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sergeantbarnessdoll · 19 hours

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Naughty Girl » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Bucky punishes you for sending him dirty texts while he’s at work.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty texts, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, male masturbation, unprotected sex, rough sex, daddy kink, praise kink, breeding kink, choking, degrading, handcuffs, sex toys, Bucky’s dog tags, name calling (slut, whore), aftercare, use of pet names

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any kind of mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found this one on Pinterest.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

Bucky pulled his phone out of his pocket when it vibrated. He smiles widely when he sees a text from you.

Doll🩷: I want you

Bucky: I’m in a meeting, doll

Bucky shut his phone off and continued to listen to the rest of the meeting. His phone vibrated again. He opened the message to see a picture of you completely naked with your legs spread in front of a full body mirror the two of you just bought, making his eyes go wide. Bucky shifted in his seat, feeling his cock get hard. He completely forgot he was in a meeting. His mind wandered elsewhere. Like how he was going to punish you when he gets home from work.

“You ok, Buck?” Steve asks.

“Uh huh, yea.” Bucky says, clearing his throat.

Bucky shut his phone off and put it back in his pocket. When the meeting was over, Bucky left the Avengers Compound and raced home, zooming through traffic on his motorcycle. Bucky slammed the door to yours and his apartment, walking straight to yours and his shared bedroom in search of you. He found you lying on the bed completely naked.

“Care to explain why you sent me a naked picture of yourself while I was in a meeting, babydoll?” Bucky asks, taking his jacket off and threw it somewhere in the bedroom.

“I was horny, daddy.” You answered. “I still am.” You say.

“Tell me, babydoll…” He approaches the bed. “Did you touch yourself?” He asks.

“Mhmm yes.” You hummed.

“How many times did you cum?” He asks.

“Two times.” You tell him.

Bucky licks his lips and sat down on the bed. He practically manhandled you to get you to lay across his lap.

“Since you decided to act like a slut when I wasn’t home, I’m going to treat you like one.” Bucky says.

His right hand rubbed across your ass cheeks before he landed a harsh smack on it, making you moan. He landed another smack on your ass that was harsher than the first one. Bucky spanked you eighteen more times. Your pussy was dripping by the time he was done spanking you. Your ass was red as a cherry with his hand print on it.

“Lay on your back.” He orders.

You listened and laid down on the bed, hissing when the sheets came in contact with your stinging skin on your ass. You watched as Bucky went in the closet and came out with a box. Your eyes widen. You know that box. It’s the box you and Bucky keep sex toys in. Bucky put the box on the nightstand and pulled a pair of handcuffs out of it.

“Arms above your head.” He instructs.

You put your arms above your head and Bucky handcuffed them to the bed frame. He tied your legs to the bed frame with silk ties. Bucky’s right hand disappeared between your legs, his fingers rubbing your pussy and spreading your wetness around. Your breath hitched in your throat when you seen him pick up a vibrator from the box. It’s the one that can make you cum in seconds. Bucky rubbed it in between your folds, covering it in your wetness before turning it on a low level and held it against your clit, making you squeak.

“Ah fuck, daddy!” You moaned.

Bucky loves watching you fall apart with the vibrator. You begging for him to fuck you with his fingers, tongue, or cock is like music to his ears. He watched intensely as your chest rose and fell, pants and moans of his name leaving your lips. His metal hand went to your breasts, giving one of them a squeeze before pinching your nipple. Bucky repeated the same actions on your other breast. Your pussy clenched around at the feeling. He turned the vibrator up to a higher setting causing you to moan loudly. His metal hand caressed your cheek, his metal thumb rubbing across your bottom lip. You parted your lips just enough for him to slide his thumb in your mouth. You wrapped your lips around his thumb and sucked on it, your tongue swirling around it like it were his cock while holding eye contact with him. A growl left Bucky’s lips as he watched you. Bucky put the vibrator on the highest setting. You arched your back and threw your head back against the pillow in pleasure. Your orgasm was building up quickly. You were right on the edge. It felt like a tidal wave was about to come crashing down on you.

“Oh fuck…” You whimpered. “Can I- ah fuck! Can I please cum daddy?” You asked desperately.

“Cum.” Is all he says.

A loud moan left your lips as you came hard, soaking the sheets beneath you and the vibrator. Bucky nearly came in his pants at the sight of you squirting. He shut the vibrator off and put it on the nightstand, making you whine. That earned you a smack on your thigh.

“Quit your fucking whining or I’ll give you something to whine about.” Bucky says.

You watched with hungry eyes as Bucky stripped off his clothes. Your eyes immediately looked down at his cock, hard and leaking with precum.

“My eyes are up here, doll.” He says, snapping his fingers in your face.

Bucky got on the bed in between your spread legs. You looked at him as he wrapped his right hand around his cock. He thumb swiped over his tip, using his precum as a lubricant. You watched with hungry eyes as he began pumping his cock. You licked your lips, wanting nothing more than to suck his cock. You whined and tugged on the restraints, making Bucky chuckle.

“You did this to yourself, babydoll.” Bucky tells you. “You shouldn’t have been acting like a little whore. Now you have to watch daddy play with his cock.” He says.

“But daddy…” You whined.

“What did I say about whining?” He asks.

“Quit whining or you’ll give me something to whine about.” You answered.

Your eyes stayed glued to his cock as he began jerking himself off. Tingles went through your body when moans fell from his lips.

“You could be putting that pretty little mouth of yours to good use, but it’s too bad you can’t.” He says tauntingly.

Your breathing hitched in your throat as his hand moved faster. Your pussy was wet with slick as you watched his hand move up and down on his cock. Precum leaked down his cock. He used it as a lubricant. You were so focused on his cock that you didn’t even realize that you were drooling.

“Hungry for daddy’s cock, doll face?” Bucky asks.

