your legs went to jelly and you felt yourself crumple. Your mind went blank halfway down, your consciousness hovering somewhere between awake and asleep for a few moments…
The first thing that came back to you was the feel of warm, strong hands running along your forehead and your cheeks. Next came the sound of concerned whispers all around you. Then, a voice you knew well, distant but growing louder: “Y/n? Y/n, talk to me. Are you ok?” There was a note of fear in that voice that ran through your body like a jolt.
Your consciousness fell back into your body quickly, your mind coming out of the fog of fainting. Your eyes flew open as your head jerked up instinctively. Had your reflexes been faster, you would have registered that Bucky’s face was mere inches above yours as he brushed your mussed hair away from your face. But in the confusion of surfacing from passing out, your instincts took over. As your head lifted up from the couch you’d found yourself on, your face almost collided with Bucky’s. You were barely a hair’s width from slamming teeth with him when your jittery body gained control of itself and you froze.
In the next instant, you felt one of Bucky’s hands gently cup the base of your head, closing the distance between the two of you and connecting your lips.
Still flustered and fuzzy from passing out, you didn’t know how to react. Your heart felt like it was about to climb out of your chest, and you couldn’t tell if the adrenaline surge in your blood was the lingering effects of the panic that had taken you over on the balcony or the result of Bucky’s kiss.
His lips were soft and warm against yours, but you didn’t notice that fast enough. He held his lips against yours for a little more than a heartbeat, as if testing you. With your mind moving in a million directions, you didn’t register the question in his gesture fast enough. He pulled back from you, your lips separating and his eyes ducking down in embarrassment as you heard Tony’s voice break the crowd.
“Where is she? Y/n, are you alright? What happened?” You were on the edge of reaching out to grab Bucky and pull him back towards you when Tony jostled Bucky out of the way. Tony was like a bull in a china shop, and you doubted that he even noticed what had just transpired between you and the Winter Soldier. He barreled in between you, Bucky’s hands sliding off of you and leaving you yearning for his touch as he slipped into the crowd. Tony ran a hand over your forehead, mussing over you like a protective mother.
“You’re clammy, Y/n. What the hell happened?” The all-consuming nature of Tony’s presence tore your mind reluctantly away from Bucky as your focus settled on Tony’s question.
“The balcony… I went out on the balcony,” you mumbled sheepishly as Tony waved away the onlookers with frustration. From across the room, you heard the four piece band Tony had hired for the occasion strike up. With the music beckoning people back to their merriment, the crowd of worried bystanders began to dissolve around you, the sound of idle chatter and tinkling glasses rising back to a comfortable volume.
“The balcony?” Tony was looking at you incredulously. He knew of your fear of heights. He’d been there the day you’d first developed your fear at the age of 6, stuck high up in a tree with a quaking, cracking branch threatening to give out under your weight.
“What on earth brought you out there…” Tony’s question trailed off as his eyes snapped to the jacket still wrapped around your shoulders. Bucky’s jacket.
Tony’s face went dark in an instant, the protective best friend contorting his features as his eyes combed the crowd, looking for the Winter Soldier. Ever since Tony had learned of Bucky’s role in his parents’ death, his normal goodwill had dissolved into raw, vengeful rage. It had only been for your and Steve’s sake that Tony had made a very tenuous, strained peace with Bucky.
“Tony, please don’t,” you begged, putting a hand on his arm and squeezing, forcing Tony’s eyes back to you. “He didn’t know, Tony. And I didn’t tell him.”
Tony looked at you intensely, his nostrils flaring as he tried to regain control of his anger.
“Tony, please don’t do this,” you continued, your voice growing stronger as your mind came back to clarity. The last remnants of your panic-induced pass out were fading, and now all you were left with was burning humiliation and a dying desire to find Bucky. But first, you had to talk Tony off the edge.
“For me.” You winked at Tony as you said it, shooting him a knowing smile.
Most people who knew Tony Stark wouldn’t dare tease him when he was in a rage, but you and Pepper were the only ones who knew exactly how to pierce his defenses. It was the comfort that comes with a lifelong friendship that emboldened you to turn an otherwise serious moment into a jest. Part of you wondered if it would backfire on you, but when Tony snorted and let his shoulders relax, shaking his head softly, you knew your comment had hit its mark.
“You’re a lovesick puppy, you know that,” he replied, the edges of his words still hot with fading anger but the danger passed.
“I know,” you agreed, relieved that you hadn’t unintentionally incited a fight at Tony’s party.
“You better go track him down,” Tony instructed as he stood up, holding out a hand for you. You took it gratefully, letting Tony help you up off the couch that Bucky must have put you down on. As you considered how you’d wound up moving from the balcony to the couch towards the back of Tony’s penthouse, you realized that Bucky must have carried you there. The thought increased your restless need to find him.
You nodded in vague agreement with Tony as your eyes ran over the crowd, trying to find Bucky in the sea of faces.
“He went that way,” Tony mumbled, pointing towards a dimly lit hallway that led back to Tony’s lab. Bruce and Natalie were leaning against the wall next to the hallway, serving as casual guards who would intercept any unwitting guests who tried to stumble in that direction. They’d let you pass, just like they’d let Bucky pass, since you were both members of the Avengers.
Without a second thought, you let your feet carry you towards the hall. Behind you, you heard Tony scoff slightly and say something smart, but your mind was too focused to let his comment stick. You waved vaguely behind you as if to swipe his retort aside, earning a louder “Thank me later!” from your friend.
As you marched past Bruce and Natalie, you caught the former’s eye as you quirked an eyebrow at him. Bruce nodded, already sensing your question. You breezed past him and Natalie, idly noting how close they stood together, their heads bowed together as they whispered conspiratorially and with a hint of flirtatiousness. The sight made you happy for Nat and Bruce, and it increased your itch to find Bucky.
The party noise faded behind you as you walked down the hallway.
“Bucky?” you called out hesitantly as you entered Tony’s lab, closing the door quietly behind you. With the door shut, you were enveloped in quiet. You hadn’t noticed how loud the party was until you noted the faint buzzing in your ears.
Tony’s lab was dim, but you could see a faint glow from the floor below towards where the guest rooms were. Many of the Avengers called Tony’s penthouse home from time to time, thanks to a well-appointed guest wing, complete with a spacious sitting room. Tony’s lab opened onto that sitting room from the second floor. You let your feet carry you towards the light, conscious of how noisy your steps were.
“Bucky?” you called out again, wondering for the first time since you’d decided to try and find him if maybe he didn’t want to be found.
“Here.” Bucky’s reply was neutral; neither warm and inviting nor irritable and defensive.
“Are you alright?” you asked cautiously as you climbed down the small set of stairs that connected Tony’s lab to the common area. Bucky was sitting on a couch, a reading lamp turned on beside him, his back to you. His hair looked messier than it had at the party: he’d been running his hands through it, you realized, a tic you’d noticed in him when he was nervous.
In reply, he scoffed, almost bitterly. “Am I alright? Y/n, I should be the one asking you that.” He turned to face you, rising from the couch as he did. The relaxed, happy smile he’d worn at the party had vanished, leaving his face contorted into something that looked almost like pain.
You were so distracted by his expression that you barely processed his words.
“I’m fine, it’s no big thing,” you reassured him quickly, faltering now that you were within reach of him. You wanted to rush to him, bury yourself in his arms, and let him kiss you for real this time, not the accidental mess that had happened a few minutes prior. But you couldn’t get a read on how he’d respond, his body tense and his lips pursed.
“I should have remembered you’re afraid of heights, I never should have asked you to go out on the balcony, that was incredibly selfish and stupid of me.” His words started coming fast and furious, each syllable seeming to screw him up into a tighter state of discomfort. It took you a moment to read his emotions, but when you realized he was angry at himself, you reacted on instinct.
Letting out a shaky exhale, you stepped towards him, grasping his hands in yours and running your thumbs on the back of his palms.
Bucky’s words died on his lips as your eyes met. You smiled gently at him, hoping he could read in your expression that you weren’t interested in an apology.
“We kissed. Back there,” you managed to stammer out. It wasn’t very graceful, and you felt a little childish saying it, but between the smell of Bucky’s cologne and the way the lamplight cast half his handsome face in mysterious shadow, it was the best you could manage.
“Well… yeah, I guess we did,” he admitted sheepishly. Your smile deepened when you heard the same nervousness in his voice that you felt. You shouldn’t have been so surprised to see confirmation of his feelings for you, but it felt good and calmed your fears of rejection nonetheless. For the first time since you two had started this dance, you were about to name everything that had gone unsaid between you.
“It’s not exactly what I’d dreamed of for our first kiss, but at least it’s a good story.” You waited for Bucky to respond, wondering if he’d take the bait. He seemed frozen, chewing on his lower lip and trying to hold your gaze. Both of you breathed a little harder in the silence that followed. You moved a half step closer to him, close enough now to feel his breath on your cheeks. He was watching you, wide eyed, as if trying to pinch himself awake from a dream.
“Why don’t we try it again, Mr. Barnes?” you asked quietly, using a pet name you’d taken to calling him when you two were alone.
Something about the nickname broke whatever dam had been holding him back. Bucky’s hands tangled in your hair quickly and needily, his mouth closing the space between you. This time, when his lips met yours, you were ready. You returned his kiss, matching the rhythm and pressure easily, you two falling into a well-choreographed embrace as if you’d done this a thousand times before.
You couldn’t say how long you stayed like that, lips connected, enjoying the moment that both of you had skirted around for so many months. You let your hands roam up his arms and twine around his shoulders as he gripped your lower back, pulling your bodies flush against one another while his tongue teased at your lips. There was a deeper heat beginning to take root in both your minds, but for the moment, the kiss was enough. There would be plenty of time for the rest later.
You were certain that neither of you were prepared to stop, but the sound of someone clearing their throat from the lab broke your moment. You pulled your faces away just enough to turn towards the sound, neither of you willing to break apart from how your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces.
Steve was leaning against the wall framing Tony’s lab, a smug, self-gratified smile on his lips.
“I told you the balcony was a good idea,” Steve said, winking at his friend before he turned back towards the party, leaving you and Bucky to ring in the New Year by yourselves…
– summary: "You had done a lot of fucked up shit in your life, but fucking your dad’s best pal and falling in love with him by far took the cake."
– warnings: 18+, age gap (significant), dad's best friend!bucky, stalking, being followed, etc.
– a/n: something new + fun I’m trying out hehe <3
You sat alone, an empty brown leather barstool beside you that should’ve been occupied by a brooding man with sapphire eyes. Staring into them had become your new routine and when you weren’t looking up at them, lying beneath him, you were thinking about how the shades of blue that littered the sunset matched the hues of his irises. Moving your hands, you grabbed your coat off the back of your chair before sliding it on and pulling your hair out from underneath the collar; downing the gin and tonic in front of you and slipping out of the front door of the whole in the wall bar you previously been occupying. The click-clack of your heels on the pavement is all that your tipsy brain could focus on as you started your journey home, the cobblestones of Brooklyn loud under your feet. You trekked on for a while seemingly unaware of your surroundings until a large dark shadow appeared in the glow of the street lights on the stones you walked on. Had you not been tipsy, maybe you would’ve heard the second set of feet much sooner. You quickened your pace, doing your best to calm your breathing before pulling your phone discreetly out of your front pocket and dialing his number, knowing that he was in the company of your father. You had done a lot of fucked up shit in your life, but fucking your dad’s best pal and falling in love with him by far took the cake. At this moment, however, none of that mattered. He was the only one who felt safe enough to dial and you didn’t care who he was with. It rang for what felt like forever until his gruff voice met your ears in holy matrimony.
“Hey, pretty girl.”
He uttered the words that you had heard a thousand times in a thousand greetings, they still melted you; warmth spreading over your limbs like the first hot air hitting your face as you retreated inside from the snow.
“Buck, I’m in trouble.”
The hair on the back of his neck stood as the tremble in your voice.
“You’re okay, sweetheart. What’s the matter?”
He queried, knowing it had to be important for you to call him at this dinner party, especially when he was in the company of the person the both of you were trying to protect from your forbidden romance.
“I’m being followed, Buck.”
You whispered, the stranger gaining on you, a distance no longer between you.
“Where are you, baby?”
He asked with panic stricken features.
“The corner of Cornelia, right by my apartment.”
You whispered back into the phone.
“Go into the store on the corner, sweetheart. Wait for me there, I’m coming.”
He said with a soft but stern tone. You only muttered an ‘okay,’ his face and hug the only thing you needed to feel safe again.
“Hurry, Buck. I’m scared.”
You replied and his chest almost caved in at the sound of you so distraught.
“Hold tight, baby. I’m coming.”
Title: ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴜꜱ 
Pairing: Rockstar!Bucky Barnes x Reader
series masterlist || series playlist || chapter song
Summary: Drowning in women and designer drugs, Bucky Barnes of Valkyrie’s Revenge is in a race to rock bottom. Fed up, his bandmates give him an ultimatum—straighten up, or fuck off. In a last, desperate bid to maintain his place, he agrees to return to the one place he swore he’d never set foot again—home.
Warnings: Angst, Drug Addiction, Mental Health issues, Toxicity, Recreational Drug use, Hard drug use, PTSD, Dealing with trauma, Slow Burn, Fluff, MINORS DNI, [More to be added]
A/N: another installment down! i’m really eager to hear what folks are thinking and feeling, so please don’t hesitate to hit my inbox with comments or questions! divider by @firefly-graphics
series playlist || chapter song
This work is entirely unbeta’d, and unedited. Though I don’t own any of Marvel’s characters, this work and the plot contained inside are entirely mine. I do not consent for this work to be posted anywhere else by anyone but me. Enjoy 😘
You don’t sleep until the sky starts to turn from deep purple to pink at the edges, waiting for your phone to ring, or the doorbell, or a fierce knock—but nothing comes. You begin to slip down into slumber as the dawn stretches bright fingers up the faded wallpaper of your bedroom, and your anxieties follow you in.
You’re in the car. Why are you in the car? The window is cool to the touch beneath your fingers—it’s winter. It was winter. Maybe here it always is. Someone squeezes your hand—Bucky, you know it without looking. You know him so well that even the guitar callouses on his fingertips are as known to you as the folded pages of your favorite book.
You stroke your thumb over the creases in his skin. They are the familiar lines of a map you have learned down to the letter—every scar recorded to memory.
Why are you in the car? Rebecca is there too, her face blurred in the mirror as she leans over to whisper something to Bucky’s mother. You can’t hear her, like she’s speaking from under water.
“You think you’ll ever come back here? When you get famous?” You know how this goes, you remember this part—
“When we get famous, you mean.” The world tilts on its head and suddenly you are standing in the rain on the shoulder of the road, staring at the smoking, twisted metal—
Your eyes are slow to open, like your body doesn’t actually want start moving again so soon after falling asleep. Iris is perched on the edge of your bed, her wide gray eyes searching your face.
“Hey, sweetheart. I’m sorry,” you sit up onto your elbows with a huff. “I didn’t mean to sleep so late.” You hadn’t slept at all, really, but your daughter doesn’t need to know that. “Were you up long without me?” She shakes her head.
“No.” She looks so much like Bucky as she cocks her head at you, her eyebrow lifting ever so slightly as she regards you. It’s almost laughable how many of his mannerisms she’s seems to have inherited despite never being around him, how much of him is in her.
Iris crawls up to the head of the bed and scoots underneath the blanket with a little sigh. You wrap your arms around your daughter, pressing a tired kiss to her forehead.
“You sleep okay? Any bad dreams?”
“No. I was a mermaid in my dream.” Iris replies seriously.
“Oh? Did you see anything cool down there under the ocean?” As she begins describing the intricacies of her subconscious, you start trying to ready yourself for the day. It’s Saturday—one of your only full days off. Generally, your off time consists of taking Iris to absorb what little culture Meridian and the surrounding counties have to offer, but today, you’re dragging.
You haven’t dreamed about the crash since after Iris was two, but you know you shouldn’t be surprised by it’s reoccurrence, not really. The past has a way of biting your ass when you least expect it, your grandmother had said that to you when you were young, and you found it still held true. First Bucky, then Steve—it had been bound to happen sooner or later.
You can’t stop thinking about it as you slide out of bed, only managing to half listen to Iris as she describes the flavor of kelp ice cream to you over freezer waffles.
Following Bucky back from the softball game, riding in Steve’s truck because Winnie’s tire blew out on her sedan—Bucky was going to go back and pick it up later with the spare from the garage.
Kissing him and telling him you’d see him at home, that you loved him.
Watching the drunk driver plow headfirst into Bucky’s truck.
Bucky pulling his mother and sister from the wreckage, and screaming, so much screaming—
“You’re sad today, mommy.” Your head snaps up, your fingers loosening on your fork in your shock. It clatters against the plate, but Iris doesn’t blink. “I can tell.”
So fucking much like her dad.
“I guess I am,” you say after a moment.
You’re not sure what to say—you certainly can’t tell her that you’re thinking about the crash. The one almost exactly a year before she was born. You can’t tell her that that’s when everything fell apart, when Declan Forge’s truck jumped the divider and slammed full speed into Bucky’s Dodge.
But you don’t want to lie to her either.
“Something… bad happened, just before I found out I was pregnant with you. There was an accident, and some people I was very close to passed away.” Iris knows what death is; you’ve never shied away from some of the harsher truths, but this one is still hard for you to stomach. Iris looks like she’s thinking hard, her little brows scrunched up as her nose wrinkles.
“I’m sorry you’re sad, mommy.” Your chest goes painfully tight when she places her little hand on your cheek. “You shouldn’t have to be sad.” There’s a simple, childish wisdom in her words that makes you want to protect her, keep Iris just like this forever—but the concern written in the lines of her little face tells you otherwise.
You wipe at your tear filled eyes, fixing Iris with a soft smile. “Thanks, kiddo.”
You bundle Iris into the shower as she talks a mile a minute. There’s barely enough time to answer one of her questions before she’s firing off others, each thought biting the tail of the next as they rush to get to her mouth.
“Are we going to the center today, mommy?” She asks as you towel her off. “Miss Kitty said there’s berry picking today.”
Truth be told, you don’t want to spend any more time at the community center than you have to, these days—especially now that Bucky practically lives there. You’re bound to run into him—Meridian is smaller than a goddamn speck—but you don’t want to do it more than you have to. If Steve is already noticing the uncanny likeness between your daughter and his best friend, you don’t want to add more opportunities for Bucky to do the same.
“Wouldn’t you rather go to the park?” You suggest, but Iris shakes her head. “Or maybe the library? Or we could go see—”
“Mommy, I want to see my friends at the center,” she whines, scuffing her foot against the bathroom tile. “Please?” You can’t deny her trembling lip and wide eyes, and you heave a sigh as you draw the wide toothed comb through her hair.
“Sure, sweetheart. We’ll go see your friends at the center.”
Steve’s house is better than the studio apartment Tony had rented in his name, Bucky’s grateful for that. Waking up from the withdrawal induced nightmares to stare at the creepy painting of cherubs by his bedside was driving him crazier than the cravings. And now, there’s more than one place to sit around all day parsing out what a piece of shit he is—there are options; the kitchen, the porch, the living room, the den; all laid out for his choosing pleasure.
Bucky is currently parked on the porch, smoking what he thinks is either his fifth or eighth cigarette of the morning—he can’t remember. He’d been up early enough to watch the sun rise over the old warehouses in the distance, stretching golden fingers through the streets until it passed beyond the dead-end cul-de-sac where Steve’s mother used to live.
He’d missed that funeral, too. Bucky tries to recall where he was when Sarah died, tried to dredge up the memories—but they’re too cloudy for him to sort through. What a good friend, he thinks sourly, shaking either his sixth or ninth cigarette loose from the carton. Don’t even remember when my best friend’s mom kicked the bucket.
“Hey.” Steve’s voice makes Bucky turn, squinting in the bright morning sun. “You’re up early.” Bucky appreciates that Steve doesn’t comment on the fact that Bucky’s always awake, knees trembling as he picks the cuticles on his hands down to the quick.