“I’m always hungry for your fat cock, daddy.” You say.

“Too bad you’re not getting it yet.” He chuckles, making you pout.

You desperately wanted to rub your thighs together for some kind of relief, but you couldn’t, due to the restraints. Bucky looks so incredibly hot. His muscles flexed as pleasure took over his body.

“You look so hot, daddy.” You say, bitting your bottom lip.

“Yea?” He rasps, moving his hand faster.

“Mmm.” You hummed. “So fucking hot.” You say more in a moan.

“I know what you’re doing, doll and it’s not going to work.” He says.

You huffed and pouted as you continued to watch him jerk off. His hand lost rhyme due to his orgasm building up, but regained it.

“You want daddy’s cum, babydoll?” Bucky asks, panting.

“Yes please! Give me your cum, daddy!” You say a little too desperately.

Bucky chuckles at your desperateness. He moved closer to you. His hand moved faster on his cock. Soon enough, his cum landed on your stomach and chest. You moaned at the warm feeling of it. Bucky sat back on his knees to catch his breath for a moment.

“Can you uncuff and untie me now?” You asked, tugging on the restraints.

“No.” Bucky says.

“But I’ve been a good girl for you daddy.” You say with a pout.

“That’s true, but I’m not done with you yet, babydoll.” He says.

Bucky rubbed his hands on your inner thighs, dangerously close to your pussy. He rubbed his cock in between your wet folds, covering it in your slick before tapping his tip on your clit a few minutes, making your hips jolt up at the sensation. He lined his cock at your tight entrance and slid it inside of you in one hard thrust, making you gasp.

“God damn, you’re fucking tight.” Bucky groans, tilting his back a little.

He pulled almost all the way out, only leaving his tip inside of you before thrusting back inside of you hard. You tugged on the handcuffs and threw your head back in pleasure. Bucky’s hands grasped your hips tightly as he fucked into you. Loud moans and screams left your lips. It was like music to Bucky’s ears. Bucky’s eyes wandered your body, stopping at your breast and watched as they bounced every time he thrusted into you.

“Tell me again, babydoll…” Bucky starts. “Why did you send me that naughty picture of you while I was in a meeting?” He asks.

“I wanted you so fucking bad, daddy.” You say more in a whine.

“You’re getting me now, doll face.” He says, his voice a little deeper than normal.

His vibranium hand left your hip, placing it on the headboard above your head. His dog tags dangled in your face. You desperately wanted to grab the chain of his dog tags and give him a filthy kiss. Your eyes wandered further down his perfectly sculpted body, watching as his abs flexed every time he thrusted into you. The perfectly trimmed hair at the base of his cock rubbed against your clit, stimulating it.

“Checking out daddy?” Bucky smirks.

“Mmm.” You moaned.

Your lips parted, a loud moan leaving them when his cock hit your sweet spot. You arched your back in pleasure, tugging on the handcuffs and pressing your chest upwards towards his face. Bucky took the opportunity to mark up your breasts with hickeys. His mouth was occupied on your left breast while his right hand found its place on your left one, squeezing it and pinching your nipple. A gasp left your lips when his teeth grazed your nipple. A tingling sensation shot through your body and your cunt squeezed around his cock at the feeling. He repeated his actions on your other breast, getting the same reaction from you.

Bucky stopped thrusting and pulled out momentarily to untie your ankles from the bed frame. A squeak left your lips when he flipped you over onto your stomach, the chain of the handcuffs twisting. He lifted your hips, angling your ass towards him. He placed his metal hand on the top of your back and pushed the top of your body down against the bed, making you stick your ass out more. He nudged his thigh between yours to spread your legs apart. You moaned when his thigh came in contact with your wet cunt.

“You look so much better in this position.” Bucky says, his hands rubbing your red and sore ass cheeks and gave them a squeeze, the coolness of his vibranium hand soothed the stinging of your ass.

“But I want to look at you while you’re fucking me, daddy.” You say with a pout, looking over your shoulder to look at him.

“You shouldn’t have a naughty girl and sent me a dirty picture of yourself while I was at work.” He says.

Bucky lined his cock at your tight entrance. He circled his tip around your entrance to tease you, making you whine which earned you a smack on your ass.

“How many times do I have to tell you quit fucking whine?” Bucky asks.

“Sorry, daddy.” You mumbled.

Bucky thrusted his cock inside of you in a harsh thrust, making you gasp. His thrusts were more harder and faster than when you were in the first position. His hands have a bruising grip on your hips.

“You look so breedable like this.” He says, taking in the sight in front of him.

“Breed me, daddy.” You blurted out in a moan.

Him hearing those words come out of your mouth made him go feral. The image of you pregnant with his child is the only thing in his mind at the moment.

“I’ll fucking breed you real good, babydoll.” His voice lower than normal. “Everyone will know who you belong to when they see you pregnant with my child.” He says, almost a growl.

His thrust sped up. The sound of skin slapping and the smell of sex filled the bedroom. His cock hitting your sweet spot perfectly with each thrust. Your legs began trembling as your orgasm started to build up. It felt like a tidal wave was about to come crashing down on you.

“Can I- fuck! Can I please cum, daddy?” You asked, begging. “I’ve been a good girl.” You say.

“Cum for me, doll.” He says.

Bucky’s vibranium hand left your hip and reached around your front, blindly finding your clit and began rubbing it in fast circles. A loud moan left your lips as you came hard, your cum soaking your thighs and his cock. Bucky gave your clit a particularly rough run before focusing on his own orgasm which was coming fast. His thrust became sloppy before he regained his pace. A moan left Bucky’s lips as he came inside of you, painting your walls. His thrusts came to a slow stop. He slowly pulled out and sat back on his knees to catch his breath. His eyes watched as his cum dripped out of your pussy. His fingers on his right hand scoop it up and pushed it back inside of you. You moaned and squirmed at the feeling.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, doll face.” Bucky says, uncuffing your wrists that are now red.