Steve sits down beside him, shaking his head when Bucky offers him a cigarette. He’s not sure when Steve quit smoking, another memory lost to the shuffle.
“You going down to the center today?” Steve asks, and Bucky’s lip curls as he exhales smoke. He doesn’t much fancy going down there to wallow in self pity and regret. Easier just to do it here, where there isn’t anyone to ask him how he’s processing it all.
“If I said no would you make me go anyway?” He asks, and Steve actually laughs.
��“Probably wouldn’t be too hard,” he replies with a chuckle. “You’re skinny as shit.”
When they get to the center, Kitty is already there and going strong. She gets an almost religious fervor about herself as she speaks, her eyes bright as her lips move impossibly quickly. It reminds Bucky of what it was like on stage, the crowd’s attention and devotion like a steady morphine drip. He wonders if that’s Kitty’s addiction—being the center of attention.
“We talked about rock bottom last meeting,” she says, clapping her hands. “Now I want to talk about moving up. I want to talk about moving forward.”
No forward for you, the demon mutters. Just under. Six feet, right?
“Obviously today’s session isn’t mandatory, but it’s still useful. We’re going to give back to our community today, the community that has held us through these tough times.” Bucky’s not sure which community she’s talking about, considering that most of the folks inhabiting Meridian are no better than rabid dogs, but he keeps that little thought to himself.
“There’s a local business in need of a little assistance, they’re short staffed this quarter, and we’re going to assist! Isn’t that wonderful?” Bucky wants to shake his head, but refrains from doing so—barely. “Raul’s Berry Farm, out north on 49.”
Kitty’s rented a van for today’s excursion, but Steve volunteers to drive him, which Bucky is thankful for. He’s not really sure how many more “uplifting” and “inspirational” stories he can handle. He gets back into Steve’s pickup, leaning his head back against the headrest. Steve pulls out into traffic, following the van. His fingers drum nervously against the wheel, tapping out an anxious rhythm Bucky’s not even sure he notices. Steve’s always been fidgety when he’s nervous, though, ever since they were little.
“What?” Bucky asks, and Steve turns to look at him like he has three heads. Bucky gestures at Steve’s fingers, tap-dancing across the dashboard. “What’s the problem?”
Steve shrugs. “Nothing.”
“You always were a shit liar.”
Steve scowls at him. “It’s nothing, Buck. Seriously.”
The berry farm is a Meridian institution, one of the local businesses that had been around since before the town was a town. Bucky doesn’t think that’s a particularly impressive resume, but he knows better than to mention it when he hops out of Steve’s pickup and down into the dusty parking lot. Kitty gestures for everyone to circle in, clapping her hands excitedly.
“Alright everyone. We’ve got some little helpers here today too,” she points at a short yellow school bus that Bucky assumes also came from the community center. “I think we all know how important it is in the process to make amends not only to ourselves but to our community!”
Can’t make amends to people who are dead though, can you?
Bucky picks up his five gallon bucket and starts down a line of blueberry bushes. He pops a few into his mouth, tart sweetness bursting over his tongue. He doesn’t wait for Kitty to deliver instructions—after all, how much directing could they possibly need to pick berries? The smell of the hot sun, the laughter of the children racing up and down the rows—it’s nostalgic. Bucky had been here many times himself on school field trips, the farm being one of the only “historic” locations within forty-five minutes of Meridian.
A group of children rounds the corner, flying down the dirt path at top speed. One of them crashes into his legs, and then lands back on the ground with a soft oof.
“Easy, kid.” Bucky reaches down to help her up, and his heart leaps into his throat when Iris beams at him.
“Hi, Mr. Bucky!” Her wide smile is missing a couple of teeth. “I’m sorry I runned into you.”
“That’s okay.” He glances around, looking for you, but he doesn’t see you. “Where’s, um. Where’s your mom?” She cocks her head at him.
“She’s talking with Miss Kitty.” Iris points back towards the parking lot, and then makes a face. “Grown-up stuff.” She looks so much like you, wrinkling her little nose with distaste the same way you do. He can’t help but wonder who you’d found after him, who had tried to help you pick up the pieces because Bucky wouldn’t.
And perhaps that’s the worst part of all, that when he’d broken you, he expected you to stay that way. But you hadn’t. You’ve moved on, you’ve grown, while Bucky is stuck in the same mud pit, nursing the same old wounds. Or maybe he isn’t nursing them at all, just tearing them open again and again because he knows he doesn’t deserve peace.
If he did, he’d be in the ground same as Beccs.
“Do you, um. Do you like blueberries?” Bucky asks lamely. He doesn’t know how to talk to kids, not really. Iris looks around conspiratorially, before gesturing for him to lean in close.
“They’re mommy’s favorite,” she stage whispers, and Bucky nods. He remembers that, at least. “She’s sad today. If I bring her something she likes, maybe she’ll be happy again.” Iris says resolutely, secure in the soundness of her childish reasoning. It makes Bucky’s heart ache a little, though he isn’t sure why. “Can you help me?”
Bucky rubs the back of his neck. He knows you probably don’t want him anywhere near your kid. He looks around, searching for you, but he doesn’t see you.
“I dunno, kid, I mean… your mom, she…” Bucky stops, unsure of what to say. He can’t exactly tell a six year old that he’d nuked their relationship, can he?
“I guess I could… help you get a few.” She chatters aimlessly at him, and Bucky struggles to keep up and respond to every loose thought that seems to fly from her little mouth up to his ears. Iris is so much like you—and it isn’t just the fact that in more than a few ways, she could be your twin. She reminds him of you before.
His fingers are stained purple by the time Iris’ bucket is even a quarter of the way full. Bucky can’t believe he even remembers how to do this, gripping the soft fruit gingerly and twisting it off of the vine. Iris’ mouth and hands are purple too, though that’s more from eating than picking. She stands up away from the bucket and waves at someone Bucky can’t see, crouched underneath the thorny vines the way he is.
“Hi mommy!” He pulls hurriedly away from the bush, wincing as one of the thorns catches his finger. You look less than pleased, but not angry. Panicked might be a better way to describe your tight expression, the frantic way your eyes move back and forth between Bucky and Iris.
“Hey, sweetheart. I was looking for you,” you reply. The weak smile on your features grows strained. “Hello Bucky.”
“Mr. Bucky helped me get lots of berries, mommy, see?” Iris reaches indigo stained fingers into the bucket, and lets a handful of berries fall through her tiny fingers like gold coins. “Lots!”
“Woah! That’s so many,” you agree, placing your hands on your knees as you bend over to peer into her bucket. “I thought maybe we could head out, sweet pea. Maybe go for dinner? My friend made reservations for us somewhere special.”
“Is it Andy?” Iris replies, her nose wrinkling again. “I don’t like him, mommy.”
Who the fuck is Andy? The live-wire of jealousy that flares to life within him is neither logical nor fair. It’s the same one that had sparked when he’d found out you’d gotten pregnant, moved on, had an entire life without him while he was drowning in pills. But you like pills. The demon’s sly whisper makes him wince. More than anything.
“Okay. Well, why don’t we talk about that in the car, hmm? You should go say goodbye to your friends.”
“I don’t want to,” Iris whines. “I don’t want to go to dinner, I want to stay and—” You crouch down in front of Iris, grasping her hands in yours.
“I know, sweetheart. I know you’re frustrated because you want to stay and play, but it’s time to go. But you’ll see all your friends next week after school, won’t that be fun?” Iris’ pout is gut wrenching, her little lip poking out and trembling as she stares at you with watery eyes.
“Okay.” She scuffs her foot against the dirt, kicking up a few pebbles. You massage your temples as you watch her go.
“Sorry about that. I hope she wasn’t too much trouble.” You stuff your hands into the pockets of your jeans, making small talk.
“No, no. She’s, um. She’s great.” Bucky says, shaking his head. “So… Andy.” He can’t help the bitter tinge that colors his words, he can only hope you don’t taste it too. Your jaw tightens at the mention of his name, and you blow out a breath. “The um. The police guy.”
“Yeah.” You look away. “He’s nice.”
“I didn’t think badges were your type.” He scoffs.
“What would you know about my type?” You fire back, hackles already up. Bucky’s lips draw into a thin scowl, and he opens his mouth to loose more venom, but stops, and deflates.
“Nothing, I guess.” He says after a moment, shrugging. He attempts to steer the conversation back into safer waters. “Your kid, she’s, um. She’s really something.”
“Yeah.” You hook your thumbs through the belt-loops of your jeans. “Even if she does announce my business to the world.” Bucky laughs at that.
“That’s what they’re for, right?” He says, and for the first time since he’s been back you really smile at him. Bright and wide and beautiful, like you used to. His chest goes tight. “Looks just like you.”
You shake your head, laughing. “She…” You hesitate, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as the two of you watch her gesticulating enthusiastically at another group of kids her age. “She looks like her dad.” It hangs in the air uncomfortably between you. He wants to ask. He wants to ask so badly, but he knows it’ll just make you throw up another wall. He wonders how many you’ve built just because of him.
“I didn’t know they would put you guys to work like this,” you say quickly, as though forcing more words out will cover up the ones that went before. “Is that legal?” Your stiff joke lands, and the corners of Bucky’s mouth turn up.
“I don’t know. Probably not. Pretty sure there’s hazardous chemicals in the sheds that we could use for nefarious purposes.” For a moment the two of you are laughing together, and Bucky feels the clock rewind—and then it’s over, dirt crunching under Iris’ sneakers as she approaches.
“Okay mom,” she says decisively. “We can go.”
“Oh, well, thank you very much,” you reply, shaking your head a little. You glance at Bucky over your shoulder. “I guess I’ll, um. See you. Around.”
“Yeah.” Iris looks back at him too, giving him a wide smile. She tugs her hand out of yours and jogs back over to him, reaching conspiratorially into her pocket.
“I saved you some,” she says, and then holds a purple stained finger over her mouth. “Don’t tell, okay?”
“Okay,” Bucky whispers back, nodding seriously. “I won’t tell.” The berries are a little squished and hot from the heat of her palm, and they stain his fingers with fresh purple juice. He watches you go, Iris bouncing excitedly beside you as—Bucky grimaces. He remembers Andy well enough, his manicured beard and sharply pressed uniform hard to miss. Bucky gets a perverse sort of pleasure watching Iris’ lukewarm greeting, and the way you turn your face so that he gets your cheek when he drops his head for a kiss.
At least he knew Andy wasn’t Iris’ father. That would have been a much harder pill for him to swallow, and all the more distasteful. Who is her father? The question plagues him as they head back to the community center. It’s like a rock in his shoe, impossible to ignore no matter how many times he shifts it’s position. There are other rocks too, ones that make him narrow his eyes as he stares out the window at the passing countryside. Iris’ allergy, her age…
He supposed he had been trying not to think about it, the thought playing at the edges of his conscious mind. Mainly because it would be unthinkable—you’d agreed, both of you had agreed that you would get an abortion.
So Iris couldn’t be his.
What if she didn’t? The oily smooth voice at the back of his mind whispers. What if she didn’t?
Steve’s pickup rumbles into the driveway, and Bucky sits in it vacantly for a few minutes after Steve hops out. The thought eats at him, won’t leave him alone.
“Buck, you’re pacing.” Steve comments from the doorway of his room. “I can hear you downstairs.” Bucky scrubs a hand down his face.
“I’m sorry.” He perches on the edge of the bed, his hand tapping nervously against his knee. “I just, I can’t stop thinking, you know?” Usually he has the pills to help with that, to dull the anxious turning of his mind. But now, he has nothing.
“Yeah?” Steve moves to sit beside him. “What about?”
“About Jellybean, and the kid, and fuck, what if it’s mine? And I never fucking knew this whole goddamn time? That would fucking serve me right, wouldn’t it?” Bucky barks out a humorless laugh. He looks at Steve, waiting for him to say something, anything. “Right? I mean it’s not possible, right? It-It’s not.”
It’s so silent, Bucky reckons he could hear a pin drop. For once he’s thankful to be out of the haze, because it lets the puzzle pieces slide together almost disgustingly easily. His face contorts as he jumps up, away from Steve.
“Oh my God.” He presses the heels of his palms into his closed eyes as he shakes his head. “You fucking knew.” Steve holds his hands out placatingly.
“Buck.” He reaches out to place a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, but he shoves him away.
“No, you shut the fuck up,” Bucky says, shaking his head disbelievingly. “You fucking knew.” His voice cracks, just a little.
“She asked me not to say anything. I swear, I didn’t know before we got back—” Bucky’s already running down the stairs, the sound of his pulse roaring in his ears blocking out the sound of Steve frantically shouting his name. He doesn’t realize he’s leaving the house until he’s already outside, rapidly fleeing into the coming evening before Steve has a chance to follow.
I have a daughter.
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masterlist | req masterlist
And It Breaks My Heart by @jhangelface0523
Soon enough every trace of you ever being in Bucky’s live will be gone, and you with it. And there is nothing he can change about that…
Voicemails to an Unmanned Inbox by @pellucid-constellations
When Bucky takes an argument a little too far, you take off. All he wants is for you to come back home.
this isn’t a love song | how it was by @traitorjoelite
your life with bucky was perfect, so full of happiness and love. and then one day it wasn't.
when it all falls apart by @bucky-bucket-barnes
The fate of the universe was in your hands. Bucky and you had been sent to retrieve the soul stone, a seemingly simple task. Unbeknownst to you, there was a hefty price to pay for such an exchange. You’re able to return to Earth, but it’s soon apparent part of you was left in Vormir.
Together, Forever by @moonbeambucky
You’re abducted during a mission with a bomb counting down. Will The Avengers find you before time is up?
Promise by @nastybuckybarnes
Bucky has never broken a promise. Until now.
They Stole Her From Me by @bucky--b4rnes
Being in a relationship and being an Avenger do not always work out.
Save Me From Myself by @captain-rogers-beard (series)
You are being hunted by HYDRA and Bucky has been tasked with keeping you safe. Problem is, the two of you have a history.
An Unforgettable Love by @thighs-of-betrayal-blog
Bucky was never snapped away by Thanos. Instead, he ended up going back in time with Steve and Tony and seeing you, the love of his life that he lost after being drafted in the war.
One Last Mission by @metalbuckaroo
Bucky resigns after he's finally happy, Steve promises to bring him back from one last mission
You’ll always be with me by @chrisdrysdale
Some of your’s and Bucky’s best moments as he slowly slips away.
the last goodbye by @insomniumstella
y/n has to leave Bucky, so as a way of saying goodbye, she writes a letter.
my own worst enemy by @auroracalisto
bucky and the reader have been engaged for some time now. they have an apartment, and they plan on spending the rest of their lives together. however, one night, it all turns sour. bucky becomes the winter soldier once more, and everything goes to shit.
every dream gone by @intrepidacious
After the events of Winter Soldier, Bucky slowly realizes just how much he lost after his fall.
Grown so Cold by @buckychrist
You were the ray of light at the end of the dark tunnel that was Bucky’s life. The warmth on his winter days. The only sense of normalcy he had. And maybe that was his downfall.
Ask for a rec <3
For the fur babies-B.B.
DON’T STEAL, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY STUFF!!!!
a/n- Please like, comment, and reblog!!!
Summary: Bucky has to dog sit your dog for you for a few days, and he’s not too fond of the four legged creatures. He really only likes cats, and he’s…dare he admit it, a little scared of dogs. But he’ll do anything for you, his pretty neighbor, his beautiful friend who he wishes were more than just a friend. Requested!
Warnings n stuff: 18+, neighbor!bucky, female!reader, fluff, mutual pinning, mentions of pregnancy and dilation, pet names: doll, dollface, nothing much else. Just really fluffy and cute:) WC: 2.7k+
All mistakes within this fic are my own!!!
Do not read or interact(with this post, any posts, or my blogs) if you’re under 18!!!
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“I promise it’s just for a few days. She won’t be a problem, Bucky.” You talk fast as you pack a bag, your flight to leave is in an hour. “Please!? Please just….a few days like I said! I promise. I’ll even pay you, I’ll watch Alpine….whatever you want!” “I’m not much of a dog person, doll…how big is this thing anyways?” You huff out at Bucky as you pause what you’re doing and roll your eyes, “her name is Lilith! Don’t you dare call her a thing!!” You say before you rush to the bathroom and put Bucky on speaker to start getting ready.
“Okay okay, sorry. Lilith. You promise she’s not aggressive?” “She’s the sweetest girl in the world.” You tell Bucky before brushing your teeth, washing your face and then doing something quick to your hair. You then gather your beauty items and hygiene things and stuff them into a small bag. “Please? My sister….she’s having her baby Bucky….i just need a few days. Lilith’s really good with cats! Maybe Alpine and her will get along!” You suggest before you go back to your bed and zip all of your bags up, then you slip on some sweat pants and a hoodie.
You hear Bucky sigh, and you already know he’s caved in. “Can’t say no to you, doll.” “Thank you Bucky!!! Just walk her a few times a day so she can use the potty, and feed her once a day around dinner time, treats are okay too, are you writing this- ouch!! Are you writing this down??” You ask, slightly out of breath from trying to tug your shoes on, and your nail got hung in the process. You hear him chuckle, “yes I am…” “Good! Uh….oh!! Her and Alpine can have play time! Any food that’s here you can help yourself to if you wanna, and if she happens to run out of dog food, I’ll send you some money to pay for it. If you have any questions you have my number. Thank you, thank you so much Bucky. I’ll repay you, I swear.” “Don’t have to, doll….just don’t miss that flight.” He chuckles before you quickly hang up the call after another minute or so.
You rush from your apartment after telling Lilith goodbye and that Bucky will be by to check on her soon. You told Bucky on the phone where the spare key is outside of the door, and make a small note for him just in case he forgets anything, lay it on the counter, and then you’re gone. Bucky can’t help but find slight amusement in your rushing while you two were on the phone. He thought you’d be smarter than to not wait to pack a bag when your sister is nearing her due date. He knew you’d told him about a month ago she was wanting you there and that he might have to dog sit for you, but he didn’t think it would happen so fast. But apparently, as you told him earlier, she’s delivering a little earlier than expected, and so you have to go. It’s not that Bucky doesn’t mind, he’s just….he’s not the biggest dog person. He’s not…scared of them, that’s what he would say anyways, he just really doesn’t like the barking and how…mean some of them look. Maybe he’s gotten chased by a few on missions. Maybe. He won’t admit it though. But he’ll do pretty much anything for you, and if that means dog sitting your probably big, scary dog, then he’ll do it. Because he needs any excuse he can to spend time with you AND help you out so he can form a closer bond with you.
And you on the other hand, rushing to the plane minutes before take off, get settled in just in time. You text Bucky, ‘thank you again! Just take her out in about a couple of hours please:) text me if there are any issues and I’ll send you the number to her vets office!! Definitely owe you a coffee after this;)’ and you send it. You definitely need an excuse to take Bucky out again. Even if the first couple of times were his doings. He took you out to lunch for watching Alpine for two days while he was gone, and then he took you to a movie you’d really been wanting to see after you cleaned his place up for him when he was not expecting some friends over and he was grocery shopping and had no time to prepare. So of course you helped him!!! The place wasn’t even that dirty, just some clothes in his room laying on a chair, the shower needed cleaning, and the kitchen had a few dishes in the sink. Bucky is typically a clean man, doesn’t like clutter, so to say it wasn’t that messy was shocking to you. It was definitely a change from the past guys you’ve dated. Bucky….god you wish you would have the guts to ask him for coffee without it being like…a return the favor type of thing. The many times he’s wanted to fucking ask you out to dinner have been endless too!! He’s just kind of worried about rejection, and you are as well.
Bucky sits in his bed, unable to sleep. It’s nearing 5am, you’ve only been gone for a little over an hour or so He huffs out and decides to just get up and start some coffee. He’s kind of nervous to see your dog. I mean…he’s not really nervous about many things other than stuff relating to you. You make him nervous in the best way possible. You soften his hardened exterior, and he smiles at that thought- from how far he’s come since meeting you.
He gets your message and replies with, ‘no problem doll! But I’ll definitely take you up on that coffee date!’ He sends it without thinking, and when he rereads the message he- did I really just say COFFEE DATE!!?? “Bucky you’re a fucking idiot!!” He face palms himself before he shakes his head and starts his coffee maker up.
He figures you won’t answer for a bit since you’ll sleep on the flight, and honestly that’s for the best since he just assumed it was a “date” and not just ‘two friends getting coffee with each other’. He huffs out at himself again before he grabs a big coffee mug, setting it down onto the counter and then goes to change.
After Bucky has had his coffee and some eggs with toast, he decides that it’s time for him to finally meet Lilith. Come to think of it, Bucky doesn’t really hear much barking come from your apartment. It’s mainly the downstairs neighbors that he hears, their dog is loud. So either your dog is old and quiet, or….he’s not so sure.
You text him just as he’s about to head out of the door, you must be awake. ‘Always, buck;) talk later’. Thankfully you don’t seem to mind much, and that relieves his stress, so with that, Bucky feels a whole lot better that you don’t seem too turned off by the idea of it being a date. But of course….he wants to actually ask you.
Bucky then grabs his keys and phone before he leaves his apartment, and he locks the door up. He then steps over to yours and with a stable left hand, but slightly shaky right, he uses the key that’s taped to the bottom of the mat outside, and opens the door. He’s cautious, ears listening very carefully as he steps in and then closes the door. “Lilith???” He calls out, eyes looking around as if the dog will come out from hiding and attack him. “It’s Bucky!! Your momma sent me here to check on you.” He says again before he steps further into your apartment. He then hears the scurrying of nails on the hardwood floor and Bucky’s eyes are quick to dart around and he can tell it’s coming from your room. Then he hears a bark, but…it doesn’t sound like a big dog. Lilith then comes around the corner and barks again, tail wagging as she pants a little while looking up at Bucky. He looks down in shock, his brows raising as he takes in the small dog. “Lilith??” He asks as if the dog will actually speak to him, and to his surprise the dog yips. “Okay…well this is a shocker.” He chuckles before he crouches down and extends his right hand for her to sniff. She immediately comes over and licks his fingers before she nudges against his knee and then her front paws are up and onto his thigh, asking to be held almost. “Oh…you’re sweet.” Bucky smiles before he picks her up and stands up, cuddling her into his arms. “This isn’t so bad….you’re just a sweetie!” He chuckles in slight baby talk to Lilith and she yips before licking his cheek. “Okay okay slow down….we just met, and I’m not sure if you even like me. You might try and bite me later.” Bucky boops her nose before he grabs her leash and attaches it to her collar before he goes to walk her out.
It’s like that for the whole day. He’ll text you how she’s doing and ask how your sister is, and every few hours he’ll walk Lilith. He stays with her for a couple of hours and ends up playing fetch, since she’s not a big dog it’s easier for her to do without knocking into things or making a mess. Then he heads back to his place and spends some time with Alpine, who doesn’t seem to mind the scent of Lilith on Bucky all that much.
Then around lunch, Bucky fixes him some food and takes a nap since he didn’t get to sleep much last night. Around three, he heads back to check on Lilith and he takes her back outside along with changing her water afterwards. You call him while he’s there. “Hi Buck!!” You say cheerfully through the phone, and Bucky can’t help but smile at the sound of your voice. “Hey doll, how’s things?” “My sister is good! Well, as good as she can be. She’s almost there, they’ll think she’ll go into full dilation in another hour or two. How’s things there??” You ask as you stand outside in the waiting room. You just had to call Bucky to see how he’s doing, you miss him. “Is Lilith being the best girl??” He chuckles at that, “yeah she’s being real good! I- I do have to say I was a little nervous. I thought she’d be a big dog considering her name.” You laugh, “aw Buck!!! Nooo!! She’s a sweet, tiny girl! Kinda like a mop, but…she’s so sweet!” You say softly before you bite your bottom lip as you hear Bucky's low chuckle. God you miss him so much already.
“Yeah I can see that now.” He replies, his left hand softly scratching Lilith’s head as she rests on the couch beside him. “Hey uh….doll?” Bucky takes a breath, licking his lips as he looks around your place. It’s so homey and comforting. “You uh-.” “Oh god, I’m sorry Bucky!! I’ll text you later okay?? Her husband is freaking out again. I’ll talk later, I miss you!!” You say in a rush before hanging up. Bucky mentally curses at himself for not just spitting out his question. He hopes to finally take you out on a date when you get back home, but looks like he’ll have to wait even longer.
The next couple of days are the same routine. Sleep, eat breakfast, walk Lilith, play fetch, go home, see alpine, watch tv, have lunch, text you throughout the day, then take Lilith out again, feed her, give her fresh water, then stay at your place for a while before going back to his. Bucky would walk Lilith for a little bit at dark, and then come back to get her settled for bed.
The last day of dog sitting, he hasn’t heard from you. It’s a little after lunch and he’s texted you multiple times. He’s brought Alpine over and she and Lilith are having a ball. They’re playing, running around, and then they’ll take a small break in Bucky’s lap where they each get attention from him while he watches tv.
He’s so caught up in the show while they run around and play, that he doesn’t hear the door unlock and you come stumbling in. “Well look at this!!” You say with a huge smile before you shut and lock the door, your bags plopping to the floor nearly startling Bucky. Lilith yips and runs over to you, Alpine meowing when her new friend leaves her, but soon enough Alpine comes over to you while you’re giving Lilith pets. “Hi you two!! I see you’re getting along well!” You say in a soft tone, happy to see your baby and alpine.
Bucky then gets up and comes over, a smile on his face as he does. He’s got his shoes off, and he’s not wearing a jacket. He’s in just some sweats and a shirt and he looks beautiful and cozy, and warm. “Hey doll, ya had me worried.” He says, and you finally stop crouching and walk over to him, smile on your face as you wrap your arms around his torso. “Hi Bucky!! I missed you! Sorry I had you worried. Forgot to turn my ringer back on and I was on the flight at like…6AM.” You chuckle a little before you tilt your head up and look at him. Bucky’s arms are around your waist, and he’s never been so happy to see you in his life! “It’s okay, just got worried. Figured you were coming back today, because you said so.” He laughs before he leans down and kisses your forehead which takes you both by surprise, and your fur babies both stand by your sides as the awkward moment has you both letting heat take over your faces. “Oh uh….shit I’m sorry I-.” “No! It’s okay! Really….I- don’t worry.” You reply, your face hot and hands suddenly clammy.
Bucky clears his throat and swallows, “uh well…I did want to ask a question.” He says with a nervous smile and you laugh a little before placing your hands on his chest. “What would that be, Buck??” Bucky takes a breath before he stares at the wall behind your hand and he tries to gather his courage. “I was trying to ask you this the other day on the phone but I guess it was just really really bad timing.” He chuckles before he finally looks back down at you, and he can’t help how his face softens at how your brows are furrowed and face is in a confused expression. “I….I would love to take you out to dinner if you’d let me. Or we could go do coffee like we had already planned but like maybe we could go do some downtown looking around or go to the park, something?” He rambles off before he swallows thickly, his teeth taking his bottom lip in between them. “So..?” “So…?” He hums back after you. “You’re wanting us to go out on a date…?” You ask, a small smile on your lips as you look up at him. “Yes! I- that’s what I’m wanting. Especially since our kids get along now, I think it’s only right that their parents get along don't you?” Bucky winks before you giggle, and the sound makes his heart nearly burst from how cute it is. “I’d love to, Bucky. Definitely think us, the parents, should get along for the sake of our babies. We deserve to have some fun too!” You say before kissing his jaw and then resting your head on his chest. “But for now, I’m exhausted. Can the date wait until tomorrow??” You ask in a soft tone as Bucky starts to sway you two back and forth, Alpine and Lilith now off playing somewhere else again. “Sure, dollface. It can wait until tomorrow. Gives me even more time to plan.” Bucky hums before he lifts you up to take you to your room so you can sleep, a huge smile on his face as he does so.
Look At Me — Bucky Barnes
Pairing: 40s!bucky x nurse!reader
Word count: 11,951
Summary: She never expected to fall so deeply for Sergeant James "Bucky" Barnes, what with his skirt-chasing tendencies and cocky personality. Except how was she to know war would change everything she thought she wanted? Suddenly, she wanted him.
Warnings: angst, violence, WW2, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, death, torture, whump, HYDRA, post-serum Steve Rodgers, kissing, angst with happy ending. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
Note: I got a little carried away... oops. Anyway, happy reading!
"We'll set up camp here. The sun's getting low, and it's not safe to travel at night. We'll freeze to death if we try." James "Bucky" Barnes flung his pack to the ground and stretched his aching limbs over his head, sore from walking all day.
The infantry had left camp early that morning, just before dawn. They were to travel across the Eastern Italian border and meet the British battalion just south of Azzano. General McGinnis planned to march with a regiment of his own a week after news of the 107th's safe arrival reached camp.
"Should I start a fire, Sergeant?" Private Andrew Eaton asked, rubbing his hands together. The sun was setting, spreading a soft glow over the snow-ridden forest. "Warm us up?" His eyes flicked toward the girl, and she stiffened under his gaze.
She was a nurse, travelling with the soldiers because of her immaculate record. She had never lost a man before; one could be on the brink of death and would survive if she got her hands on them. Her expertise was unmatched and desperately needed on the Eastern Front, where the allies were losing men at an alarming rate.
Bucky shook his head. "We're too close to enemy lines. The smoke will draw attention, and we can't risk that."
Multiple eyes drifted to the nurse's shivering form, some filled with pity, others with concern. She had not once complained about the walk nor the temperature, but she was no soldier. Everyone knew her body was at risk of collapse; unaccustomed to the harsh terrain of the Dolomite Mountains, her back hunched with the weight of her pack, her eyes drooped with fatigue, cheeks crimson with cold and body trembling.
Mimicking Bucky, she, too, flung her bag on the frozen soil and dropped unceremoniously on it, finally giving in to her exhaustion.
"You sure about that, Sergeant Barnes?" Eaton questioned. The girl widened her eyes in alarm. It was one thing to hold the soldiers back with her slow pace and decreased stamina, another to put them all in danger. "Maybe we should risk it."
Typically, questioning a superior officer was inappropriate and inexcusable, but not one person reacted negatively to the Private's question. Murmurs of approval spread through the men.
Bucky turned toward the nurse, taking in her form. Like the rest of his soldiers, he also worried for the girl—more than he should have. She did not have any endurance training. She had not even left the relative safety of the camp until now, and it took everything in Bucky to stop himself from carrying her back to base camp, where she would be safe from the threat of gunfire and death.
He opened his mouth—to either agree with Eaton or disagree with him—no one could know. The girl chose that moment to let go of her hesitations. "I once spent an entire night out in the streets of France with just a pair of gloves and a tattered jacket," she rushed out. At the confused looks, she clarified, "in the middle of December." More looks. "In negative twenty-five-degree weather..." her voice was slowly tapering into shyness. "I am alive, am I not?"
"How much is that in Fahrenheit, Miss?" And the conversation moved forward.
The soldiers insisted on lighting at least a small fire for the girl's sake, igniting one under the cover of the dense coniferous trees. While the men began to set up camp for the night, Bucky stood there with a puckered brow and a frown marring his features, before shaking his head and helping them.
The nurse decided she would not be the one to risk them all. After another twenty minutes or so of bickering, she finally lost her temper. "You might as well know by now; I'm inherently stubborn, and nothing any of you say or do will change my mind."
After that, a perimeter was established, lookouts were posted, and tents were begrudgingly set up. Some soldiers retired to rest while others passed down alcohol, huddled against each other to conserve heat.
"It'll warm you up." Bucky sat down next to the shivering girl on a collapsed, decaying tree. He thrust a flask toward her mouth, urging her to drink from it. He took a sip when she made no move, clearing his throat and asking her again. "Will you drink some?"
His voice was sweet and kind, and she despised it. She pursed her lips in response and leaned away. "No, thank you," she replied while her teeth chattered.
Bucky frowned in annoyance. Her stubbornness, which he usually found amusing, was turning out to be somewhat of a hindrance.
"Sorry, doll, but it wasn't a question." He thrust the flask toward her once more, belligerent in his attempt.
She leaned farther away, and Bucky followed her, trapping her against the tree. "No, thank you. You know I don't drink alcohol—."
"Yes!" he suddenly grew frustrated and ran a trembling hand through his brown locks. Somehow the girl always managed to get on his nerve. "I know you don't drink, alright? And I know you hate cursing, that you're stubborn as hell, and that you talk funny because 'proper use of language is important.' I also know that you'll die of hypothermia if you don't warm yourself up, and I rather not have to explain to Colonel Phillips that we lost our only good nurse to stubbornness."
The girl inhaled sharply, her emotions in overdrive. She didn't realize how much he noticed her little quirks.
"I'd rather not have to explain to Colonel Phillips that we lost our only good nurse to stubbornness."
"Now, your whining might've worked in Brooklyn," Bucky continued. "Especially with Steve backing you up; but it won't work here. If you haven't noticed, we're not in New York anymore."
"I have eyes," the girl snapped, convinced she was nothing but a burden to him and the soldiers. She wondered again why Colonel Philips sent her, of all people, with the 107th. She didn't think she was that good. "You won't have to explain a thing. Don't worry. I won't die so easily."
Her words were laced with contempt and a hint of something else. Remorse, Bucky realized with a start, though before he could ponder on it any longer, she began to rise, seemingly done with their conversation.
"Damn it, woman!" Bucky's loud voice caught the entire camp's attention. He grabbed her forearm and yanked her back down. She winced when her bottom landed on the trunk a bit too hard. "I'll force this down your throat if I have to."
The girl blanched, shocked by Bucky's authoritative tone. "N-no, you will not!" She made an effort to appear commanding, but her stutter betrayed her. She was scared he would make good on his promise.
"You do not want to test me," he seethed. There was a look in Bucky's eyes she had not seen before. A crazed, almost feral glint in his pupils.
Her heartbeat quickened, and her insides warmed. She chalked it up to adrenaline. "I'm not that cold anymore."
Bucky said nothing, just continued to stare at her with the feral look still in his eyes.
Seconds passed—seconds that felt like minutes—before he spoke. "We're sleeping in one tent tonight." She didn't know why he was telling her that. "Together. To preserve body heat." She was still confused. "You either drink this, girl," he thrust the flask toward her lips once more. "or I'll make you sleep between my men. God knows they haven't touched a woman in months. So they won't have any complaints."
She argued with him, calling him petty names, and stuttering through excuses. "Y-you—you're."
"What?" he taunted. "Say it. Am I an asshole? A fucking idiot? Go on, don't be shy."
"You're an incompetent Sergeant. The most incompetent I've ever met!"
"I'm the only Sergeant you've ever met," Bucky deadpanned. "Seriously? That the best you can do?"
It was. "You're not that cruel! You're bluffing, like you bluffed about throwing me in the East River last year when I went out with that doctor."
"That doctor was a fucking creep with a criminal record," Bucky seethed. The girl's refusal went unheard. "And I wasn't bluffing. If Steve didn't stop me, you would have been swimming with the fish."
She muttered her annoyance under her breath, but Bucky caught it.
"God as my witness, I'll take you over my shoulder and lie on top of you if I have to!" One look into his eyes, and she could tell he was not lying.
When again he thrust the flask toward her mouth, she begrudgingly took it from him, bringing the cool metal to her lips. When the alcohol's bitter smell reached her, she almost gagged at the potent stench.
"I can't!" the girl choked on a sob, shoving the flask back into Bucky's hands.
A smirk adorned his pink lips, so unlike the anger she had been expecting. "Don't say I didn't warn ya." And before she could react, her world had been turned upside down.
Her legs went up, and her head went down. For a few moments, she froze, unable to understand what had happened. When a hand landed on her bottom, she gasped, realizing that Bucky had indeed made good on his promise—taken her over his shoulder.
When she screamed out of frustration, he shushed her. "Don't make me gag you."
The girl felt red, hot embarrassment at being treated like a child in front of all the soldiers. She scratched fruitlessly at Bucky's back, only to end up clutching his fatigues with numb fingers as he carried her across the clearing. At least the men had half a mind to keep their gaze averted when she was thrown unceremoniously inside one of the tents.
"You act like a caveman," she hissed, looking up at his scrunched brow.
Bucky's eyes softened, and all previous frustration and anger left him. Her insult amused him, and he plopped down next to her with a silent huff. "And you act like a brat."
The girl's answering words died on her tongue at Andrew Eaton's voice. "Lose the frown, Miss. There's not a single man here who wouldn't take a bullet for you, Barnes included."
A couple more soldiers entered the small tent, taking up the rest of the space. The girl ignored them, inhaling deeply. "I was perfectly fine outside, Andrew. Not cold at all."
A quick laugh from Bucky. "Is that why your lips are blue, and you're shaking like a leaf? 'Cause, you're not cold at all?"
"—He's just tryna keep you alive," Andrew interrupted before another argument could ensue.
A laugh bubbled up in the girl's throat before she could stop it. For some reason, the suggestion that Bucky Barnes was keeping her alive made her hysterical. Bucky Barnes, the man who couldn't keep a plant alive. She laughed until her stomach hurt, then she took a deep breath, clutched her middle while she fell backwards, and continued laughing.
"Fucking hell? She's crazy," the girl heard Bucky curse under his breath, but she was so far gone in delirium she could not be bothered to scold him for it.
"At least she's not frownin' anymore," Andrew offered.
The girl laughed harder, curling in on herself. Bucky stared at her with confused amusement, barely concealed, and chuckled softly. She was the most bizarre person he had ever met. So odd. Lately, he caught himself smiling more in her presence than ever before, finding it harder to resist her contagious delights. She was a constant amusement for the rest of the soldiers as well. Entertaining, though stressful.
She was still very clumsy, tripping on rocks and slipping down declines. A soldier needed to be watching her all the time, and that soldier, unbeknownst to her, was generally Bucky. He had grown eyes in the back of his head, trying to ensure she did not hurt herself. The girl had touched the hearts of all the men, his most of all, though he tried to conceal the fact by being curt and severe with her. Despite that, he did find pleasure in being able to tame her.
Ludovic Fournier, the Frenchman, muttered a phrase in his native tongue, and Andrew translated for him. "Women go a bit crazy before starting their courses. It's best to indulge them and not question it."
The entire tent went crazy, laughing and hollering almost as hard as the girl had been. Though she was not laughing anymore, and she was not amused. Her laughter died as quickly as it started—jarringly abrupt.
"I'm right here, you know!" She turned to the Frenchman. "Dis-moi, monsieur," the girl turned to him with a sarcastic and slightly intimidating curl of her lips. "Comment avez-vous appris tant de choses sur les femmes?"
The Frenchman swallowed thickly, and from behind him, Andrew translated his words to the small group. "She's asking how he got so damn smart."
"Ah! Idiote moi. Mais bien sûr. Ta femme doit être folle si elle tá épousé. Rien à voir avec se scours. Accune femme saine désprit ne portrait passer plus d'une journee avec toi sans avoir besoin d'être admis dans en établissement mental par la suite."
"She says, don't blame that time of the month, or your poor wife, when it's you're the reason she's like that." He guffawed out loud, drawing the girl's attention, before continuing. "Anyone would go crazy after spending more than a minute with you. Jesus Christ! Man, oh, man!"
The girl went warm all over. That was precisely why she tended to keep quiet. Her temper would rise if she did not keep her emotions in check. She had only ever lost it with Bucky before, never in front of a crowd. "Excuse me, gentlemen," she mustered what remaining dignity she had left, "but it's time for me to rest. I will see you all in the morning, bright and early. Good night."
Amidst all the hysterical laughing and the rampant rambling, the girl had forgotten Bucky's promise. He yanked her down before she could leave. He had indulged her long enough.
"I'm not letting you kill yourself—don't," he started, when he noticed her lips curl, "start laughing again. It was traumatizing enough the first time."
What he meant: "Please don't laugh again, because if you do, I wouldn't want you to stop. Ever." Except he did not know he felt such a thing. So, he annoyed her instead, undermining his affection for her.