“Don’t wanna move.” You mumbled with a pout.

“I’ll carry you.” He says softly.

Bucky picked you up bridal style and carried you to the bathroom. He ran you a warm bath and helped clean you up before cleaning himself up. When you two were done in the bath, he dried you off and carried you back to the bedroom and laid you down on the bed after giving you one of his shirts to wear to bed. He got in bed next to you and wrapped his arms around you protectively, pulling you closer to him.

“I love you, doll.” Bucky says softly, kissing the top of your head.

“I love you too, Bucky.” You say sleepily before falling asleep with your head on his chest.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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manestjerne · 2 days

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I'll do that again for you

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Summary: Bucky pushes you away again and you let him this time.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: angst, swearing, comfort, a little fluff, doubts, angry behavior, mentions of physical abuse and injuries, crying. Let me know if I forgot something.

A/N: I'm not sure about this one, but it's been on my mind for so long I had to finally sit down and write it all down. Hope you enjoy it guys <3

I walked into Bucky’s apartment and tossed my keys on the dining table before opening the fridge and getting myself a bottle of water. I looked around slowly and walked to the pile of bedsheets on the floor. I picked them up before sitting down on the couch. The quiet sound of shower in the other room seemed to wash all my worries away, but I knew they will come back the moment I see him. His deep blue, tired eyes full of regret and and guilt, his usually steady hands shaking whenever we were alone. All the things no one else besides me was allowed to see. Things that only I could perceive in a conference room full of people. Things I couldn’t do anything about. He was more devastated than ever when Steve started talking about leaving him. Leaving us, but Bucky couldn’t wrap his head around that, believing I have already found my peace in other people. As compassionate as he was, he never saw how lonely I was since I was trying to get him his life back. But I never blamed him.

The peaceful sound of water flowing got quiet unexpectedly, making me snap back to reality. I heard quiet footsteps getting closer and my heart started pounding in my chest.

„Hey sweets, you’re here early.”

He said calmly, sitting on the couch next to me. I only replied with a smile, realizing he looks worse than usually. He wasn’t surprised I was here, I always were on friday mornings. We talked about his last therapy session before going to the compound together, it was our routine. The thing that kept us both on tracks, helping to get a steady rhythm in our messed up lives, something to stick with for once. But today my thoughts were focused on something else, I didn’t care about the therapy, knowing he might finally found something better to help him get his life together.

„How was your date yesterday?”

„It was awful and I don’t want to talk about it”

His reply was dry and harsh. He didn’t to that often while talking to me. He had a soft spot there, always treating me gently and respectful, but I knew this moment would come, sooner or later. I knew the perfect bubble of our strange relationship would finally burst, because he couldn’t handle it. I knew it would change for him, but never for me, I felt the same way since I met him, when he squeezed my throat so hard that I passed out and had to look at the bruises covering my body for the next two weeks whenever I passed a mirror. But even as a Winter Soldier, his eyes were the same, that’s why I chose to help Steve get him back. That’s why I had the worst possible fight with Tony, when he told me I can’t just pick up assassins from the streets and adopt them like stray cats. He never said that about Wanda, he never called Nat an assassin, but he never hesitated when it came to Bucky. Thinking about that sent shivers down my spine, remembering how much I had to give up to bring things back to normal, to help them understand that the Winter Soldier is not the person standing in front of them.

„So I chose a wrong person again?”

I asked with a weak smile. It wasn’t the first date he didn’t enjoy, but he never blamed me for that.

„You chose the wrong thing for me, I don’t get why do you want me to find a fucking love of my life by setting me up on hookups I don’t want to attend.”

His voice started to sound unsettling, I shifted in my seat and straightened my back, looking at him carefully. He tried to do that earlier, to push me away by scaring me, but I never let him. I knew he would never hurt me, too focused on protecting me at all costs, like his life depended on it.

„Don’t be such a dick and stop blaming me for your poor love life, I’m just trying to help you get back to reality.”

I was surprised by my own words, I never spoke to him that way, no matter how he treated me. I felt a wave of frustration flushing through my veins, making me feel like my blood is boiling. I looked at his hands, his metal fingers clenching in a fist, the flesh hand rubbing on the soft fabric of his jeans, but I knew how much they were trembling at this moment and how much he was fighting himself not to break the character he was trying to play.

„I never asked for it.”

His jaw clenched and I felt a sting in my chest at his words. No matter how grateful he was for me being there, he would never admit it, he would never say how much he needed and appreciated all I ever did for him.

„Do you want me to leave?”

I decided to make it easier for him, knowing he would struggle with saying it out loud. He never wanted me to leave his side, but he thought it was the right thing, and I couldn’t fight it anymore.

„I don’t want you to play a babysitter anymore, seeing one shrink at a time is enough.”

He huffed and rolled his eyes, almost making me believe his words and for the first time I felt some kind of doubt. My safe place by his side was slowly fading away as he kept looking at me with something what felt like blame in his eyes. I shrinked into my seat trying to find any words, but every time I opened my mouth the room was filled with nothing but silence.

„Do you want me to leave?”

I repeated myself quietly, not able to find any other words suitable for what I was feeling at the moment.

„Are you even fucking listening?”

He wasn’t angry, but frustrated. I didn’t flinch at his voice, but I could feel the tears filling up my eyes slowly. I got up and picked my keys up from the table. After a few short breaths I found the courage to face him again.

„That’s what I do all the time, James. I listen. I wish you could do that for once.”

With my last word I turned away and walked to the door. He never tried to stop me, he didn’t say anything before I left. I held my tears back for as long as I could, letting go at the moment I sat in my car. I doubted all I did for him at the moment, knowing that one of us wasn’t ready for what we were doing, but I couldn’t realize who was the problem.