The girl huffed loudly, voicing her frustration. The rest of the men settled inside the tent, pressed against each other for heat, hoping for at least a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. "I'm not cold anymore. I told you before."
"You're the worst liar I have ever met. Seriously! Worse than Steve." That was true. Steve was a horrible liar. "I can see you shivering. Hell! I can hear you!"
Bucky decided to give her a choice. A poor one, yes, but a choice, nonetheless. "Where do you wanna sleep? In between Fournier and Ward or next to Eaton?" He leaned in close, putting a hand next to his mouth as if indulging her with a secret. "I gotta warn you, though. He snores like a pig."
The girl simmered. She did not want to spend the night in the middle of men, and Bucky knew that. He was intimately aware of her reservation toward the opposite sex."Over here is fine." She was referring to the front of the tent where she was already seated.
"Perfect! This way, I'll be able to keep an eye on you."
"You did choose the coldest spot, but I won't complain. Promise." He shrugged out of his jacket.
"What are you doing?"
"—as long as you wear this."
By now, it was a sort of ritual for Bucky to demand something of the girl and for her to deny him. No matter how helpful or minuscule the command, she could hardly help it anymore, even though it always ended with her compliance—sometimes forced.
"No, thank you." She was nothing if not stubborn.
Bucky scoffed. Grabbing her wrists, he pulled her down until she was in his lap. The girl stifled her scream and gasped instead.
The rest of the men were almost all asleep, exhausted from the long day. So was the girl, though she would not admit it. She was tired and cold—more than usual—and scared; of what was to come and of what was currently taking place. Her ancient promise of staying away from James Buchanan Barnes was becoming harder to uphold.
Bucky knew this—not of her promise, of course, but of her crumbling resolve—So he pushed. He flustered and confused her. "Only because it's amusing," he told himself—her reaction to his teasing. "Only because it's amusing,"
"You should stick with red. Purple is not a good colour on you, and that's what you'll become if you don't listen to me." He placed his jacket over her shoulders, and she was instantly warmed.
"What about you?" Her voice was meek and hesitant, words honeyed in their delivery. "Will you not get cold?" But he only smirked and raised his brows in answer. "Oh. Right." She had forgotten his natural affinity for all things warm, so unlike her own, for all things cold.
"I've got both you and Eaton keeping me warm. I wouldn't worry about it." Bucky smirked when the girl said nothing and only blinked in surprise.
She lowered herself, letting her head touch the soft ground. Tarps had been placed neatly all over, offering protection from the snow surrounding them. She turned away from Bucky, putting a foot of space between him and herself, holding her breath when she felt him lie next to her. However, the second she relaxed, his arm wrapped around her midsection and pulled her flush against his front, not an inch separating them.
"Bucky!" she warned in a hushed whisper, struggling against his hold. "This is inappropriate!"
"No!" he huffed in her ear, hot breath warming her neck. "This is survival!" She continued her futile attempts, trying harder to elude his grasp. "Besides, I gave you my only jacket, and I need to—Damn it, woman! Stop moving," he groaned in her ear.
"Why?" she asked, squirming harder.
"Because—Damn it!" he groaned again. "Just stop, will ya?" A deep breath. "Please."
The girl went still. Bucky Barnes never said please, never begged. She had not thought it possible. So, to hear him beg her... she decided she could never let Bucky Barnes use that word ever again. It was dangerous when uttered by his lips. An irresistible, compelling word that she could never deny, gladly giving in to any request.
"Sorry," she muttered quietly, quickly settling down, unsure if he was listening. He was. "I'm sorry."
The girl let the tiredness of the day wash over her. She let Bucky's arms hold her, keep her safe and warm, and protect her. Her eyes closed, and she entered the state before sleep where the body was still aware and preparing for rest.
"You drive me crazy," Bucky's whispered in her ear, so quiet she convinced herself she imagined it.
"You drive me crazy too," was her last thought before she let deep slumber overtake her. Except the girl knew Bucky did not mean it with the same intention as hers. "So crazy."
At a steep decline, her foot swept away from under her on an icy patch of grass. From behind her, Bucky dropped his copy of "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn," extending his arm to grab her. He was not fast enough, and she fell on her back, sliding down until she hit a mountain of fresh snow.
"Jesus Christ, Darling!" Bucky reached under her arms to haul her up as if she weighed nothing. "You gotta watch where you're stepping."
"It's too dark," she sputtered, wiping snow off her face. "I couldn't see anything." From the east, the full moon was their only source of light, doing a poor job of illuminating the path through the dense forest around them.
"Fucking hell," Bucky swore, appraising the girl from head to toe. "You're soaked."
"I'm fine," she rasped, already beginning to shiver as the cold permeated her layers to settle in her skin. "I can keep going."
"Like hell you can," Bucky muttered, looking ahead to see everyone else's progress.
"There's no need to swear," the girl grumbled, pulling her hat farther down.
Bucky raised a brow at that. "At least the cold didn't get to your head."
She rolled her eyes, turning to leave, but Bucky grabbed her before she could take a single step, hauling her up in his arms. She shrieked, wrapping her hands around his neck for stability. "What are you doing?"
"You're going to trip again," he said by way of explanation. "It's just a little bit further. Then we'll set up camp."
Bucky ignored the girl's protests, quickly catching up with the rest of the battalion. They walked another mile in about half an hour, and Bucky ignored all of the girl's grumbling, only acknowledging her once they reached a small clearing and began setting up camp.
"Shut up," he grumbled, to which he received a smack on the back of his head.
"You shut up."
He lowered the girl next to the small smokeless fire Simon Ward lit, draping his jacket over her, "Dry up as much as you can. I'll be back."
Scooting closer to the small blaze, the girl pulled Bucky's jacket tighter around her shoulders, studying the flame with intensity as she recalled waking up the past few days.
The girl had gone to sleep slightly rigid and stiff, unused to resting next to another body, but she woke up in a tangle of limbs. Bucky's hands in her hair, her face tucked in the crook of his neck. Sometime in the middle of the night, she had turned over and gravitated closer to the heat his body was radiating. It was the best sleep either of them had ever had. Neither was willing to acknowledge it.
The night after was a repeat of the night before. Bucky threatened alcohol down the girl's throat, and she responded with a litany of insults which he laughed away. They wrestled while everyone watched—Bucky won, and the girl awoke the next day surrounded by a familiar warmth and a musky scent one could only describe as Bucky Barnes.
A week later, the moon was low in the sky, marking the beginning of winter. Neither the girl nor Bucky brought up their temporary sleeping arrangements, choosing to ignore the feelings festering inside them. The girl felt her resolve slowly crumbling. What was that promise she made to herself regarding Bucky Barnes? She couldn't quite recall.
The girl busied herself with unpleasant memories of his. She remembered when she first moved into the apartment across from Bucky. She was carrying a box full of books up the fifth floor of a six-story building. She had to take a break every few minutes to rest her arms, or they would've fallen off. Just outside her door, she collided with a brick wall. Her books went flying—so did she—and Bucky Barnes ran past her without so much as an "excuse me," muttering profanity under his breath. From then on, she started hating him.
That's how she met Steve. The slender young man popped a blonde head out of his friend's door and asked if he could help. She said, "no thanks," but he didn't listen, insisting on bringing the rest of her things up. That night, over a cup of hot tea, she learned about James Buchanan Barnes and his skirt-chasing tendencies. She began to hate him a bit more.
She recalled all his jabs of how she dressed, the way she looked, mocking her insecurities by sarcastically complimenting her. The ruined date with that doctor—never mind the potential criminal record. His threat to drown her.
He broke her friend's heart, told her he would call the next day and didn't. She was married now with a baby on the way, but it was the principle of the thing that irked her.
One by one, all of Bucky's wrongdoings came to the forefront of the girl's mind. When he argued with her, undermined her, and treated her like porcelain. When he called her "doll," "darling," and "sweetheart."
She hated that most of all.
Still, she could not ignore the tiny flutter in her heart whenever she thought of the blue-eyed sergeant. Despite all the bad, she now only remembered his warm smile and comforting embrace.
The girl brought her hand dangerously close to the fire, letting the flame irritate her skin before pulling away. She still felt cold.
Bucky returned a few moments later, rubbing his bare hands together in front of his face. "You tired?"
The girl ignored his question, asking one of her own. "Where are your gloves?"
Bucky's frosty breath momentarily covered his face. "Bradshaw lost his."
Bucky nodded with a smile, unsurprised the girl knew most of the soldiers' names. "Wait, what are you doing?"
She fished her gloves from her coat, thrusting them toward him. "They're dry now. Here, take them."
"Don't be stupid," Bucky scoffed, "you'll get cold." Still, she persevered, leaving her hand dangling. "I'm not taking your gloves," Bucky said with finality.
"Alright," she nodded, dropping her hand and taking off his jacket instead.
Bucky seized her by the shoulders, stopping her and giving her a little shake. "What the fucking hell, woman! Keep your jacket on. It's freezing."
"Don't swear. It's yours, not mine. Take it." She tried prying his fingers off, but he wouldn't budge. "The gloves or the jacket, Bucky. Your choice."
"So goddamn stubborn. Every day you find something new to argue with me about, don't you?"
"Pick one," she warned, "or I'm giving both to Jeremy."
With a mumbled curse, Bucky snatched the gloves from her lap, putting them on like a petulant child.
"And say thank you," she snapped, slightly perturbed he hadn't taken back his jacket.
Bucky squinted his eyes, dropping down next to her. "You're acting like a real brat today."
"You're acting like a caveman! Now leave me alone so I can sleep in peace." She had turned away from Bucky, but when he offered no reply, she swallowed uneasily and looked back. His eyes glinted with mischief, hinting at his next step. "Bucky, no!"
She tried to stop him but was no match for his strength. Her world spun, and she found herself on his shoulder once again. Thankfully she stayed quiet this time, not bringing any extra attention toward them.
"I'll show you caveman." Bucky plopped her down in one of the smaller tents with space just enough for two, closing the flap behind him.
She steamed in forced fury, trying to take comfort in the fact that, pretty soon, she wouldn't have to put up with the infuriating soldier at all. She failed.
After a moment, when Bucky still hadn't moved from his hunched-over position at the front of the tent, the girl snapped at him. "What are you waiting for, Bucky? Come to bed!"
They both paused, processing the girl's words. "Come to bed." It was the first time she willingly called for him. She looked down, embarrassment creeping up her neck, unable to see the smile on Bucky's face.
Carefully, Bucky settled in behind her, embracing her with both arms, fitting her against him. When she began to squirm, he only had to issue a single warning before she relaxed. He sighed gratefully, not wanting a repeat of the past week where she slept oblivious while he tried to tamp down his arousal.
"This is nice," Bucky thought the girl muttered, though he couldn't be sure because she was already asleep.
"Yeah, this is really nice," Bucky whispered against her temple as blissful sleep overtook him.
From a distance, the Italian alps were quite breathtaking. She imagined a cabin in the forest, high on the Dolomite mountains; this would be her view. Maybe she would move here one day—once the war was over—and ask Steve to join her. Steve didn't have anyone stopping him from leaving other than Bucky. Maybe Bucky could join too? She shook that thought away.
The Dolomites were far behind them now, and as they passed town after town, destroyed and abandoned, an unsettling feeling grew vigorous in her gut. They were close to the Austrian border, hugging the small villages and settlements as they got closer to their destination: Azzano.
They made camp as the sun set, supplying the perfect backdrop to a most tiresome journey. The girl slung her pack to the ground and stretched her muscles while waiting for Bucky to finish ordering the men around.
He offered her water when he finished, which she took gratefully. "Lieutenant General Allan Montgomery should be here within the week. We'll travel the rest of the way to Azzano together." Then Bucky's eyes downturned. "We're only a few miles away from the front line. Do you remember your training?" he asked, looking for hesitation.
Of course, by training, he was referring to the hour-long lesson she was given on battlefield defence, not that any of it stuck. She tried schooling her features, failing miserably. "Yes, I do." Her voice was strong and confident, though she felt anything but. "If we spot the enemy, I'm supposed to set up a station at a safe spot and wait for the injured there. They will be sent back if they are fit to fight. If not..." she trailed off, unable to stomach the fact. "But I won't let that happen," she promised.
Bucky looked at her pityingly, as if he knew something she did not. "Let's hope so. The rest of the 107th should be here in a couple of days with General McGinnis. They were right behind us, so—"
Bucky paused, looking behind the girl at the soldiers setting up camp, before shaking his head and continuing. "Are you tired? The sun's beginning to set."
The girl wrapped her arms around her shoulders and shook her head.
"What's wrong?" Bucky asked, immediately picking up on the girl's discomfort.
"Bucky..." she began hesitantly. "How long will you make me sleep with you?"
Bucky frowned. "Do you feel uncomfortable? I know I came across as an asshole, but I didn't want you to freeze to death. Sorry, we can stop."
Unable to respond immediately, the girl looked at him with barely concealed bewilderment. Apologizing; is another thing Bucky Barnes did not do. "No, I don't want to stop. It's just..." she trailed off, looking for the right word. "inappropriate, especially with the General joining us soon."
"No, it's not," he said matter of factly. "We're friends."
"Friends don't sleep together," the girl responded, unsure of what she wanted to hear him say.
Bucky waited until she looked him in the eyes. "We're the exception. Hey, they've got bigger matters to worry about than us sharing body heat. Okay?"
An awkward silence fell between the pair, and the girl cleared her throat before the feeling could consume her. "The men look ready to fight," she observed, watching her surroundings.
Bucky ran a hand through his hair. "Oh, uh... I mentioned we're near the front lines, right? So we need to set up a perimeter and plan the best line of attack. Make sure we have a solid line of defence in case something happens. Hey, don't worry. We've got this." Bucky gave her shoulder a tiny shove.
"Oh," she huffed, "I am not worried."
"Yeah?" a smile lit his eyes. "Your face is telling me a different story."
She pursed her lips in frustration. "I'm not worried about you, Bucky," she snapped, "I'm worried about Steve. He needs his friend to come back home—in one piece—and now, I know you normally have no regard for your safety, but you have to be careful if you don't want to leave our friend alone in Brooklyn."
Bucky saw red. He pulled at his hair in frustration. It was unbelievable how quickly she was able to rile him up. "Are you kidding me? I'm the one with no regard for safety? In the time I've known you, you've almost died over five times. You can't even cross the street without putting yourself in danger! Hell! I'm still confused about how they let you in this damn war in the first place." He rushed his words, voicing his anger and annoyance. He only registered the last part of the girl's sentence when he took a deep breath.
"Why would Steve be all alone in Brooklyn?" he asked in a more even tone. "You're going to be there, and a few months later, I'll join... he won't be alone. Why would you say that?"
He froze at the look on her face. Guilt—In her eyes, in the way she held herself, oozing from her pores. Bucky could smell it. Bucky could even taste it. "What did you do?"
"I'm so sorry. I wanted to tell you both sooner, but I only just decided and—"
"What. Did. You. Do?" Bucky grit out.
The girl took a deep breath. "I'm leaving. Moving to Canada. I already asked for a transfer—"
"Canada? Fucking Canada?"
"—Don't swear, please," she pleaded.
"This is some sick joke, right? Tell me you're joking." Bucky grabbed her forearms, forcing her to look him in the eyes.
"I'm sorry, Bucky, but I already applied for the transfer. I'm supposed to be moved to a different regiment when we get back to base."
There were many things the girl expected Bucky to say. She expected him to be happy that he was finally rid of her. Relieved she would be gone. She did not expect him to be hurt.
"Were you ever gonna say goodbye?"
"To Steve, to me. Were you ever going to tell me if I hadn't asked?"
No, she would not have. "Please, Bucky," she pleaded. "I don't want to leave you angry. For the sake of our past, let it go. We won't see each other again for a long time. Not until the war is over."
Bucky scoffed. "Phillips would never let that happen; he wouldn't let you leave. You're his favourite nurse."
She furrowed her brows in response. "I'm not Colonel Phillips' favourite nurse. He has no favourites."
"You're everyone's favourite nurse," he replied as if stating a fact.
"Liar!" she wanted to scream at him. She knew she was not his favourite.
"Not yours," she whispered, staring at him for a moment. "Lila Bellamy told me about the date you took her on. She said you turned a war zone into the most romantic place she'd ever seen. You brought her flowers, danced with her, and kissed her on the cheek once the night was over." She felt wetness gathering in her eyes. "You were the perfect gentleman."
When the first tear dropped, she didn't bother wiping it away. "When you return to base camp, please give Lila my regard. She was quite worried for me. Will you let her know I'm safe? She would be glad to hear from you, and I won't get to talk to her before I leave."
Bucky's grip on her shoulder tightened almost painfully, making her flinch. Through the hurt coursing in her body, she managed a feeble smile. "Try not to break her heart? You two look good together."
"No!" Bucky had had enough; he could hold his words in no longer. "There's nothing between Lila and me."
The girl shook her head. "You don't have to lie."
"Stop it!" Bucky exploded, shaking her. "Stop pushing me away. I don't want Lila; I never wanted her. I've only ever wanted you!"
"Bucky," the girl gasped.
"There's no way I'm letting you leave me, doll," he started, and there was that word she hated. "I'll take you over my shoulder if I have to, but you're not going to fucking Canada; because I love—"
Bucky never got to finish his sentence, never got to tell the girl how he felt because one of his worst nightmares was suddenly realized.
A bullet whizzed past them both—so close that the girl could smell the gunpowder in the wind, could feel its displacement through air against her cheek before it found a home in the soldier behind her. She screamed as she fell, Bucky's heavy weight shielding her body, keeping her down. Her world turned upside down, and she found herself on the cold ground with Bucky's grip on her arms tightened painfully.
To her right, the unfortunate soldier lay dead, with an 8-millimeter-sized hole in his head oozing a steady stream of thick blood. A wound meant for her.
The girl touched a hand to her cheek, which had suddenly warmed. It came back painted as red as the poppy fields back in Provence, France.
She began to tremble as shock overtook her.
Bucky swore under his breath, eyes wide as he took in their surroundings. Beneath him, the girl's eyes darkened in fear. She smeared the splatter of blood on her cheeks and stared at her fingers in horror.
"Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God." She kept muttering under her breath, eyes wide and lips quivering. "N-No. No. No. No."
All around Bucky, the soldiers ran, grabbing artillery and readying defences. "What the hell happened!?" he screamed. "We had a perimeter set up!" Underneath him, she shivered—out of shock or fear, he determined, rather than the cold.
"Those Nazi bastards were waiting to ambush us!" a voice shouted from amidst the chaos. "They knew we were coming!"
Another bullet whizzed past Bucky's head, embedding itself in the ground next to the girl's head. He jerked her away and swore. "Fuck!" She still trembled under him, muttering nonsense. He took her face in his hands, urging her to look at him. " Hey, darlin'? Doll, look at me."
Her eyes were glued to her shaky hands. "Oh God, no. No, I can't. I can't. I can't."
For a few seconds, Bucky froze above her—a few seconds too many—before his training kicked in. He needed to get her out of there. Bucky yanked her hands to the side and held her face in a bruising grip, forcing her to look at him.
"We're in a war zone right now." He said her name with fierce assurance. "The enemy isn't going to stop until we're all dead. I need you to remember the promise you made me this morning. You promised you wouldn't let anyone die—Hey!"
The girl tried peeking at the dead soldier beside her, but Bucky blocked her view.
"Don't look at him. Why are you looking at him? Look at me," he said. The girl whimpered, her eyes misting. "Look at me. That's not your fault."
She shook her head.
"—Hey! It's not. Those German bastards killed him, not you."
"That bullet was meant for me," she sobbed between breaths, "it should have hit me." The desperation in her voice cut him like a knife. He felt her fear as if it were his own.
"Don't you dare! Don't you fucking dare!" Under normal circumstances, Bucky would be concerned at the girl's lack of reaction to his cursing, but he had already spent too much time coddling her, and the men needed him. "I'm gonna go and avenge that soldier's death, darlin'," Buck shouted over the sound of battle. "I'm going to burn those Germans to the ground. I'm going to do my job, and you have to do yours."