-----

„It’s been a week since you stopped attending the meetings. If Tony was mad earlier, you don’t want to know what Steve said today.”

Nat entered my room without knocking as always. She brought me a piece of Wanda’s cake, but I pushed the plate away, still refusing to eat whenever I wasn’t starving.

„I really just don’t want to see him, I’m not ready for that.”

She sat on the bed next to me, looking at me closely and sinking every word I said. It was the first time I said anything about what happened that day and she was willing to listen carefully to every word I say, analyzing every sigh and deep breath between them. I felt bad about treating her this way, she deserved to know everything, but I was scared of what I was going to say, I tried not to think about it, knowing my pain is now fully replaced with anger and frustration.

„I did everything I could, all this months I tried to help him and he acts like a fucking brat, trying to push me away. I’m so done with him, I’m not going back and begging him to let me do that all again. If he’s so devoted to Steve let’s just stick with that and let him live his pathetic little life without my interruptions.”

I said it all in one breath trying not to sound paranoid, but Nat only nodded slowly and laid on her back, staring at the perfectly white ceiling.

„I respect your every decision, but he’s only doing that to help you, and you know that. It’s you, who convinced me he means no harm and just can’t deal with his own mind, that’s why he’s trying to push you away. But it’s okay you’re tired with that, you don’t deserve it.”

I rolled on my stomach laying next to her and picked up the plate she put on the bed earlier. I stared at all the layers of my favorite toppings and saw how uneven it was looking, realizing Natasha helped Wanda with cooking this time. I smiled to myself remembering how much she hates doing that.

"Just wait for him to come back, he'll do it eventually."

„Thanks Nat, I’m glad you’re here.”

I said before dipping my fork in the cake.

---

Everyone got quiet when I entered the shared kitchen, it was the first time I was in the same room with Bucky since I left his apartment in tears. But I didn’t mind his presence, I knew he’s not going to bring it up when there were so many people around and I wasn’t planning on giving him a chance to speak to me in private. I walked up to the counter and poured myself a glass of water before heading to the coffee machine. I waited for my drink to brew when I turned away and rested my elbows on the counter behind me, almost tasting the tensed atmosphere I brought into the room.

„Are you planning on attending any meetings this week or should I just send you a fax with our arrangements?”

Tony asked calmly. He was mad at me, but acting as a human as possible he wasn’t planning on letting me know.

„Yeah, I’ll be there today.”

I shrugged my shoulders when Steve rolled his eyes, but I wasn’t looking at him. Bucky’s eyes were glued to the countertop in front of him, filled with guilt. He looked pathetic and I blamed myself for enjoying the view. After hearing a quiet beep my eyes left him to pick up the coffee.

„See you at 6.”

I said and started walking away lazily with mug in one hand and a glass of water in another. I was slowly getting used to this, feeling more comfortable leaving my room, not caring about the stares.

„You two should just fuck and let us get back to normal.”

I froze at Tony’s words and turned back to face him unconsciously.

„Come on, we can all see how you’re looking at each other, let’s finally get over this awkward phase.”

„Shut up.”

Bucky replied him firmly at his next words, but Tony just shrugged his shoulders and went back to eating his cereal. I tightened my grip on the glass in my hand and looked him in the eyes, shaking my head slowly. Little did he know, we did that once, a few weeks back and it never helped, it never changed our relationship. I couldn’t find proper words to respond so I just walked away and stopped after passing the first corner, when no one could see me. I let my head fall back and took a few deep breaths, feeling the almost healed wound open up again. I started walking away when I heard footsteps approaching me, but he was faster and caught up with me after only a few seconds. He blocked my way with his body, towering over me before I could reach the elevator and hide in my room.

„He shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry.”

Bucky was trying to look me in the eyes but I successfully avoided it.

„Don’t act like you regret anything.”

I huffed and tried to pass him, but it was impossible. He raised his hand to tuck the strand of hair behind my ear but I flinched at his movement. He was visibly hurt by that, but not surprised, taking a step back his gaze never left me.

„Can we just talk like adult people do?”

„You’re not so good at that.”

I replied coldly, matching his earlier energy, trying to push him away as he did so many times.

„I am, you taught me that.”

„No, that’s a job for a shrink, so I’m not doing that again.”

„I know how you fee-„

„No, you fucking don’t!”

I replied throwing a glass at him, my words louder than necessary. He didn’t flinch, knowing I wasn’t actually aiming at him. The glass flew next to his face and shattered at the wall behind him.

„Fuck.”

I mumbled and dropped on my knees to pick up the glass from the floor. He kneeled besides me and pulled me away gently, grabbing the shattered pieces with his metal hand.

„You’ll hurt yourself.”

He said gently and I almost fell in his arms after these words, knowing how much I miss him and how much I want to be allowed to do that again.

„Like you care.”

I huffed in response and entered the elevator leaving him alone, kneeling in the puddle wetting his jeans, letting my frustration take over.

-----

I heard a soft knocking on my door. I raised myself on my elbows before realizing Nat and Wanda never knock, no matter what time they decide to come see me, so I rolled over with my back facing the door now. I didn’t want to talk to anybody else at the moment.

„I know you’re not sleeping, I can hear your uneven breath.”

I heard the words clearly, even tho his whisper was muffled by the door separating us. I didn’t respond, knowing he’ll come in eventually. I heard a resigned sigh before the door opened. His quiet footsteps echoing in my head when he circled the room and kneeled besides my bed to face me.

„I’m sorry for being such a dick.”

He said confidently waiting for my answer, but also knowing I’m not going to speak. He gave me a few seconds to make sure I don’t have anything to say before he spoke up again.

„I know how you feel, I can see how much you have to give up in order to help me. I know how alone you are, even with so many people supporting you. I know you did it all to make me feel better and I appreciate it more than anything, I need your help just as much as you think and more.”