She looked at him then, and Bucky exhaled gratefully at the clarity he saw in her eyes, hidden behind adrenaline and fear. She gave him a little nod and stifled her sobs. "I feel a little sick."
"Me too," said Bucky, hauling them both to their feet.
The second they were upright, Bucky yanked her behind a tree for cover against the onslaught of bullets raining down on them. "You have to run." He grabbed his rifle from behind his back and checked the ammunition.
"When I tell you to, I want you to run toward those trees over there," he pointed to a slight decline, where the trees were thicker and provided more cover, "and I want you to keep on running."
"No matter what happens!" He would not look her in the eyes—Could not look her in the eyes. "You run until you reach the last marker—" Bucky took off his helmet and placed it on the girl's head, fastening it over her hat. "—about a mile and a half out—"
"Bucky, listen to me!"
But he would not listen to her. The girl kept calling him, but he ignored her. He knew his eyes would betray his fear if he did. And he knew that the terrified look that had most likely taken up residence on her face, would force him to lose the last of his sanity and carry her back to base. This war zone was the last place he wanted her.
"You stay there until someone comes for you, and you don't—"
And there it was, that damned name. So absolutely dangerous when uttered by her lips. Time slowed for both of them as if the war had pressed pause. Sound faded, colours brightened, and for a few minuscule seconds Bucky and her existed in their own little world, where the blood on her hands was paint, and the look in his eyes was love and not fear.
Bucky looked down, expecting to see the girl hysterical and weeping. Instead, he saw something completely different. Her eyes were clear, the most they had been in weeks, terribly similar to the look she would get in camp when the life of a soldier was in her hands.
And when she spoke, there was determination in her voice. A promise. "You better come back in one piece for Steve." And he knew she meant, "be careful."
He blinked at her, once, then twice, ensuring there were no other hidden messages behind her words. "You better run fast." And she knew he meant, "I will."
The world around them came back into focus, and with a final tightening of her helmet, Bucky pushed her away, sending her running toward safety.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
How much time had passed? She couldn't be sure. Her boot-clad feet were numb from being buried in the snow, and her back was sore from chafing against the rough bark of a pine tree.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
How much time had passed? The sun had long since disappeared under the horizon. In its stead was the moon, still as big and beautiful as the night before. Was it privy to all the horrors the girl wasn't? Did it frown over the violence and brutality it witnessed, or did the inhumanity of the act make it shine brighter?
Thump. Thump. Thump.
How much time had passed? Above her, a bird chirped loudly, disturbed by the gunfire that seemed to grow closer as the moon rose higher in the sky. An hour? Two? It certainly felt like more.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The girl placed a hand over her rapidly beating heart, patting her chest as a means to settle it. "It's okay," she whispered, afraid to voice her thoughts any louder. "It's okay."
She twisted her body around the thick trunk, peeking at the darkness beyond her hiding spot. Another jarring explosion, fake sounding and unreal, before the world quieted. Eerily so.
The bird above her stopped its music. The leaves stopped their little dance. The girl twisted fully, staring intently at the spot she had come running from before finding a temporary home against her tree. All felt normal—well, as normal as could be.
What was it that prompted her forward and on her feet? Bucky's instructions rang clear in her head. "You stay there until someone comes for you." No one was there for her, yet her feet began to move of their own volition. Perhaps at the persuasion of a greater force. Fear; she could taste it on her tongue.
Fear that made her keep going despite the ache in her limbs. Fear that numbed her skin against the sharp tendrils of wind cutting her face. Fear of the quiet. Of being alone. Of being without him.
"Bucky," her whisper echoed against the draught. "James," her heart bled through the frozen ground.
The stench hit her first. Her nose picked up on what her eyes could not. Rotting flesh, putrid and burnt. Sweat and vomit mixed in with the minerally dirt. Her tongue flared up next as copper permeated the rest of her senses, overwhelmingly strong. And the fear; she caught herself against a tree as it engulfed her, making her lose the contents of her stomach.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The girl was at the edge of the clearing, with the gruesome scene of battle right in front of her. Her eyes moved fleetingly across everything, afraid of what she might find. What was once the site of a lively campsite was now demolished in a mess of guts and spoils.
The earth had turned over to create trenches and hiding spots. Dead bodies and dismembered limbs were scattered across the ground, decorating it with a gruesome excuse for peace.
It was quiet. Too quiet. The calm before the storm.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
She spotted movement from the corner of her eye, followed by a low groan of pain.
James. Her heart lurched.
A head of blonde curls bobbed from behind a mountain of dirt. The girl reached behind her for her pack, realizing it lay abandoned on the battlefield. She spotted it twenty-something meters away to her right.
Her eyes squeezed shut. The girl wasn't sure if it was safe to venture out, but it was so quiet, and still, she reasoned the worst of it had passed. She made up her mind; first, the pack, then the wounded soldier.
With her arms pumping rhythmically, she ran. Five, ten, fifteen meters out. The girl skid to a stop, bending to grab the pack. Instead, cold metal kissed her temple, and she stopped breathing.
Her terror-stricken eyes met dilated blue ones. Her pack perched on the edge of what resembled a small trench, hidden from the rest of the clearing. Several soldiers sat hunched over, brandishing various weapons. Bucky Barnes lowered his rifle as gut-wrenching fear overtook his face. He shook his head vigorously, reaching up to grab her, but she stumbled back on her arms, clutching the pack to her chest.
The girl swallowed the sob threatening to spill over. Bucky was alive and safe, though a bit roughed up. She looked to her left at the blonde soldier immobilized by his injury, and Bucky followed her gaze. She noticed the moment it clicked for him, and she made her decision on the spot. She only hoped her eyes accurately portrayed her feelings.
Bucky's mouth opened in a silent scream of her name, and he leapt from his spot, tossing his weapon to the side. Andrew Eaton grabbed Bucky by the shoulders and yanked him back to safety. The girl took that opportunity to scramble to her feet. Behind her, Bucky's muffled shout echoed in her ears.
"He's okay," she reassured herself. "Bucky's okay."
The wounded soldier was lying on his front, eyes closed and motionless. She fell to her knees, placing two fingers against his windpipe. There, faint and irregular, an indistinct pulse was striving to intensify.
The soldier was alive. Good, she thought, I can work with that. His dog tags peeked from under his coat: Matthew Miles Davidson. Frantic hands ran over his body, feeling for a wound. Her hand came away wet, and she discovered his pants soaked with blood. Bracing herself on her knees, the girl rolled Matthew over with a groan.
"Sorry," she whispered when he moaned in anguish. "I'm sorry." Producing a pocket knife, she cut the fabric away from his right thigh, displaying his injury. Puckered skin oozed a steady flow of red, painting her hands. She laced her fingers together and pressed against the opening, using her entire weight to stop the blood.
The girl's thoughts were in overdrive, swiftly taking in and storing information. No exit wound, meaning the bullet was still inside. Matthew was faintly moving, his chest rising and falling with every breath. The girl decided she would remove the bullet, bandaging the wound before dragging him past the trees for cover.
However, over the adrenaline rushing through her ears, she did not realize another fight had broken out. Someone shouted from a distance, and the girl pulled away, unbuckling Matthew's belt and folding it in half. She needed to clean his wound, and since the morphine was in a different pack, with the rest of the medicine, Matthew was going to feel everything.
He was slightly more lucid now, staring at her, so she grabbed his face and urged him to listen. "Bite down on this, Matthew." And he obediently followed her direction.
"Good, you're doing very good." She ran a hand over his hair, cooing with a sad smile. "Don't make any noise, okay?"
The girl retrieved a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a large roll of bandages. She had tweezers in her pack for removing the shell, needle and thread for the other gashes. Those she kept in the kit and moved out of the way. Uncapping the rubbing alcohol, she liberally poured some over her hands to sanitize them before positioning the bottle over the laceration.
"This is going to hurt," she warned Matthew before tipping the bottle over.
The second the ethanol breached his wound, Matthew let out an ear-splitting scream, despite the sound being muffled by his belt. He writhed on the ground, body spasming in pain.
His groans of agony cloaked the racket of the fight around her, making it so she couldn't hear the tank powering up.
"You're okay, Matthew!" she cried.
From her right, someone screamed, and a solid form collided with her, tackling her to the ground. The night sky turned a light blue, flashing white for a brief moment, and the girl raised her head. In her spot, where she sat just a second ago, tending to Matthew's wounds, was air. No supplies, no pack, and no Matthew. The only evidence that something, or someone, had been there was the roll of bandages in her hand and the blackened earth outlining the shape of a body.
Looking to her saviour, she didn't know if she should be grateful or ungrateful that her life was spared.
"You're okay!" Bucky cried, roaming his hands over her body, feeling if she was alive and well. "Fuck! I told you to fucking stay there!" He craned his neck to witness his men steadily losing ground, unmatched by the enemy and their technology.
When Bucky turned toward the girl, the fear in his eyes left her paralyzed. Panic-stricken hands ripped at her clothes, and at first, she was too shocked to react, but as the feeling returned to her limbs, she protested against him.
Bucky smeared a handful of dirt over her face, covering her eyes and lips. She clawed at his chest, trying to stop him, but he forced her back. They were still on the ground, him on top of her, leaving her immobilized.
Then he grabbed the bandages and lifted her undershirt to wrap her chest. "Stop," she whimpered. "Bucky, stop."
He didn't listen.
"James," she pleaded.
And there was that damned name again. Bucky stopped, looking into her eyes to see his terrified form reflected back. "We're losing," he rasped.
No further explanation was needed when Bucky looked at her like that. The girl heard all he wanted to say, saw all he wanted to do, and felt all he begged to show. She relaxed her body, giving him all her trust, and let him do what he did best.
That night the moon witnessed the girl surrendering to Bucky Barnes. That night, he saved her.
The air reeked of secretion. The girl didn't know why she found that detail so surprising. What else was a prison supposed to smell like if not human feces, fear and hopelessness?
She didn't remember the ride over. Shortly after surrendering, they were herded, like cattle, into armoured trucks. Masked men pulled her away from Bucky and tied her hands behind her back, shoving her into a separate truck.
The drive wasn't long, and in a few hours, they were stopping. When a guard pushed her and nine others into a dark cell, she fell to her knees and cried. Fortunately, Andrew Eaton was in the same cell as her, and he pulled the girl to him, muffling her sobs against his chest. Her high-pitched wailing was sure to catch someone's attention.
War was not kind to men, even less to young women. If they caught her, what would they do? She remembered the fear in Bucky's eyes as he frantically concealed the weight of her breasts, flattening them to resemble a man's. She decided she didn't want to find out.
The girl fell asleep in Andrew's arms wishing she was in Bucky's embrace instead. But Andrew was cold, and no matter how hard she tried, her imagination could not do Bucky justice.
In the morning, guards came for them. A burly-looking German soldier explained to her group in broken English that they were going to be put to work. Weapons manufacturing. "How does it feel?" he asked, "that we'll be killing your brothers with the weapons you make for us." They laughed amongst themselves, then pointed their guns at her and the prisoners, putting them to work.
Nights passed miserably. Andrew assured the girl Bucky was somewhere in the facility, in one of the cells scattered across the vast space, though that did little to calm her. She cried herself to sleep, body aching from the laborious work forced upon them.
By morning, the news spread. Men were being taken away.
A foul-faced officer was picking soldiers at random, plucking them away. "Hitler's right-hand man," someone sneered. "The devil incarnate," another cowered.
Andrew kept the girl tucked away against him, shielding her from wandering eyes. The dirt on her face had washed away, her hair loosened from her braid, bindings slack. She finally looked like a woman.
She saw the proof of it etched on Andrew's face when the guards came near. It was yet another night, and she was resting her head against the thick bars of the metal prison when she heard them. Andrew tried to hide her, but space was limited, and the devil's keen eye landed on her before she could move.
"What have we here?" A man with a drooping face and quizzical brow bent down to look at the girl. He grabbed her jaw in a rough grip through the bars when she attempted to crawl away. "Ah!" he exclaimed fervently, digging his nails into her skin until she whimpered. "A girl?"
His free hand went to her neck, dropping lower and lower until she protested, pushing him away. "No!"
The man raised a brow. "How did you manage to slip through, Mäuschen?" He gestured to the guards behind him, who marched forward to open the bars. "Let's find out, shall we?"
"Don't touch her, bastards!" Andrew shouted, pulling her back.
The girl wanted to stop him, but she became paralyzed with fear. The men had guns and long sticks—Andrew had nothing but his wits about him and a pair of worn fists.
The next few events happened in quick succession. A muscle in the devil's face twitched, his smile momentarily dropping, which he swiftly schooled. "Das Mäuschen has a protector? What a waste." He shrugged carelessly. "No matter. Always more where he came from."
A bang resounded, and Andrew fell backwards, eyes wide and unmoving. Someone screamed, loud and shrill. It wasn't until a guard whisked the girl away that she realized it was her screaming.
The prisoners shouted in protest as she passed by them. From amongst the hoard of fury, a pair of blue eyes met hers, two hands grasped cool metal, and two lips parted to call out her name. The girl craned her neck to look, but heavyset doors closed behind her before the voice could reach her ears.
She closed her eyes to block out her surroundings, and when she finally reopened them, it was the next day.
His name was Arnim Zola—Dr. Arnim Zola—and he was a scientist working for HYDRA. That's where they were held captive, the Doctor divulged, at one of the many facilities HYDRA owned across the continent.
The Doctor passionately described the importance of the work done at HYDRA while the girl was bound to an exam table. "How lucky that you will not only be alive to see HYDRA shine, but you will also take part in it." He checked the girl's pulse, jotting something down on a clipboard. "We lost many of the men. They all fight the effects. It will be interesting to see how a woman fares, don't you think?"
She was too tired to struggle, and when the Doctor injected a burning liquid in her veins, she found she was too tired to scream.
The world turned black.
When she came to, however long later, Dr. Zola was hunched over his desk, shuffling through papers while muttering under his breath. "How is this possible? I gave her a larger dose."
The burning had turned to ice in her veins, and she shook violently against her restraints as she shivered. "Please..."
"I don't understand. Are you sweating it off?" Then he hummed. "I will need more tests." And her world turned black once again.
How much time had passed? Days? Weeks? Months? The girl could not be sure of anything other than that the cold in her veins had found a home in her heart.
"Immune," she heard the Doctor repeat. "Nothing is working."
She was counting the marks on the wall of the tiny room she was locked in when Dr. Zola approached her one day. "Herr Schmidt wants me to dispose of you," he told her. "But I think you can serve us yet."
She turned away from him and closed her eyes, trying to ignore him.
"That prisoner. What was his name? The one who died protecting you?"
Andrew. The girl opened her eyes and looked at Dr. Zola with distrust.
"He made me wonder if the others would do the same."
"They won't," she told him, trying to hide her desperation. "I'm only a nurse."
Dr. Zola snickered mischievously, slowly backing out of the small room. "We will see about that."
That night they brought the first prisoner. Someone she did not recognize. "Do as I say, and the girl will remain unharmed."
He spat on Arnim Zola's face. "Go to hell, you son of a bitch!"
The Doctor wiped away the drool with a wry smile, gesturing to the soldiers holding the girl still. "No!" she managed to shout before they plunged her face into a bucket of ice water.
She held her breath at first, hoping to bide some time before they pulled her out, but as her heart raced and the grip on her arms tightened, she couldn't help it any longer. She began to thrash, shaking and sputtering as the water invaded her lungs.
After what felt like an eternity, she tasted fresh air, heaping lungfuls to ease the burn in her throat.
The prisoner thrashed against his restraints, screaming profanities into the air as Dr. Zola injected him with a blue substance.
"Stop resisting!" the Doctor demanded. "You'll ruin the transformation!" He turned toward the girl. "Do you want her to die?" he asked the prisoner. "They'll kill her."
The prisoner screamed louder.
"Again!" Dr. Zola ordered.
The girl managed to take a deep breath before they plunged her into the water again, not that it helped. The torture went on for the rest of the night. By the last hour, the prisoner had died, lying in a pool of vomit.
The next night they brought the second prisoner. Someone she did recognize. "Do as I say, and the girl will remain unharmed."
"Jeremy? No!" the girl began to cry. "No, not him!"
"Miss?" Jeremy looked at Dr. Zola with indignation. "Let her go."
"Do as I say," Zola repeated, "and I will."
"Go to hell."
And so it began.
Though, It did not last very long. When the girl screamed for the first time, Jeremy Bradshaw gave in. "I'll do it. I'll do anything. Just let the lady go."
Zola smiled victoriously. "Now, that wasn't so hard. Was it?"
A few hours later, Jeremey's heart gave out.
"He was weak," Zola proclaimed. "We need someone stronger."
The next night they brought the third prisoner. Someone she knew.
The girl had prepared herself this time. She wouldn't cry or scream out; she would fight! But none of it mattered when she saw the person standing before her.
War was not kind to men, and this one was proof of it. His hair was longer, touching the tips of his ears, and a light beard covered most of his face, making him almost unrecognizable. Almost. His piercing blue eyes stayed the same.
"James," she whispered. Tears gathered in her eyes, waiting for the moment he saw her.
"Do as I say, and the girl will remain unharmed."
Bucky screamed the moment he did, mouth open in rage. The girl wondered what he saw when he looked at her. Was she as haggard in appearance as him? She sure felt it.
Bucky threw the soldiers off him, shouting her name as he ran toward her. He came to a halt when someone put a gun to her head, and the soldiers took the opportunity to restrain him once again.
"Yes, you are strong, indeed. Now, will you do as I say?" Zola asked.
"Eat shit, cocksucker."
Bucky was being so strong. So could she.
When the soldiers grabbed the girl, she was ready. She kicked one of them between the legs, and when he loosened his hold, she bit the hand on her shoulder. She must have made it two steps before they restrained her again.
She heard the buzz before she could feel it, and an unbridled scream left her. Electricity travelled up her spine, burning a pathway through her nerves. Her muscles went lax, and she fell, convulsing on the cold floor.
"No," she whimpered as they administered another shock through a small black device. But they were unrelenting, kicking her half-conscious form while she was down.
Bucky roared in rage while they abused her, but he could do nothing but watch as they gave her another electric shock.
"I'll kill you sons of bitches! I'll fucking kill you!"
Zola injected Bucky with the blue liquid. "Relax your muscles! Let the transformation take over."
"Fuck. You!" Bucky seethed.
The girl crawled toward him from her position on the ground, dragging herself by her nails. The soldiers followed leisurely, laughing at her pathetic attempt. The next shock made her throw up. Bile and stomach acid; since she hadn't been able to keep anything else down.
"She'll die, Soldier," Zola warned Bucky. "There's only so much a person can take."
Bucky stopped thrashing, briefly looking at the girl before addressing the Doctor. "What will you do to her?" he asked, unconcerned for himself.
"Will you hurt her?"
Zola smiled, knowing he had won. "As long as you do as I say, I promise she will remain unharmed."
The girl began to cry. "Don't give up, Bucky. I can take it."
"—No, she can't," Zola interrupted.
Their eyes met, and the girl knew Bucky had made up his mind. "I'll do anything." He slumped against his restraints, giving over his control. Before the Soldiers dragged her away, Bucky mouthed three words that shattered her completely. "I love you."
The doors closed before she could mouth it back.
Bucky Barnes was in shock. He had to be. That was the only reason he was on his feet after a week of hell, feeling only slightly bruised and fatigued. Yes, it was the shock that kept him moving, and not whatever it was the Doctor injected in him.
"Did it hurt?" Bucky asked, only slightly stumbling.
"A little," replied Steve Rogers. The same Steve Rogers Bucky remembered being at least two heads shorter.
"Is this permanent?" Bucky took in the striped shield, the muscles hidden by leather.
Bucky chuckled, pressing his chest to feel his heart beating wildly within.
"The exit's through here," Steve gestured.
Bucky pulled him back. "Wait. I have to find someone first."
Bucky stared at his friend for a moment, hesitating. Steve didn't know the girl was with him. She never told anyone where she was deployed. Bucky whispered her name before clearing his throat and saying it louder.
He saw the surprise on Steve's face slowly morph into determination. "What are we waiting for, then? Let's get her."
They found her quickly. She was in an unmarked room on the second floor, hiding underneath a small blanket. Steve stayed behind, and Bucky entered the dark space with careful steps.
He heard the girl whimper in protest and scurry closer to the wall. "Not again. Please!"
Bucky bent down, and what he saw made him pause. He almost didn't recognize the girl with her sunken face and pale skin. She had lost weight, and her clothes were hanging off of her, but her eyes were what broke him. Wide and distrustful. Lifeless.
Bucky wiped his tears away, determined to stay strong. "Come here. I've got you."
The girl crawled farther away as if trying to embed herself in the wall. Bucky grabbed her face with both hands. "Look at me. Hey! Look at me, doll. It's Bucky."
She finally met his eyes, and Bucky saw the moment she recognized him. "James?" she sobbed, clutching his shirt in a weak grip. "You're here!"
Bucky lifted the girl in his arms, keeping her close to his chest. The first thing he noticed was how cold she was; the second was that she weighed almost nothing. When Bucky stumbled out, unsteady on his feet, Steve grabbed her from him, exchanging the shield for her. "Reserve your energy. We've got a long way to go."
"Steven? Am I dreaming?"
Steve laughed sadly. "No."
"You're big now," she sighed. "What happened?"
Steve shrugged. "I joined the army."
"I always knew you would."
They all laughed, happy for a moment that they were reunited. But danger was near, Bucky could feel it, and his smile dropped. Around them, parts of the building exploded, making the ground shake.
"Quick! Through here!" Steve shouted, taking two steps at a time, and Bucky tried his best to keep up. They were so close. He could feel it.
"Captain America!" A voice shouted, stopping them. "How exciting!"
Steve lowered the girl to her feet, grabbing his shield from Bucky and taking a fighting stance.
When Bucky realized who the strange voice belonged to, he pulled the girl behind him, shielding her from view. It was him, the man who dragged her away all those days ago. Bucky couldn't tell then, but it was apparent now that he was a high-ranking officer. Perhaps the mastermind behind this whole operation. Zola stood next to him, cowering behind a large briefcase.
"I am a great fan of your films!" mocked Johann Schmidt. "So, Dr. Erskine managed it after all. Not exactly an improvement, but still, impressive."
Steve and Schmidt were at arm's length, and the Captain did not hesitate to swing at Schmidt. The man stumbled back, clutching his face in surprise.
"You've got no idea," Steve huffed.
"Haven't I?" And Schmidt took a swing of his own, putting a fist-sized dent in Captain America's shield.
"Steve!" The girl screamed from behind Bucky.
The two began to fight, and Bucky had to keep her from running toward their friend. "He's got it," he told her; and he did.
Steve kicked Schmidt, sending him back a few feet, and Zola stepped forward. He pressed a button that collapsed the bridge Steve was on.
"No matter what lies Erskine told you," Schmidt exclaimed. "You see, I was his greatest success!" He peeled the skin off his face, revealing red flesh underneath.
"You don't have one of those, do you?" Bucky found himself asking, a bit dizzy from the incident. He held the girl tighter against him when she started shaking like a leaf.
Schmidt made a closing remark that went over Bucky's head, and he and Zola left. An explosion caused the trio to stumble, forcing Steve into action. "Come on, let's go. Up."
Bucky pulled the girl along, and they went up a floor, stopping in front of a metal beam.
"Let's go. One at a time," Steve urged, helping Bucky over the railing.
"What are you doing?" the girl shouted over the loud explosions.
"There's no other way!" Bucky told her. "Stay behind me."
Steve helped her over the railing next, and Bucky grabbed her.
"I can't!" she shook. "I'll fall."
Bucky pulled her close. "Don't look down. Why are you looking down? Look at me."
"Yes! One step at a time, alright? Steve's right behind you." The beam quaked with every step, but Bucky did not slow down. He tossed the girl over the railing and leaped the rest of the way; right before the beam fell from underneath him.
Bucky's stomach dropped. There was no way for Steve to cross. "There's gotta be a rope or something!"
"Just go!" Steve cried. "Get out of here!"
"No! Not without you!"
Steve hesitated before backing up as far as he could and making a run for it. Bucky's stomach dropped, thinking Steve wouldn't make it, but then he emerged from the smoke and landed safely on his feet. The trio ran.
The half-moon was low in the sky when they made camp after two day's journey. It was late, and the prisoners were tired. Bucky made his rounds, checking the perimeter and the tents for anything suspicious.
The Battle of Azzanno was still fresh in his mind, and despite Steve's reassurances, Bucky could not let down his guard.
"How is she?" Steve asked Bucky.
Bucky didn't know the answer. "She won't talk to me," he said frustratedly. "She says she's fine, but I can see she isn't."
Steve sighed, having expected that answer. "And how are you?"
"Yeah. You both went through something traumatic." Steve grabbed Bucky's shoulder. "Talk it out, why don't you?" and left with a reassuring smile.
Bucky found the girl in one of the smaller tents, huddled in the corner for warmth.
"I was waiting for you," she admitted.
Bucky let a small smile grace his lips. They had come a long way. "Not too long, I hope."
"Very long," she rebutted. "I'm all cold."
Something in the girl's expression hinted at something deeper, something permanent. A rawness that she couldn't hide. It made Bucky's eyes burn. "Let me warm you up then." He fell to his knees and embraced her, holding her trembling body as tightly as he could.
The girl craned her neck and looked at Bucky with teary eyes. "Are you okay?"
Bucky took a second because he didn't know. Was he okay? He adjusted his hold until the girl was in his lap, snug against his front. "No, I'm not," he decided. "But as long as you're here, I will be."
Her hair was open, so Bucky put his forehead against the soft strands and closed his eyes. "Are you okay?"
The girl took a shuddering breath. "I—I was scared, and I—" She sobbed once, then twice. "No, I'm not okay!" And she began to weep. Agonizing sobs shook her entire body.
Bucky held on tight, whispering reassurances until, however long later, she eventually settled. "But I will be," she hiccuped.
The two sat silently for a while before she shifted to face him. Bucky wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her steady and caressed her face. "I love you," he whispered, leaning in until their noses brushed.
Her eyes pierced his, conveying all she felt, and she softened in his arms. "James."
And there was that damned name again. Bucky pulled her toward him, closing the small distance between their lips.
Oh, she was soft, putty under his skilled mouth. He groaned, pressing closer until the only thing separating them were clothes. "Sweetheart." He tasted her lips with his tongue, asking for permission which she swiftly granted.
"James," she whimpered against him, clawing at his jacket for purchase. They kissed until she became breathless, reluctantly pulling away with a moan to fill her lungs.
Bucky felt his heart beating out of his chest. "I'm here," he vowed, "I'm right here. Never leaving you again."
Her pleasure-stricken face met his with an intensity that left him more breathless than her lips had. "James, I love you."
And Bucky knew in his soul that all would be well. He took her lips once again, sealing his promise with a kiss.
Comments and Reblogs are greatly appreciated!! 💜
@marvelatthetwilight @hallecarey1 @ria132love
pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x gn!reader, Steve Rodgers x gn!reader, stucky x reader, avengers x reader
summary: You were Bucky and Steve’s whole word but they couldn’t keep you from crashing down like the old times, while fading away in the battlefield that you singlehandedly owned in the platinum white icy snow forever their snow Angel. —advent calendar; day 4—
word count: 1.3k+
warning(s): blood, death in detail, angst, violence, Poly relationships, injuries In detail, no happy ending, peak of survivals guilt, reader has powers, tears, pet names, kisses, and language
A/n: —GIFs; @buckysbarnes & @lizzie-olsen— So I’ve been holding out on you guys, because I’m like the biggest angst writer ever and I haven’t written a lot of angst on here so.. preparing you guys for some heartbreaking 2023 content 🤭
You stumbled away from the scene of dead hydra agents surrounding you the pain in you ribs becoming unbearable while the team celebrated their minimal damage victory
You’d had broken ribs plenty of times at least when you were younger and didn’t know the full potential of your powers but even then it didn’t feel like how it felt now in the moment
You clutched your side tight the pressure making you wince you didn’t need to bring your hand to your line of sight to know that a thick crimson would be staining your hands staring back at you
You clutched your side tight the pressure making you wince you didn’t need to bring your hand to your line of sight to know that a thick crimson would be staining your hands staring back at you
Your legs began to falter under your weight but you kept standing anyhow too stubborn to let yourself drop in surrender as you tried to control your breathing and focus on the wound at once to heal
Bucky was the first to notice your disappearance, how could he not you were the woman of the hour after all saving the teams asses like you always did even if you weren’t he would still notice.
Steve feeling a pull on his sleeve looked over to the brunette not expecting you to not to be by his side and couldn’t help but furrow his brows and the look on Bucky’s face just justified the fact
You could see your breath carry away in the cold winds your vision began to blur and sting with tears as result a current of waves pushed against your skin a little to hard and you knees having in a buckled as you tipped over like a tree landing flat on your back the sparkling snow acting as a pillow
You felt like you were taking a really long blink because by the time you opened your eyes again Bucky and Steve sat closely next to you your head propped up on Steve’s lap you were still in Finnland the cold dampness of your suit and the flurries on your eyelashes confirmed the fact
“Hey doll, y-you gotta keep your e-eyes open okay?” It was more a statement than a question while you felt the grip Bucky had on your hands tighten as he tried to ground himself choking back on sobs how couldn’t he not have noticed sooner?
“The team is going to be b-back with quinjet soon I p-promise” You looked up at Steve while he tried to smile at you but it was watery and broken the connection to his cheeks and over his nose was pink and light red half from being the cold weather conditions and the other half from crying
You had never been this bad before and you knew it too
“You know, I love you both so much—” You whispered taking the limited strength you had to free away from Bucky’s hold while he were quick to let you go putting your hands on both of there cold cheeks swiping your thumb under their jaw
“No, no, no you stop that right now. You c-can tell us later, when y-you’re better” Steve protested cutting you off he’d never raised his voice at you Bucky either and he regretted it instantly but… why were you acting as if this was goodbye?
“I love you I do I swear I do. I never loved anyone as hard as I did until you both came along saving my miserable, loveless, void of a life. I want you both to move on, don’t spend your lives wishing go get it just like you’ve always have. I knew what I was signing up for, and I marked that line gladly knowing it would be by your sides.”
There was no holding the tears back now both men were full blown sobbing silently on occasion a sob would escape one of their throats and it broke your heart a little more to the point where you could feel your own tears slide down your cheeks temporarily warming your face
“Please doll not now, not yet. There’s so much shit we haven’t done” Bucky’s wall’s crumbled down as he pressed his head in your sternum your hand falling from his jaw to move to his hair
“I know. But we will another time honey I swear” That’s all it took for Steve to go crashing just along Buck bending his torso so he could press his forehead against yours
“Marry us.” The blonde whispered and you could feel Bucky shake harder against your stomach before the weight of his head lifting from your torso and Steve’s forehead followed lifting from yours
The next thing you knew Bucky had a small black box in your sight of vision with a skinny golden ring two small diamonds on each side surrounding the largest diamond in the middle and if you weren’t crying before you definitely were now
In your peripheral you could see Steve holding his box with a shaky hand to go along with the ring was a golden band with flowers, roses to be exact indented along its sides
“You askin’ me to marry You Barnes, Rodgers?” Despite the pain in your torso you were smiling bright. Brighter than a kid on Christmas morning and the men couldn’t help but produce a watery smile as well
“Yes.” As soon as the response slipped from your lips Steve was the first to grasp on to your hand slipping the band on your finger before gently handing it over to Bucky who did the same with the ring
You couldn’t help but wince at the fact that something so gorgeous and delicate was on your grimy hands but you smiled through the thought nonetheless
Your breath started to get caught in your throat as you coughed trying to clear you airway and it worked temporarily the only reason you were still this responsive was because of your abilities
“Doll you’re the best thing that’s happened to me doll, to us. I can’t believe you’d gave a tin man like me chance” You couldn’t help but giggle and it made the assassins heart flutter in his chest
“You’re the most amazing, beautiful, passionate women I’ve ever met and im so glad I’ve got to be, that I am apart of your life so here’s to my love, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen inside and out” Bucky’s chest hurt as the light in your eyes began to flicker dimming by the second
“You always believed in me when no one did, with or without the shield and I can never explain to you how much you made me the man I am. You’re the only reason I’m the man I am and that’s why it’s so incredible that someone so unforgettable thinks that I’m unforgettable too.” You’re slowing breath began to approach its stop and it seemed as time slowed
“Burry me I-in six inches of s-snow” You whispered
Steve and Bucky’s world crashed and crumbled at the same time your breath stopped. Why couldn’t it be one of them?
Steve sobbed and wailed over your corpse while your lifeless eyes stared back at him as for Bucky silent tears struck down his cheeks as choked on his own sobs almost as if he were punishing himself making himself feel what you did
The once pure white sparkly snow stained crimson with your blood as the two soldiers sobbed and mourned you died in ice cold snow it was almost something angelic about
You were their snow Angel forever and always.
social media au: winter holidays with bucky barnes
it's winter for them too and they are so in love ❄️🤍 + alpine cameo, enjoy! feedback and reblogs are appreciated!! ♡ social media au masterlist
liked by yourusername, steverog, nat_asha and 81 others
ice skating with my @ yourusername ⛸️❤️
samwilson: don't break a leg, old man
yourusername: that was fun 💙💙
wanda_m: "my" 🥺🥺🥺
liked by bbarnes, nat_asha, peggycarter and 94 others
very romantic (and cold) date with @ bbarnes ❄️
steverog: then wear gloves??? it won't be that cold with them
bbarnes: i can make you warm
yourusername: @ bbarnes i know 🙇🏻♀️💓
thorpartyboy: i want to make a heart like this too @ janeef
janeef: @ thorpartyboy we can do that!
yourusername: @ steverog shut up, stevie
liked by steverog, lokiloki, yourusername and 104 others
i love her more than anything 🖤 winter is warmer with you @ yourusername
lokiloki: that's to cute, even for you
yourusername: i love you, buck
steverog: so happy for them
samwilson: @ peggycarter is y/n pregnant???
peggycarter: @ samwilson 🤦🏻♀️🤦🏻♀️
bbarnes: @ samwilson no, she's not, sam
liked by bbarnes, wanda_m, janeef and 83 others
why is he like this?? and why is it cute??
samwilson: that's christmas spirit inside him
bbarnes: you love me like this
yourusername: @ bbarnes i do
nat_asha: is he trying to kick santa or something?
liked by samwilson, steverog, peggycarter, yourusername and 98 others
what are you doing young lady??
steverog: have you ever lost her in snow?
nat_asha: she's so pretty
samwilson: she has your eyes and y/n personality
yourusername: what are you doing to our daughter??
bbarnes: @ yourusername nothing, but she misses you 🐱
Give me a Bucky fic with an alternative girl plz :(
Im sick of reading like I’m a girl with long hair and average clothing
I literally have a purple mullet and wear dark clothes lol
Masterlist | Marvel masterlist |
Requested : no
prompt 33. “Don’t blame it on the alcohol, you tasted like you wanted me.” + 42. “You’re unbelievable cute when you’re tired.”
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x (they/them) reader
Type : fluff
Word count : 247
i’m so proud of you!! <3
“You know, you’re unbelievably cute when you’re tired.” Bucky commented, walking into the room, seeing Y/n now awake in the bed. “I’ve just woken up and you’re already flirting with me, you’re unbelievable.” they teased, sitting up and pecking his lips as he walked passed before getting up and heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Once they were ready and made their way outside to the kitchen, the smell of pancakes filled their nose, seeing Bucky with a floral apron around him causing them to snort. “What, don’t like my new look doll?” he questioned, smiling and flipping the pancake. “You look great.” they laughed, sitting on the stool in front of him.
He handed them their plate of pancakes, putting fruit on the table along with some sauces and syrups for the pancakes. “You know, we should probably talk about last night.” Bucky brought up after a few minutes, interrupting the silence that had set over while they were eating their food. They paused for a moment before their face heated up, flashbacks of yesterday coming to them. “Look, uh, we had a lot of drinks...” they lied, knowing he would know they were playing and it was a joke. He raised an eyebrow and smirked at them, knowing they were avoiding the truth. “Don’t blame it on the alcohol, you tasted like you wanted me.” Bucky exposed, making Y/n groan as he laughed at their reaction.
“So, what if I did?”
Summary: Your secret relationship is nearly exposed when Natasha spots Bucky's neck covered in hickeys.
Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x reader
Warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected rough sex, lots of hickeys, swearing, pet names, fluffy feels, very minor angst, protective natasha, avengers tower au, beefy!bucky (he needs a warning).
Word Count: 1.3k
Like, comment, and/or reblog to put a giant smile on my face ♡
“Hey babe, I’m really sorry,” Nat sat down beside you on the couch, looking at you with a sad smile.
You furrowed your brows, trying to process her words. What did she have to be sorry for?
“Because of you-know-who,” she subtly nodded her head towards Bucky chatting with Sam in the kitchen. He was laughing at something Sam had said, and despite the fact that he was wearing a hoodie, the hickeys on his neck were still visible. She knew you couldn’t miss those prominent love bites.
Nat was well aware of the giant crush you had on the dark-haired supersoldier, and she also thought that those feelings were requited. Bucky had seemed entirely enamored by you ever since you joined the team. She couldn’t believe he would do that, especially because everyone including him knew how you felt. You must have felt terrible about the whole situation.
“Oh,” biting your lip, you willed yourself not to react. Nat could read you like a book and you didn’t want her to know about the sordid details of this chapter. Not yet at least. “He’s a grown up, and he can do whatever he wants,” you stood up in haste, giving her a nod before walking back to your room.
She missed the wink Bucky shot you, and the way you smiled at the ground as you left.
Bucky assured you that the marks would heal fast, giving you free rein to do whatever you wanted to him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t fast enough.
“What the hell?” Nat muttered under her breath. She figured his actions must have hurt you so much that you couldn’t even properly react to it. Deciding to confront the man himself, she stormed into the kitchen, pulling out a chair and sitting next to Sam.
She glared at Bucky as he finished up his story, catching the eyes of both men. Sam exchanged a look with Bucky, neither having any idea why she was staring like that.
Bucky grinned at Nat cautiously, “What’s up?”
“She was literally in the room, and you couldn’t think to maybe pull your hood on, or wear a scarf?”
“Nat,” he tried to think of an explanation, but the truth wasn’t his to tell. You asked him not to. “It’s no big deal,” he lied.
His time with you was everything, and he couldn’t fight the flashback his brain had of you in his lap the night before sucking and biting his neck as you rode him. If only Nat could see the state of your chest and the marks that you had thanks to him, she’d know there were no hurt feelings.
Sam watched on, trying to keep his face neutral because he already knew about the two of you. He’d seen Bucky slip out of your room a few mornings ago, however he respected your privacy and kept your secret. Although, he had no problem teasing Bucky about it when you weren’t around.
“Live your life, but you could be more respectful of her feelings,” she said before standing up and leaving.
Bucky pursed his lips as he looked at Sam.
“Should’ve covered it up, man,” Sam smirked.
Nodding his head, “Yeah, for her sake.”
“What are you guys waiting for?”
He shrugged his shoulders, “I’m letting her set the pace, it’s up to her.”
“Fuck, Bucky,” you cried out as his powerful hips snapped into you at a relentless pace. The sheer look of pleasure and determination on his face made you shudder as you watched him take you apart. Your legs wrapped around his waist, an impulse for more; to be closer, to be consumed.
Metal fingers began to circle your clit, making your body contract beneath him.
“Oh baby,” you whimpered. He fucked you like a god, a self-assured divine being.
Bucky smirked, “Do you like that?” His fingers continued their sweet torture as he took what he needed. With each fierce thrust he brought you closer, to your end, to his soul.
Unable to speak, you watched your perfect man lose himself inside of you.
It hit like lightning striking your body, electrifying every nerve with blissful euphoria. You threw your head back as you heard your pulse ring in your ears, wet walls squeezing tight around his cock.
Unable to think, simply feeling the sensory overload.