I was a little confused at his words, actually admitting all the things he couldn’t say earlier.

„Then why are you like that?”

I felt the tears filling up my eyes again, but I didn’t care, letting them fall on my cheeks as our murmurs were filling up the quiet room.

„Because I can’t stand watching you do this. You don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve you, but I can’t function without you. I need you back and I’ll do everything for you to forgive me again.”

His hand slowly landed on my cheek, wiping the tears away as he looked me in the eyes.

„See, that’s the problem. Again. How many times will you push me away before finally opening up and letting me really help you?”

My voice wasn’t shaking as much, feeling his touch calmed me down as always, no matter how I wanted to resist the feeling.

„I won’t do that ever again, I won’t hurt you. I just need you back, as clingy as always, being a pain in my ass every Friday morning, asking about my therapy. Making me watch all the stupid romantic movies, cuddling on the couch when I’m trying to move away. Dragging me back to bed when I lay on the floor and making me talk about my nightmares before we fall asleep again.”

"Who would think that Bucky Barns could ever kneel before a woman."

"And I'll do it again for you."

I couldn’t help but giggled at his words, knowing how much I miss that feeling too, no matter he was trying to act like he hates it, he loved it more than I did. He smiled softly at my reaction, and I knew it was sincere. He slowly stood up and took the covers off me. Picking me up gently he moved me to make space for himself and laid next to me, resting my head on his chest before pulling the covers over us once more.

„Just come back for the last time and I promise I won’t act like a brat and start treating you as you deserve. I would do anything for you and I can’t run from it anymore. I’m ready to give you everything I can and finally take care of you, like you did this whole time.”

He brushed his fingers through my hair and I nodded slowly, knowing he finally understood that pushing me away is not an option. I took a deep breath smelling his cologne and my eyelids got heavy as my body started to relax. I closed my eyes sinking in the feeling of our bodies being so close again, our legs tangled under the duvet, his heart beating right where my head was resting.

„Just close your eyes now, and we’ll start everything again tomorrow, okay?”

He asked quietly, his flesh hand not leaving my hair and the metal once still drawing circles on my back.

„Okay.”

I said before falling asleep, knowing I won’t wake up in the middle of the night as I did every time for the past week.

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samodivaa · 17 hours

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frenzy of lust and sin 1〗

Pairing: Instructor!Bucky x Recruit!Reader

Summary: During your training to become an agent, you've earned the moniker "Sergeant's girl" around the base—that doesn't give him the right to be possessive or jealous, but what gives you the right to be a brat? Warnings: sexual tension, age gap, sparring Words: 3.4k

Bucky knows that the body is not a thing of wild magic, but a collection of chemicals, tissues, and nerve impulses. Thoughts are no more than electrical surges in the brain. Sexual arousal is no more than a flow of chemicals to certain nerve endings. Sadness no more than a bit of acid transfixed in the cerebellum. In short, the body is a machine, subject to the same laws of electricity and mechanics as an electron or clock. As such, the body must be addressed in the language of physics. And if the body speaks, it is the speaking only of so many levers and forces. The body is a thing to be ordered, not obeyed. But the feeling is not leaving, he can’t control it. Jealousy. He is witnessing himself become daily more notable for savage sullenness and ferocity. But in the end, it’s an instinctive feeling. Your presence has flattered him from the first time you met, you are full of ambition which leads Bucky to adopt a double character without exactly intending to deceive anyone.

He keeps the acquaintance and has no temptation to show his rough side in your company, and has the sense to be ashamed of being rude towards such a young lady. You are the only recruit who gets this side of him, but it is a secret in his heart, he is guilty of such a secret, because he has to forcefully hold it. He keeps his hold on his affections towards you unalterably, not showing what he is truly feeling. With all his superiority as your hand to hand combat instructor, he finds it difficult to keep it professional as more time passes. As he falls more for you. ============================== The moment you enter the room, he discerns your soft-featured face, pensive and amiable in expression, eyes which are large and serious, your figure almost too graceful. It forms a sweet picture―and your aura. It's…intoxicating. It's shining, it always shines.

“Good morning, Bucky” you have a sweet, low manner of speaking as you walk towards where he is sitting. “Good morning” his voice sounds ill-natured, politeness that would only be laughed at, restraining an unruly nature, wary of the secret he knows about you. He is trying to not be overcome by emotion. Emotion is the art of breaking hearts, minds, and tongues―but it is too much, even for Bucky.

You reflect for an instant, with knitted brows “Are you okay?” “Of course I am, why do you ask?” he whispers crossly.

A surprised laugh almost breaks free from your lips, because his naturally reserved disposition is exaggerated into an almost idiotic excess of moroseness today and you wonder why that is. Bucky slightly widening his eyes, parts of his lips, but there is absence of arrogance as his features become unreadable again. He rises up from the bench, but you have no time to express your worry further as you gaze at him with a troubled countenance, because it might be something deeper. ==============================

It is all because of three days ago.

As he carries his basket to the laundry room, he spots a look for a washing machine with a finished cycle. He opens the door and unloads the freshly washed clothes, placing them into the basket in front of the machine―but these clothes are familiar. Leggings, he knows them by heart. Curiosity is gluttony. It is a great temptation to look through all of them, piece by piece. And although his demeanor is calm, his eyes betray a maelstrom of emotions—his self-control is shattering. The impulse lurks. His gaze moves downwards. To his crotch. Jesus. He is hard. And sometimes, to regain sanity, he has to acknowledge and embrace the madness. Bucky wavers for a moment, and then, irresistibly impelled by the naughty spirit within him, sits on the floor and finds a red dress underneath the leggings―curiosity sparking in his eyes as his lids to twinkle, because he has never imagine you wearing such feminine clothing. Until now. He wants to see the curve of your back, the dress clinging to your chest and waist, flaring over your hips—and certainly wants to look at your tits in it.