He groaned out your name as his hips stuttered erratically. Pushing impossibly deeper, he came hard. Shuddering his release, pumping himself empty inside his favorite place.
Collapsing on top of you, he kissed you softly before turning you on your side as he stayed nestled inside of you.
Dark blue eyes connected with yours, his thumb dusting over your bottom lip.
Tangling your hands into his hair, you pulled him closer, pressing your lips to his. Tongue sliding between his parted lips, chest pressed against his, close.
This was where you were supposed to be.
Bucky pulled back and playfully started peppering your face with kisses. Down your jawline, all over your cheeks, on your nose, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling.
“Bucky!” you tried to grab his face. But he wouldn’t relent, gripping the back of your neck, kissing you until you were squealing in laughter.
He loved that sound, he adored seeing you so happy. How Nat could ever think that he’d go for any other girl was not something he could comprehend. Bucky only had eyes for you.
“Doll,” he kissed your lips before letting you catch your breath. He couldn’t wait any longer, he had to know. “What are we doing?”
“What do you mean?” you whispered.
“Why are we hiding this?”
You sighed. “Because I want this to be our thing for a while longer, we’re having fun aren’t we?” you grinned, not understanding his concern.
“Of course we are, but… this is more than just fun for me,” his eyes searched yours.
Oh this sweet, soft man.
“Then we’ll tell the team, we can tell anyone you want.”
“Really?” he beamed.
“Yes, really. It’s more for me too, I don’t want you to think for a moment that it isn’t. I didn’t want anyone casting doubts on us – but I’m sure about you, so it’s okay.”
“Thank you, I can only take so much mad-dogging from Nat,” he breathed a sigh of relief. Although, his true solace came from the knowledge that the feeling in his heart was reciprocated – he was damn well certain about you too.
“Right, because that’s your thing, isn’t it tough guy?” you teased. His penchant for staring often intimidated others, but you knew the kind-hearted man under the hard exterior.
Bucky narrowed his eyes, rolling you on top of him in one swift movement. His hardened length still inside of you told you that the time for talking had ended. Your hands fell onto his strong, broad chest as you held yourself up, ready to take him for a ride.
His fiery gaze landed on your breasts, the heat from his stare capable of scorching the earth. He ran his warm fingers over the fading marks he’d left from the night before, admiring them.
Desire flooded your body and when your eyes locked, an idea came to your mind. “Why don’t you bite my neck?” you raised an eyebrow.
He sat up, the offer one he wasn’t willing to pass. Bucky trailed his lips along your jaw, nibbling his way down until he whispered, “Only if you promise to bite me back,” he licked up your neck.
With a racing heart, you circled your hips before grinding down on him. “Deal.”
There was no point in concealing this connection that meant so much to the both of you. And as his teeth bit down on your skin, a rush of arousal ran through you. The sting of his possession, the way he felt so deep inside you; this was it.
The two of you would likely tell your friends the following day about your relationship – or they could just take a look at the matching marks on your necks that let them know exactly who you belonged to.
Hold My Girl
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Summary: Bucky comes home from a mission and needs time to hold his girl.
Word count: 2k
Warnings: So much fluff in Bucky’s pov <3
a/n: I love feedback!! Please let me know what you think, it gives me motivation to write more :) Got lotsss of inspo from the song ‘Hold My Girl’ by George Ezra.
Fall was a finicky season.
One day hot, the next a damp, dim breeze, the weeks that made up November were a myriad of change. You could smell it in the air and see it in the way the cars drove. Buildings kept their lights on longer, people walked slower; everything felt as if it were in limbo, waiting for the semblance of normality that would blanket the city when the sun finally left and took its morsels of warmth along with it.
In your apartment, the change wasn’t as obvious.
White sheets still glowed with pale light each morning. Plates still made crisp, ringing sounds each night—hot ceramic, straight from the dishwasher because Bucky couldn’t stand when they sat in there for too long. Footsteps echoed in the stairwell by the elevator. Laughs were low and plentiful, just murmurs drifting through warm vents when the moon was high.
Things were changing, but most stayed the same.
Bucky found a comfort in that as he trudged home from a weekend-long mission, body tired but already feeling lighter at the prospect of going home. At the thought of holding you.
Sam had talked about a home cooked meal. Steve had mentioned the gym. Natasha had gone on about some reality TV show she’d rather be watching. But nothing crossed Bucky’s mind other than holding you and watching a gloomy day turn dark, so he stayed silent as the others had reminisced about their versions of peace.
The mission hadn’t been too hard—a lot of heavy lifting, but nothing to call home about. He actually had called home (you), but he found there were about a million things he'd rather talk about than a broken down warehouse in the middle of a dirt field. Instead, he filled the time with your voice and your stories and the sounds you made rustling around the apartment.
Blankets shifted, cupboards closed, a window opened; you were living the life you two shared without him, and he strained his ears at each noise that gave him proof of that. God, he had wanted to go home, and now he was scaling the stairs to your apartment—his apartment—with a buzzing in his chest and an ache in his arms.
He checked the door first, rattling the knob in his hand and mentally praising you for keeping it locked. That had been a very long conversation between the two of you, the first time he had been able to walk in without a key making him feel sick to his stomach. It was true that in the world Bucky lived in, locks were simply a false sense of security. But he wasn’t one to take chances with you, so, the tiny piece of metal was to stay in place at all times.
It smelled like spices inside—like garlic, thyme, rosemary.
Bucky should have known you were going to make soup. It wasn’t raining, but if you looked outside there was no way to tell the difference between the moisture in the air and the water stuck in the clouds. A gray day with no delineation between the skyline and the ground.
The perfect day for soup, you’d say.
Bucky dropped his bag and toed off his shoes. He wore a sweater and a fitted pair of jeans, socks that trailed up his ankles under the seam of denim and no jacket. No gloves either—something very deliberate.
Low music played in soft tones from the kitchen; you hummed and Bucky rolled his sleeves up his forearms. He padded softly on carpeted floors until he saw your back, your shoulder, the way you wore your hair. He smiled for a private moment and indulged himself in the way you looked under the waning kitchen light.
And then you spun… spotted him and offered a melodic, “hi, baby!” as if those words weren’t a sucker punch to his already crumbling resolve. They were so quick to fall from your lips, a testament to the home Bucky had built and the roots he had laid down. He spotted two bowls on the table; two cups and two chairs placed next to each other and facing out toward the window.
He had a home here. He was wanted.
“You feeling okay?” you asked, a sweet furrow of your brows and an inquisitive tilt of your head bringing Bucky back to the present.
“Hi, honey,” he said in place of an answer, because that felt like an answer to him.
He stepped forward onto cold kitchen tiles and met you by the stove. He placed a kiss to your lips first, then your cheek and your nose. Each one had a smile tugging at your mouth and each one made Bucky’s bones feel like butter. He fought the urge to relax into you when you turned back to the pot, but then gave in anyway.
You were his girl, and he wanted to hold you.
Bucky’s chin fit fairly well into the crook of your neck, and his arms found their home in the dip of your waist. He breathed you in—breathed in the aroma of soup and the tinge of the weather still ingrained in his clothes—and let his lips fall against your skin, wherever they would reach. His chest felt glued to your back and he felt warm.
“I missed you,” Bucky said. His hands spread wide along your ribs.
“I missed you,” you replied. “Even though it was only a few days.”
“It’s worse when it’s only a few days. Spend the whole mission counting down the hours until I can come home.”
You hummed, leaning your head back onto his shoulder. You had a window propped open by the couch in the living room, and the slight draft shifted the curtains enough that Bucky could hear cotton brush against wood.
“What kind of soup is this?” Bucky asked after a few moments of listening to your heart.
You smiled, dipping a spoon into the pot. “Figure it out for yourself.”
“Just got back from work and you’re already makin’ me do more.” Bucky’s grumble made you laugh, and the sound was enough to make him close his eyes for a moment.
He almost missed the spoon heading for his mouth.
Buck had absolutely no idea what kind of soup you made. It was bursting on his tongue and tasted like what home felt like, but he had no idea what he was eating. He pretended to think, taking that extra time to nudge his nose against your cheek and listen to your breathy laugh, and then promptly made something up.
You snapped your head back to throw him a weird look. “Bucky, there are no noodles in this. And no chicken. That’s literally the entire name of the soup. Did you even try?”
“No,” he admitted, dipping his hands beneath the hem of your shirt and feeling the warmth of your skin. “Tell me what you made, baby.”
You could tell him he was eating stale bread for dinner and he would thank you. As long as you sat close enough for him to wrap his foot around the leg of your chair and drag you into his lap the minute you were done eating, he didn’t care what you made.
Bucky was contemplating how efficiently you could eat soup while sitting in his lap when you replied, “Hm… nope.”
“Nope?” he laughed, dragging you away from the stove while it simmered.
“Nope. If you aren’t going to try, your punishment will be to eat mystery soup.”
You spun in his arms as he leaned against the kitchen counter, palms laid flat on his chest. Bucky drew you in closer, one hand on the back of your neck, the other low on your back. A new song filtered into the room, and it was then that Bucky realized you must have bread in the oven as well. He could smell bread.
“Honey, I used to eat military rations. Nothing you make is a punishment.”
You went to speak—to quip back a warning, if that gleam in your eye gave anything away—but Bucky kissed you instead. He pulled you in and kissed you because you were so close and he couldn’t help himself. You smelled like the fresh linens that were folded up on the couch and the bread that was presumably in the oven and Bucky hadn’t kissed you in two days.
“Love you,” he murmured against your lips. “And I missed you.”
“You said that already,” you whispered, curling fingers into the stitching of his sweater.
“Only thing on my mind.”
The timer went off. It was that little one Bucky picked up for you when he went out of state for a mission. It was shaped like a pig and you twisted it around the middle to set the time. It looked completely out of place in the carefully decorated kitchen, but you kept it on the stove anyway.
“Muffins!” you smiled, and when you pulled away from him Bucky felt cold.
He could have sworn it was bread.
“Cornbread muffins,” you clarified, after you had set the pan on a cooling rack. “For the soup, duh,” you playfully rolled your eyes. Bucky apparently hadn’t concealed his confusion very well.
A few floors down, there was a bus on the street. Bucky knew you couldn’t hear it, but he could. The breaks hissed and he could hear the way the driver’s shoe sounded as it pressed into the pedal. He could make out the low conversations of its passengers.
Sometimes, things like that scared him. Not because of his abilities. Bucky was used to hearing and seeing things that others couldn’t.
It scared him because you couldn’t do the things he could, and there were plenty of times that he wasn’t with you. Plenty of times you were vulnerable. Plenty of times he couldn’t be ten steps ahead of everything.
So as you stood before him, not even an arm’s length away, Bucky reached for you again. He needed to hold you, at least until that stupid bus moved from underneath the window. He needed to hold his girl while the world was moving so quickly outside.
“Buck, they’re gonna get stuck to the pan,” you lightly argued, running fingers along his forearms—against his skin and not the sweater. “And I have to stir the soup.”
He grunted, unrelenting. You stepped forward, and he stepped too. Hands met your waist again, more possessive this time, and you gave into the feel. Dinner continued, but you did it with a shadow. The sky got darker, and you moved to the dining table.
You had turned the music off, instead opting for a comfortable silence and the bustle of New York through the cracked window. A dim evening had faded into a vibrant moon behind hindering clouds, and Bucky stood beside his chair and shifted his weight between his feet.
“Something wrong?” you asked, setting down the last bit of food in the center of the table.
He paused. “No.” But that didn’t sound right—not telling you the truth. “I just… you can say no, but would you wanna sit with me? While we eat?”
“Of course I was going to sit with you, Buck—”
“No, like—” God, he felt like a teenager asking a girl to the prom. “With me.” He motioned to the chair with a firm, metallic hand.
Your face softened immediately, just like he knew it would. That did something to him that was tough to explain. Maybe soon, in a life that didn’t require so much of him, he would be able to put it down in words.
You didn’t respond to his request, but that was okay because you smiled, and Bucky sat down as if you spoke real words. “Are you okay?” you asked, nestled between his arms and between his legs.
“Yeah,” Bucky responded. “Just needed to hold my girl a little more.” And then he added, “I love you,” because he kissed you before you could say it back last time.
You said it back this time.
warnings: 18 + innocence kink + age gap (readers in her 20’s, he’s in his mid 40’s!!) + breeding kink + daddy kink + house wife kink + jewelry fetish + cum play + slight degradation + overstimulation
summary : its always three
a/n : it’s probably one of the filthiest things i’ve written so be ware!!! my guilty pleasure without a doubt so why not write my version of him. i couldn’t be more proud of myself so i hope you enjoy <3
It was an innocent crush. School girl as some call it, without a doubt, harmless. You admired him in passing, when he was perched on your countertop in a conversation with your dad. You take in his appearance each time he was around you. He aged like wine and to say it was frustrating was an understatement. His laugh contagious, his smile vibrant and his existence was demanding. Fantasizing about him late at night in the comfort of your safe space. Imagining him between your thighs, his tongue tracing forbidden words, his hands wandering your body and the angelic melody that would leave his lips that would be on yours.
You were trouble.
He swore it wouldn’t happen again, but yet here you were once again under him as he rammed into you with no mercy insight. Meant to be a one time thing. A very drunk one time thing — that was over four months ago. It had been all the cabernet you two had consumed at his family's vineyard. The night filled with stolen glances, lingered hand grazes and a whole lot sexual tension filled that breezy night. He knew it was wrong. It was forbidden, you were forbidden.
His best friend’s daughter.
Every bit was passionate, hungry, and horrible all at once. He was in love with you and you well, were head over heels for him. Carved straight out of your diary from middle school. It was an all consuming, mind boggling, head spinning romance. Messy hands after his featherlike graze brushed against your back — an innocent gesture. Haunting kisses that lived on repeat in his mind late at night, on your balcony with a glass of wine. You were a breath of fresh air. When his lips met yours for the first time he never wanted to leave them. That night was everything he never knew he needed.
He never understood why you were interested in someone older, let alone all six foot something of him until he asked you one night.
It’s not older men, it’s you.
“Where can I touch you, bambi?” His words rushed through your veins. Close enough to feel the thump, thump thump as he pressed up against your chest. His lips exploring every crevice of his new found home. Holding you close, afraid you’d disappear from him. The warmth provides a sense of protection, comfort.
“Everywhere.” Hooded lids with glazed eyes, swollen lips and a golden halo. Far too gone under his spell to say anything else. You needed him like air.
His hands came to cup your cheeks, noses touching and mirrored expressions. “Are you sure?” He looked at you searching for a protest heart pounding louder than the first time he touched you.
His lips left a path of destruction everywhere he touched. The burning sensation trailed from your lips to your pussy. His tongue swirling your nipples and your fingers pinching the other. His teeth marking your impossibly hard nipples as he continued his trail.
“Fuck bambi, she’s pretty today. Is this mess all for me?” His eyes searching yours for the answer he so desperately needed to hear.
“Yes.” The whine hungry for his lips and desperate for his cock.
“Such a good girl, my pretty good girl.” His cold fingers roll your pebbled nipples, he bit his bottom lip and watched your hips buck in response.
“Do something, please.” You whimpered as you attempted to squeeze your legs together only to have his hands keep them open. He knew you needed him. He needed you more though.
“I’m right here, baby, i’m gonna take care of you. Promise” He swears as the top of his tongue meets your clit. Beg me.
His lips pressed against your clit tasting the honey that seeped out of you. He could watch you fall apart all day long. He ached for it. Each time you came he swore he met his creator. Angelic and sinful all in one. He swirled and nipped at your clit, two fingers sliding in and out of you as his arm held your hips down. The vibrations of the words mine, my pretty girl, need more permanently marked on your clit.
Your fingers running through his tousled hair demanding him to keep going, the faint taste of iron from your teeth biting into your bottom lip, and the angelic melodies of yours gracing his red tinted ears. He sucked harder and wrist worked faster to bring you to your orgasm, the one he knew you needed but in reality he needed more. It was his pride talking. His tongue carving Barnes on your clit in the promise of making you his. His kisses stamped on your inner thighs marking what was his. You were his.
His tongue slipping into your silk filled hole and his fingers now tracing Bambi and Barnes. You were sweeter than honey. The best thing he ever tasted. The second and close first was the mixture of him and you. His tongue swirling your hole needing you to cum. His efforts double in speed and strength pushing you over the edge and seeing stars.
“You’re such a good girl for me.” He crawls over you brushing the hair from your face and placing his lips on you. The taste of you now engulfing your taste buds and you needed more.
You fingers brush the tip of his cock before slowly wrapping your hand around him and squeezing him, “I need you.” Your voice is weak and vulnerable. His lips placing a gentle kiss on your forehead in response.
You needed to feel him. Feel him brushing against your g’spot. Feel him stretching you out. Hear him pleading for you to cum. You needed him all of the time. He was your addiction.
Bucky never got tired of kissing you while he filled you completely. You were under his spell. His cock grazed your throbbing clit, teasing your pussy slightly before he pushed himself into you.
“I wish you could see how pretty you are when you cum, Bambi.” He grunted, cock sliding in and out your warm neck as you continued to beg for mercy, brand his back and fill you up two more times. “Truly a sight, so be my good girl and cum for me just like daddy asked you when I tell you too.”
The filth leaving his mouth only made you wetter. The sounds bouncing around the room. The sounds of his cock meeting your pussy, the wetness from your last orgasm, the heavy breathing from him and your melody gracing his ears.
“Cum for me, Bambi, just liked daddy asked you.”
Your back arching off the bed and pressing impossibly closer to him as you came all over his cock. His pace never faltering as fucked you through your second orgasm of the night. He needed one more out of you before he could leave some of him in you.
“One more. Need’ya to cum one more before I can, baby.” His pace sloppy and hard. Desperate for one more release out of you. “Reach down and rub that pretty pussy for daddy. Can you do that for me? Or are you too fucked out to do that?” His eyes dark and hungry. The only answer was yes.
Bucky liked control. Having the power, he was dominant by nature. He liked it rough with sweet words and hungry kisses. His sole interest being you. Three words. Three different emotions for those three different orgasms.
“Look at me bambi when I talk to you. Open those pretty eyes so you can look at me fucking you, cumming for me.” His hand wrapping around your neck and applying the perfect amount of pressure.
“Wanna buy a house with you. Need to fuck you in every room, every surface as you scream for more. Beg for me, pretty girl. Gonna put a baby in you — fuck do that again, bambi.” He grunted out, as you clenched around him as repeated his movements and ran his vibranium up and down your thigh. Your fingers working fast and needy for him.
“Would you like that?” You whined in response, grabbing his face and kissing him fiercely with every ounce of passion.
“I bet you would, fuck I know I would. I’ll fuck every chance I get.” He slams his hips harder, “Wake you up by eating your pretty pussy, you’d be such a good girl for me whenever, wherever right?”
“Yeah need that, daddy.” You moaned into his parted mouth, grasping to feel something in his mouth. Each others moans being passed to one another.
“I’ll fuck you to sleep every night beautiful. I promise.”
“Gonna cum, Can I?”
“Go ahead, Bambi, mark me.” The husky voice spoke as you came again and watching you cum made him lose it. His pace never stopping as he fucked you through both of your orgasms. His movements slowing down, his forehead pressed against yours and a forbidden kiss.
He slowly pulled out of you which made you whimper, “I know beautiful. Just need to clean you up.” His eyes dilated. He could feel you dripping. He trailed down your body kissing every where he possibly could right before meeting the most inviting sight.
His lips trail along your thighs soothing the bruised marks he left behind earlier. His fingers scoop up the combination of you and him and press the cum back into you. Kissing you once more.
It was something beyond wildest dreams. Silk sheets, feathered pillows in your oasis. And this love was glowing in the dark, leaving a permanent mark.
“This is for you.” He leaned over and handed you a black box and an inquisitive look appearing on your face, “Just open it.” He spoke up from next to you as his fingers messed with your long legs.
It was gold and long. That held a B on it. His fingers removing it from your grip and place it on you.
“Now everytime your legs are over my shoulder you have something pretty to look at.”