“Fuck” His throat gurgles slightly, looking at the cloth through his lashes like the starved man he is. It is almost impossible to express himself out loud, satisfaction speaks louder than words. He is overwhelmed by emotions, leaving him both speechless and breathless, but even then it is important to identify the correct emotion—lust, a longing that goes on a loop. He neglects his throbbing cock, but his attention remains the dress as he falls victim to countless daydreams.

There is scarcely time to experience a thrill of his arousal before he sees something else—male boxers. He stands stunned. Paralyzed. Breathless. But there is no time for inaction. His mind floods as he tries to make sense of what he is seeing.

—Men are punished by their sins, not for them.

Seeing the boxers, he speaks of lust in the past tense. The scene that plays in front of him, is perfectly adapted to a temporal phenomenon: distinct, abrupt, framed—illusions are bound to be shattered, reality finally sets in. An indescribable look flits across his face, because that sparks his anger. It is so wrong to feel like this, yet he is firmly persuaded that a great deal of his consciousness, in fact, is a disease, the more deeply it sinks into that mire and the more ready he is to sink in it altogether—Jealousy. He hates those insoluble problems and contradictions of human nature, and that he is capable of conquering his fragile inner center—only silence remains. To take back his power in any given situation, he needs to focus on the things he can control. The thoughts he chooses to think is usually the best place to begin, but by a natural impulse his mind starts to wonder—about this man kissing you, touching you, fucking you.

==============================

That’s how his unusual behavior is fueled, expressed, plainer than words could do, the intense anguish at having made himself the instrument of opposing his own jealousy. You enter the room and he is already waiting for you and as you approach the bench where he is sitting, he is supposing you are going to say something, looking up. The expression of his face seems disturbed and anxious as three days ago, lips are half asunder, as if he wants to speak, and draws a breath, but it escapes with a sigh instead of a normal sentence.

“You know, relationships are not allowed here” “What are you talking about?” you pursue, kneeling down by him and lifting your winsome eyes to his face with that sort of look which turns off bad temper, even when it is right in his own world to indulge it. “It is part of the rules, you sighed it” he goes on, less sulkily. “Yeah and I am not in a relationship” you respond, peevishly rising to your feet. “You just slept with some random guy?” “It is not against the rules” you exclaim in an irritated tone, chafing your hands together and frowning.

“So how was the sex?” he asks too casually, his countenance growing graver. Bucky has an unusual gloom in his face, that makes you dread something from which you might shape a prophecy, and foresee a fearful catastrophe. Will he expel you from the training program?

“What do you mean?” you ask, with an accent of indignation. “How was it” he asks, emphasizing each syllable “When he fucked you?” —Jealous makes tongue unconscious

You avoid aggravating his fiery temper by staying silent, not knowing what attendees his anger and the curiosity of your personal life. His behavior today provokes you exceedingly, but you lay the blame on his latest mission which was a disaster. He doesn’t have power to conceal his emotions anymore, it sets his whole complexion in a blaze. Bucky rises from the bench, scoops up his water bottle, takes a long gulp from it and impatiently bades you to go to the training mats, terminating the conversation with a sequel of horrid imprecations in his mind. You know that It is as much a part of him as his limbs, this need to make sure that you are safe, to protect you. But this is the first time that he hasn't been so kind to you. And you remember a definition of chivalry you’d heard once: a man protecting a woman against every man but himself. Through the madness of his words, a part of his soul is revealed—a part of him that has to do with the past. Even if people around him try to forget it, the past remembers him. That void in his chest fills with anger sometimes and it is scary to witness it.

You don’t want to spar with him, but you won’t back down either—back and forth you go, shifting your feet and moving across the mat like some wild, ferocious tango. It is exhilarating to be moving like this with you, so close Bucky can see your eyebrows pinched together in concentration, little drops of sweat as they run down your face. Then it happens. You couldn’t get your arms up in time and Bucky’s next kick hit you squarely in the side. The attempt to conceal the pain doesn’t work as you feel all the strength go out of you as your back hits the ground hard. In a second he gets on top, which makes you wriggle and squirm, trying to throw him off. He grins down at you, enjoying his momentary superiority and the feeling of your smaller body underneath his. You don’t let the mental block or panic control you, ideas flow so rapidly that you have not time to decide what to do—you scowl adorably and arch up against him in a way that sends electricity through him—and that unbalances him enough for you to flip him over and straddle him. —He is a mournful wreck ruined by his biggest weakness, you. You are on top now, pinning him, grinning down with sparkling eyes. He is exasperated, because he doesn’t know what this look means. He put it somewhere between indifference and pride. Your eyes are so intense he wants to look away—or never look away, he can’t decide, but he keeps his gaze fixed on you as if you fear that you would vanish if he is to remove it. To his shock, the heavy breathing, the rush of adrenaline and endorphins, the intense stare, the rivulets of sweat, arouses him even more.

“It was nice” you declare, emphatically, speaking sincerely “The sex was nice” you add in a tone particularly calculated to provoke him.

You seem to allow yourself such wide latitude with both your actions and words today, it really leaves him speechless and you laugh at his reaction as if you are inclined to make it no laughing matter to Bucky. When your eyes meet his gaze as you are staring at each other, time stops. Those eyes are piercing yours, and you can swear at this moment you sense something more. It surprises you that he doesn’t say anything in return. You are not used to seeing Bucky like that—without the attitude, without the facade. He tries to conceal his reaction from you, but his face grows cloudy at your reply, his heart grows pale with pure annoyance: a feeling that reaches its climax when you silently rise and leave the room as Bucky ponderes your reply painfully. He would not have wanted to hear of staying a second longer anyways. ============================== It is a continual nightmare. He needs several days off from all training sessions to meditate on his thoughts in solitude. He persuades his conscience that in a way it is not his fault as possessiveness is a problem, rooted in his ill-bred past―he suffers greatly, because of the brainwashing, torture, his mind struggles between disorder and order, trying to find a balance between the two extremes.