♦️ Mob! Bucky Barnes x Chef! Reader ♦️
Your baked treats are suspiciously good and it attracts the mob boss’ attention.
CW: fluff, humor, obsession, meet cute, smitten Bucky, grumpy Bucky
A/N: Engagement is so low these days, I might not bother writing more, but I still really liked this idea, so here we go with this drabble ^^
Bucky Barnes masterlist || Peachy Sweet masterlist
When he took over the organization, he didn't think there'd be so many pleasantries involved.
Bucky hates these meetings.
While he knows some degree of diplomacy is required, he expected a lot less talking and a lot more killing. That at least, he can't mess up. It is second nature, after all. When the handle of a blade fills his palm, he truly feels home.
It makes the killer in him antsy, restless. What he'd trade for a good, old-fashioned hunt. A worthy chase. He misses it, the thrill that coursed through him whenever he cornered a target. The fear shining in their eyes, the realization there would be no tomorrow…
The prospect makes his blood sing.
He listens intently to Danny’s report, twirling the glass of brown liquor in his hand.
"We found out who the mole was." Bucky perks up, his attention fully drawn. Each of his men does the same, their faces tight. The sting of betrayal permeates the air, clogging the room even more than the lingering clouds of smoke. There’s been a rat in their ranks for too long. He's been feeding information to the FBI for weeks, ruining deliveries, delaying shipments.
Bucky’s mouth twists in contempt as pictures are tossed on the low wooden table brimming with manila folders and half-empty glasses of alcohol.
He takes in the face of the traitor.
Rumlow. He knows he should have erased every trace of the old organization, but the bastard did good work and never asked too many questions. Turns out it’s because he was too busy running his damn mouth.
"What should we do about it, boss?" Danny asks.
"Bring him to me. I’ll deal with him myself," he replies without hesitation, emptying his glass to its dregs before clenching his jaw.
But the unhinged train of Bucky’s murderous thoughts is halted when his gaze lifts to one of his henchman, Leo, humming loud enough for him to hear.
"What are you doing?"
The boy freezes. Dark crumbs line his mouth as he looks at his boss with wide eyes.
A nervous stutter spills from his mouth.
"Just…eating a brownie, sir."
Bucky squints at Leo, a deep scowl scrunching his features.
He slaps the brownie out of the boy’s hand who watches it fall to the floor with a dejected expression.
"Eating a brownie, huh? What do you think this is? The neighborhood bake sale?"
Another subtle moan rises to his left and Bucky’s gaze narrows to yet another one of his henchmen indulging in the sweet delights.
His voice trembles as he points at the plate of brownies.
"They are really good, sir. You should try one."
Bucky scoffs, disbelief fluttering through him as he notices how many of the brownies have already been eaten.
"Whatever. I swear to god if you don’t s-"
The mobster’s irate rant is halted when a brownie is shoved into his mouth by a henchman. Bucky frowns at the audacity, ready to end the meeting and commit murder on the spot, but…then the taste melts on his tongue, sweet and subtle. Heavenly. The scowl on his face eases as anger dissipates.
"Who baked these?"
"The new chef, sir."
His frown returns.
"New chef? What happened to the old chef?"
"He was…disposed of when we realized he was lacing the food with poison."
The henchman who spoke shifts awkwardly in his chair.
"You slit his throat, sir."
Bucky nods as slow remembrance sneaks inside his mind. He’s not sure how that memory escaped him. The man screamed a lot. It left quite an impression.
"Right, I forgot that."
The meeting resumes but Bucky’s mind is elsewhere. It’s not often he’s comforted by something as trivial as baked goods. This is uncanny; he needs to inquire more about this new chef.
He’d never slit your throat. Bucky’s sure of that.
Their intentions should be gauged anyway. Who knows? Maybe they too, will need their throat slit.
When the mob boss entered the kitchen, his intentions were clear. Interrogate or intimidate, most likely both. But when he gets a glimpse of your angelic face, wrinkled in focus while you cover a cake in chocolate frosting, Bucky feels like he’s being stabbed right through the heart. Over and over again. He could have collapsed right here and then.
And when you lift your head to smile at him - the most gorgeous smile he’s ever seen - Bucky knows he’s fucking lost.
I do not have a taglist anymore. Follow and turn up notifs for my sideblog @straytales to know when I post something new.
Instantly, he knows, he needs to have you, no matter what it takes.
Best friends (Stucky x Reader)
Stucky x virgin!Reader
Warnings: smut, smut, smut, smut
Summary: Bucky has this amazing idea to give your virginity to Steve while he watches.
A/N: Kinktober 2022
Bucky is your best friend.
Bucky is your best friend.
Bucky is your best friend.
Ugh, you could kill him with your bare hands right now!
"What?" Your voice fills the small kitchen of your apartment. The TV is muffled and forgotten in the living room. Your favorite mug lands on the counter with a loud thud. Hot tea splashes out onto the cheap surface. Your eyes are wide, and your breathing is ragged as you watch the two men at the doorway. Bucky and Steve stand beside each other with crossed arms and smug smirks.
Ugh, the urge to punch them in the face!
"This is my best idea ever!" Bucky almost shouts with excitement. You are sure even your neighbors can hear him.
"Okay," you breathe out with a feigned calmness in your voice."You lost your mind."
"I did not!"
"Then you have a stroke!"
"Don't be such a meanie!"
While you two argue, Steve continues to smirk and stare at you. Your leggings hug your legs deliciously while the worn t-shirt is bigger than you in several sizes. The fabric is familiar to Steve. It was Bucky's once. Your hair is a mess, and your face is free from makeup. The blonde man is sure he never saw you without lipstick before. You are still pretty. You are always pretty.
The mention of his name wakes him up from his thoughts. "Steve, there is no way you agree with him!" Your eyes are on the blonde man now, waiting for his reaction.
He shrugs, smirking. He is definitely not against the idea. "It would be so horrible?"
You open your mouth to answer but can't find your voice. Having sex with Steve? You are sure it wouldn't be horrible. Losing your virginity like this? Yeah, it sounds like a lifetime of humiliation and shame.
Your attention turns back to Bucky. "I can't believe you did this behind my back."
Worry flashes on the brunette's expression before he steps closer to you until he can reach your arms. His long fingers smooth along your soft skin, holding your hands in his warm ones.
"You told me you want to lose your virginity." Heat washes over your cheeks, and you don't dare to look at Steve, who is still at the doorway, watching and waiting. "I told you I would do it, but you are afraid it would change things between us."
"And you asking your best friend to have sex with me while you are watching won't change things?" You ask. Your voice is high and breathless.
"Well, you can trust Steve, and me being there is just an extra." A cheeky smirk pulls on his plump lips. Yeah, you know about Bucky's kinks and his history with Steve. And Steve… You know you can trust him. Even if you and Bucky are closer, thanks to the years you worked at the restaurant together, Steve is still your friend.
"Come on," the brunette coos, pulling you closer to his warm body. "It will be fun."
"You and I have entirely different ideas about fun," you groan. You still feel humiliated, but can't deny the slight throbbing between your legs.
"You say this because nobody ate you out before."
"Bucky!" Your whine is muffled by his chest, but their laugh is clear and loud.
"So, what do you say, sweet girl?" Steve's deep voice is right behind you, making you jump and gasp as you look over your shoulder.
"Are you sure you want this?" You ask him. You can't help but still feel a bit humiliated. Your best friend has to ask his best friend to take your virginity. It's not like you couldn't get laid if you want to, you just don't want someone you barely know but getting to know someone is not in your priorities.
Steve moves closer. He presses his hips to the small of your back where you can feel his hard answer.
"What do you think?"
"Okay," you exhale. "So… how… how are we going to do this?"
You can't believe you say yes to this madness, but here you are.
"Let's go to your bedroom first," Bucky answers, leading you to the small room with Steve still on your heels. "It will be more comfortable here."
Excitement and hunger roar up in your belly while you stand at the end of the bed. Steve is in front of you, and Bucky takes his seat on the sofa at the wall. A satisfied smirk plays on his lips, and in other circumstances, you would make sure to wipe it off, but right now, you are too busy with the other man.
Steve's arms slide around your waist, hugging you close as he stares down at you.
"We will start it slow, okay?" He asks quietly to not to break the moment between you. "And we can stop at any moment."
You nod. "Okay."
He dips closer until your lips meet. It starts softly. Your first kiss with Steve is barely stronger than a light brush on your tingling lips. Like a warm breath. A soft breeze. He moves back, and when he sees the impatient dizziness on your face, he grins and kisses you again. His tongue dances along your lower lip, nibbling on the soft flesh until you open your mouth, and he invades you, moving his hand to the back of your head. The slight pull on your hair makes you moan, and the kiss soon becomes all tongue and teeth. Steve feasts on your lips, letting his hunger for you lead him for long seconds.
"Was it your first kiss?" He asks. His breath fans over your face.
Bucky scoffs in the background, and you groan as you glance at your friend. "Shut up!" Then you look back at Steve. "No."
The story of your first kiss is a long story. Well, not that long, but rather awkward.
"Are you ready to go further?"
With a deep breath, you nod and let him take off your t-shirt. Bucky's t-shirt.
"Do you have a lot of Bucky's clothes?" Steve asks, letting the worn fabric fall on the ground. His gaze runs over your bare upper body without shame.
"She has all my sweaters," Bucky chimes in.
Steve chuckles and moves his hands to pull down your leggings.
"Oh, you, shut up!" You snap at Bucky again, stepping out of your pants. Your whole body burns under their heavy stare, but the light conversation helps you to stay calm and collected. You have to force yourself not to hide your breasts with your arms. Steve wouldn't let you anyway.
"Don't listen to him, Y/N," Steve says, cupping your jaw to pull your attention away from Bucky. "He is just jealous."
No. He is not. All three of you know that. Even though Bucky would love to participate, he enjoys just watching the same. Watching you getting bare in front of his hungry eyes makes him hard and horny. His half-hard cock is pressed against his jeans. You are just as beautiful as he imagined when you first mentioned your lack of sex life.
Steve kisses you again while his hand moves from your arms to your ribs until he cups your tits with both hands. He gropes them, playing with the soft flesh. His thumbs brush over your nipples, flicking and teasing the buds until they are hard under his rough fingertips. Your back arches, pushing your chest into his palms some more.
"Do you like it?" Steve asks. "Are your pretty nipples sensitive?"
"I…I guess." The words leave your swollen lips ragged. "Steve!" You cry out when he pinches and pulls on one of them. The light pain goes straight between your legs. Your clit throbs in sync with the beat of your heart.
"Oh, they are," he smirks smugly. "Let me have fun with them, sweet girl. Let me taste them."
He doesn't even wait for your answer. His lips latch on one of the hard buds, sucking it into his warm mouth. His teeth graze the sensitive skin, and his tongue flattens on the bud. He hollows his cheeks as he starts to suckle on your breast. Your hand is in his hair, pulling on the soft strands.
"Steve," you cry out his name. Your voice is whiny and impatient. Steve and Bucky groan at the same time. The brunette is still on the sofa, stroking his own cock through his jeans.
"Sweet girl," Steve chuckles, leaving your soft tits to kiss and nibble on your skin to stop under your ear. "What's the problem, Y/N?"
"I…" You don't know what to say. You need so many things from the man you don't know where to start.
"Yeah?" He teases. "How do you feel? Tell me."
"I… I'm burning and aching," you reply, tasting the words on your tongue. Your skin is too tight, and your pussy is too empty.
"Ah," he coos. "Our sweet girl is aching."
You notice the word 'our' but say nothing about it. You are too busy with Steve's wandering hands, and you don't hate the thought. Being their girl.
His arm curls around your waist while his other hand slips into your panties.
"Your pussy aching?" He asks, cupping you between your legs. His middle finger glides through your soft folds. You soak his hand within seconds.
"Take off her panties," Bucky orders hoarsely. He can't wait to see your sweet cunt. And the view of your naked body is prettier than he ever imagined. You step out of your panties automatically when Steve pulls them down on your legs. The apex of your thighs shines with your juices, and the blonde man's fingers are thick and long between your folds.
"Do you want to taste him, Buck?" Steve asks suddenly. Your eyes widen. Even though you agreed Bucky would stay on the sideline, the thought of him between your leg doesn't seem so horrible.
Steve smirks at your reaction and the slight disappointment on your face when Bucky walks closer but instead of falling on his knees, he takes Steve's fingers into his mouth. The view of your best friend sucking on another man's finger makes your pussy gush around nothing.
"I think she likes it," Steve states, pulling his fingers in and out between Bucky's lips. He makes sure he is wet enough with the brunette's saliva before gliding his hand back to your pussy. He opens you up while kissing you again.
"Such a shame he can't take care of you," Steve teases with feigned sadness. "Because, sweet girl, he is the devil himself with his mouth and tongue."
You moan and grind yourself against his hand. His palm grazes over your clit, smearing your wetness all over your pussy and mound.
"Lay down, baby," Steve says, breaking the kiss. "Let me taste you properly. I have to make sure you can take my cock into your pretty pussy."
You do as he says. Your whole body trembles as you let yourself fall back on your bed, legs open, waiting.
"Look at that, Bucky," Steve breathes out. "So pretty."
"And she tastes so good," the other moans. His eyes are on your pussy, amazed by the beautiful view of your juicy center and swollen tits. Your nipple still glistens with Steve's saliva.
"We will see," the man hums, kneeling down at the end of the bed. Soon, your legs are over his broad shoulders, and his face is between your legs. You hear him breathing in your sweet scent, and his groan runs through your spine.
"Steve," you cry. "Please."
"I'm coming, sweet girl, it's okay."
And with that, he laps up on your folds, gathering your wetness on his hot tongue. He licks and slurps on your folds until he finds your throbbing, aching clit. He closes his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking on it like he did on your nipples not long ago.
Meanwhile, Bucky stands next to the bed. His cock is free from his jeans, his hand around the thick shaft as he strokes himself. His movements are slow, savoring every moment of you moaning and begging for more.
"Don't forget your fingers, Steve," Bucky comments cheekily. "Don't forget what I taught you."
Wet, slurping sounds fill the room that stop for a second when Steve growls into your pussy with distaste.
"Oh, god," you moan. Your fingers dig into the cover under you, and your back arches away from the bed. It feels like Steve sucks the soul out of you, and you have nothing against the idea.
Steve's fingers soon find your entrance, propping the tight hole to stretch you out and get you ready for his throbbing erection. He makes sure he goes slow and soft, not wanting to hurt you.
"Cum, Y/N. Cum in Steve's mouth. Show him what that pussy can do." Bucky's order is sudden, but your body recognizes it immediately. Pleasure flares up in your veins as your chest swells with oxygen. Steve's grip on your hip is hard and tight as you grind against his lips and fingers. He devours everything you give him, slurping and drinking on your sweet nectar. Your thighs close around his head, keeping him in place until you are spent and dizzy. Small shocks shake your body when your orgasm ends.
"Did you ever make yourself cum like this?" Bucky asks. His hand is on the base of his thick cock, keeping himself from cumming.
Your breathing is rapid and heavy as you shake your head. No. And you are not sure you could ever do it.
When your legs fall from his head, Steve kisses up on your whole body until he reaches your lips. The taste of you on his dominating tongue is overwhelming enough to make you excited once again.
"Take it off," you murmur between kisses as you grab his shirt to tug on it. You feel his smile on your lips before he backs away to undress.
"You are so pretty," you hum, still dizzy after your orgasm. Both Steve and Bucky laugh at your loose tongue.
"You think so, sweet girl?" Steve smirks.
He really is. His skin is smooth on his broad muscles and the air gets stuck in your lungs when his jeans fall on the ground too. His cock is thick and hard. A bluish vein runs on the side of his shaft. The head is red and wet with pre-cum.
"That's pretty too," you admit quietly mostly to yourself, but Steve and Bucky hear you.
"Sweet girl," the blonde chuckles. "And what do you think about Bucky's dick?" He asks, moving up on you until your bodies are pressed against each other. His breath is warm on the side of your face. He leans on his elbow while his other hand caresses your side, drawing the underside of your breast and flicking the hard nipple.
Your gaze wanders to Bucky, who still stands at the side of the bed, cock in hand, eyes on you. His cock is thicker than Steve's, but not that long. His balls hang heavy and deliciously.
Licking your lips, you drag your eyes up on the man until you meet his lust-filled gaze. "Bucky's pretty too."
"What?" Steve asks, nibbling on your neck. His deep baritone rumbles over your heated skin. "What is pretty, baby?"
"She is already cockdrunk," Bucky laughs, but he can't deny the satisfaction your words cause in him.
"We are going to have so much fun with her," the man above you replies. "But first, I have to break that sweet pussy of hers."
His hand leaves your boob to grab himself between his muscled thighs. He drags his cock up and down over your folds, mixing your juices and soaking his length in your honey.
"What do you say, sweet girl?" Steve asks. "Are you ready to take me? This pretty little cunt is capable of taking my cock?"
"Yes," you rasp. The need is heavy in your lower belly. "Please, Steve."
The man coos, kissing the tip of your nose before pushing his erection against your gaping hole. He moves slowly and softly, pushing his cock into you patiently. He lets you adjust around him, making sure your tight walls stretch without causing pain.
"How do you feel, Y/N?" Bucky asks, watching your expressions.
A small grimace pulls on your lips. "It's uncomfortable."
"It will get better," the blonde man promises, stopping. His balls jerk at the urge to push into you fully and the force that keeps him doing it. "Tell me if it's too much."
"No," you reply stubbornly. "Move deeper, please."
"So polite," Bucky groans, kneeling on the bed to lean above you for a searing kiss. His movements are fast and forceful, drawing your attention away from the uncomfortable feeling between your legs. He fucks his tongue into your mouth, letting saliva escape between your lips while Steve pushes deeper. The slight pain is still there, but you don't have time to care. Letting yourself submit to Bucky's lips is more important.
When the brunette decides to back away, Steve is in you entirely. Your walls loosen around him, making you calm down and enjoy the moment.
"Are you okay, baby?" Steve asks.
"Yes," you nod rapidly. Excitement runs through your body. He can fuck you now. "Move, Steve. Please fuck me."
And he does. He goes slowly, moving in and out of you with small movements until he is sure you are really okay. Your legs curl around his waist, and your heels dig into his ass to urge him more. A breathy chuckle escapes his lips, but he does as you want. And finally, Steve is fucking you. He pounds into your tight hole, pushing his hips against yours while you moan and writhe under him. His strong arms cage you between his hard body and the bed. He uses your pussy, enjoying every flutter of your walls.
Bucky jerks himself in sync with Steve's thrusts. His fingers are tight around his length, imagining your hot cunt around himself. He can almost feel it, the hotness, the softness of your body, your mewls next to his ear. His lower belly tenses and his muscles are taut as he tries to hold himself back. He doesn't want to finish before you.
"Are you gonna cum?" Steve asks breathly. His hips snap against yours rapidly, chasing your orgasms with force. "Cum around my cock, sweet girl. Make a mess on it so we can mark you with our seed. Did Bucky tell you that? How will we finish? We want to cum on your skin, baby. We want to mark that pretty, tight body with our semen."
"Steve!" You cry his name. Your head presses against the bed, eyes closed. The man bites into the curve of your neck and shoulder to push you some more.
Electricity runs through your body as the hot coil snaps in your belly. Pleasure floods your senses, burning your veins and nerves. The world stops moving for long minutes. There is nothing but you and the delicious stretch in your pussy. You gush around Steve's cock, gripping him to the point he can barely move.
A hoarse groan breaks through his throat as he almost rips himself out of you in haste. His cum splashes on your folds, coating your pussy and mound. He can't tear his eyes away from the beautiful view. He can see your hole fluttering and begging for his cock.
Bucky's throaty groan seems far away even though his warm seed is on your skin, covering your hip and stomach. He can't wait to see your pretty face and tits soaking in his seed. Maybe next time. The moment his orgasm passes, he has other ideas to continue the night.
Your mind is still dizzy, and your body shivers and jerks with pleasure when you feel Steve's fingers around your ankle as he holds up one of your legs. "Are you ready for dessert, Buck?"