But he can't keep on running, he needs to face one of his biggest problems―for all his time that he has spent with you, he couldn't avert that excess of emotion: mingled possessiveness and jealousy has overcome him completely lately. The nearer he gets to the facility the more agitated he becomes and on catching sight of it he trembles in every limb. You are young, beautiful and there is something contagious when you act like a brat, it takes root in him and his desire grows along with him―your presence is a moral poison that contaminates his whole mind. —There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable. You are forbidden. Young. His best trainee.

============================== You are already sitting on the bench and turn around when the door opens. Eye contact. How can he mitigate his adoration for you when he can't concentrate half the time he is around you?

“Good morning, Bucky”

You say with feigned playfulness and he notices a mischievous smile on your lips. As if you are on hostile terms with him, but still somehow friendly. And what amuses you is painful to him beyond expression―he doesn’t say anything in return, but sits next to you, and looks thoroughly indifferent as he takes the water bottle out of his backpack. It is normal thought, you are alarmed at his recent indiscretion, and the disclosure he had made of his behavior in a transient fit of anger. Bucky is sick with conflict, possessive emotions fester in him while this sludge, guilt, eats away at his insides and he is acutely conscious of the swift passage of time. ―He needs to say something. Finish the session and go home. It is that simple.

And he stares hard at you, watching you take a long drink from your bottle. Then he follows the flick of your tongue over your bottom lip. His heart stumbles a beat. What the actual fuck. Was that on purpose―he has come here to train you and once again, he is left speechless. Then. You lean in, your scent filling his nostrils. He is shocked to feel his throat tighten with a primal hunger, just to hear: “Don’t you like me?”

You laugh softly, utterly feminine sound that galvanizes all of his senses. You lean closer, allowing Bucky to savor the sweet, sinful energy which shimmers from you―some primitive male instinct warns him of your innocence―like a bloom on a vine, fragrant and dainty. He scowles―don’t pinch it off. His heart knows no peace, because everything is wrong with having feelings for you. *What is she playing at? Is she trying to provoke me? It's working*

“It's not that I don’t like you, it's only that in your presence I don’t like myself” he speaks without any anger in his voice, but with much sorrowful despondency.

Now, you are the one left speechless, but manage to preserve your external composure, in spite of his ghastly countenance and strange confession. You find childish diversion in the idea of pulling his mental strings―you struggle desperately to not smile as your mind obsessively plays and replays his words, your eyes narrow into thin slits as your gaze doesn’t leave his, because your suspicions are confirmed, he likes you. That describes his change of habitual conduct. A hideous notion strikes you, how wonderful it would be to use the satisfying exhibitions of power and control to deliberately create more desire in him―only to capriciously deny it. It is clear that he doesn’t know that you are a virgin if he accuses you of sleeping with other men. The question is―what exactly provoked him? But your abstraction is evidently so deep, and your whole aspect so misanthropical that Bucky thinks how uncomfortable you might be feeling. He reflects that all those words will be branded in his memory, and they eat him deeply, eternally, because he should have not said them. All because of his greedy jealousy. He looks astonished at the expression on your face, only assuming what you might be thinking of him―he gazes at you with mournful and questioning eagerness, clearly on the verge of madness. He endeavors to say something, but can’t manage it which makes him compress his mouth as he holds a silent combat with his inward shame, meanwhile, your mind offers a perfect plan.

“Do you want to kiss me?”

You whisper, anxiously, yet boldly―mesmerized by the tiny flecks of indigo in his blue eyes—you can drown in those eyes and it wouldn’t be the worst way to go. His beautiful features offer themselves to your gaze as you trail through them, annoyed at how attractive he is. You feel stuffy, there is not enough air to breathe as his eyes stare at your lips for a few moments.

“Watch that mouth”

A wicked curve appears on his lips, because your pure innocence is a kind of insanity to his mind that sees in scattered images of varying vulgarity. Kiss you? He wants to fuck you. You are so impetuous and bold―addictive. “Or what? You will kiss it?”

You say which makes you glance up to find his eyes blazing with raw need. Innocent and virtuous, you represent the exact type of female he needs to avoid…“Or I will fuck it”―ugh, he can’t say that, but he wants to. God, he feels so naked knowing you have clearly identified his desire for you. He can’t go any further down. Rock bottom. His mind is a mess, but he has no intention of cleaning today. You lean, but before he can say anything you lean back and smile, leaving him to grapple with an absurd sense of disappointment. Teasing Bucky is part of the fun that comes before kissing—oh, you will for sure ruin him long before you touch him. It will be more satisfying to exhibit power and control than deliberately creating desire—only to capriciously deny it. His smile is faint and lopsided, his answer takes a long time, which is uncharacteristic: “Don’t do that again” Bucky’s voice is measured, his longing raw. Self control is all he has left. His face feels scattered in pieces and he can’t not keep it straight. The feeling is a whole lot worse than being hungry for any dinner, yet it is like that. All he can think about―is you. “Why? What will you do?” Your laughter sounds like music, you just can’t miss a chance to remind him what a brat you are and that's when a sense of his folly compels him to mutter: “Why don’t you really keep your mouth shut?” You guess he utters those words, at least, though his voice is hardly intelligible. You know his voice well, bright and brittle, but now it has the thinnest layer of ice over―you know that he feels guilty about liking you. His question is an attempt to repress the intensity of your delight. He looks at you with a droll expression―half angry, half laughing at your boldness. “Why don’t you-” your exhalation carries a rasping tremor as if holding back a giggle “-give my mouth something else to do?” His mouth gaps, but no sound comes out. He stares at you, with a grin hovering about his lips, and a scowl gathering over his eyes:

“I have no words” he articulates softly. “Bucky…” you tease him “You always have something to say” And yet, he freezes stiff, as if he has been pushed onstage in a play where he doesn't know the lines―God, you’ve broken him. You’ve managed to render him speechless―Dominance. Control. These things are the roots of Bucky’s character. And you are the first person to defy his dominance and to challenge his self control. What a languid woman, a force of gravity by which you irresistibly make him speechless—and at the same time, fuel a new side to him. Eye contact. There is more in the eyes. Longing. The naughtiness emanates from your eyes—you look at him like you own him, openly teasing him as if it’s normal. And now you know that he needs you. This scarred, broken man needs you...and you want to be there for him. There is a silent promise not to let his secret out, but there is no promise for not teasing him purposely from now on—you jolt at the knowledge that you are instilling his inner peace to such an extent.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x female reader #bucky imagine #female reader #bucky barnes #winter soldier

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delicatebarness · 14 hours

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i cant read your mind | chapter two

Summary: After hearing the news, you go to confront Sam. However, you end up on your first mission since the return of Thanos.

Warnings: MCU Spoilers. The Falcon and the Winter Soldier spoilers throughout.

Word Count: 1584

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A/N: Two chapters in one night. I did plan for this chapter to cover the whole of episode two of FATWS however, I also don't like the chapters being too long so here's the first half.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you scrambled for the remote, turning up the volume. On the screen, a man clad in red, white, and blue filled the screen as he stood tall, winking at the camera. The new Captain America.

Racing with questions, your mind couldn’t stop. How could they replace Steve like that? And who the fuck even was this new Captain America? Was he even worthy of carrying the shield?

Frustration and anger boiled your blood, mixing with the hurt from Bucky’s appearance the day before. The world felt like it was spinning out of control, and tears began to trickle down your cheeks.

Taking a deep breath, you wiped away the tears and forced yourself to focus. With determination, you got up and made your way to find Sam.

“You had no right to give up the shield, Sam.” you listened to Bucky and Sam talk about the situation as they made their way closer to you. Not yet noticing your presence.

“Hey. This is what you’re not gonna do.” an amused smile tugged at the corners of your lips as Sam began to tell Bucky straight, “You’re not gonna come here in your overextended life and tell me about my rights. It’s over Bucky.”

Applause echoed through the room, drawing the attention of Sam and Bucky. Bucky’s gaze locked with yours, while Sam’s eyes rolled.

“You too?” Sam’s voice filled with annoyance as he addressed you. Your smile remained as you stepped forward.

“How could I resist this party?” you quipped, voice laced with amusement. “Sam, you know I respect your decision,” you sent him a sincere smile as his expression softened at your words. He was grateful for your support, now and back in Washington. “But, we need to fix this.”

“I have bigger things to deal with now,” Sam exclaimed, taking both you and Bucky by surprise. “What could be bigger than this?” Bucky asked, his disbelief was evident.

You listened to Sam and Bucky go back and forth about the group called the Flag Smashers and The Big Three. You were on Bucky’s side about the wizards, but you knew agreeing with Sam would rile him up.

As the conversation carried on, you felt a sense of urgency. Without a second thought, you began walking toward the waiting jet. “Where do you think you’re going?” Bucky called out to you, his tone mixed with frustration and concern.

As you reach the jet, you turn to face Bucky, “I’m going with Sam,” you stated firmly, meeting his gaze. Bucky’s gaze hardened as both he and Sam walked towards you, you heard them bickering between each other but resulted in rolling your eyes as you boarded.

The flight to Germany was quiet for the most part, there was an occasional interruption from the rumble of the jet’s engine. You found yourself consistently checking your phone for texts from your date, and stealing glances between Sam and Bucky. They had been engrossed in a silent staring contest for most of the flight. Their unspoken tension filled the cabin.

“Is that your boyfriend?” Bucky’s snarky remark cut the tension, his annoyance evident as he observed your constant glances down to your phone.

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. “Jealous, Barnes?” you teased. He rolled his eyes at your response. You tucked your phone away, ready to turn your attention to the mission.

As the journey to Germany continued, Bucky and Sam returned to their staring contest, only breaking again when Sam got up to pick his comm up. Bucky followed his lead and you followed Bucky’s. And, within an instant, they returned to their arguing: This time about a plan.

“Where’s the chute?” Bucky asked, resulting in finding out you were too low for them. He looked back at you with concern, he knew he could survive the jump, but you wouldn’t. You knew you couldn’t afford to waste time, it was too risky to attempt jumping with Bucky.

“I’ll catch up with you from the ground,” you reassured the super soldier, his concern was palpable as he looked back at you. His eyes betrayed him as they filled with worry.

He nodded, reaching his Vibranium hand to your cheek and running his fingers down your neck. A shiver was sent down your spine, you missed the cool feeling of his left hand. “Be careful, baby,” he whispered in your ear before turning to prepare for the jump. You watched him as you allowed yourself a moment to apprehend the feeling of being called ‘Baby’ by him again.

Stepping out onto the solid ground, you felt the urge of determination course through you. You heard over the comms that Sam and Bucky wasted no time, they immediately sprung into action. Immediately, you began searching for a car you could use to catch up to them. Your mind focused solely on reaching them, you wasted nothing rushing towards a car you knew would be fast enough. Using your government identity to secure it, you thanked the salesman and wasted no time roaring the engine and speeding off in the direction of Sam and Bucky.

As you sped toward their location, Sam updated you on the tracking information for Redwing over the comms. “Shit!” Bucky’s exclaim echoed through the small earpiece, you pressed down harder on the gas pedal, determined to reach them.

Finally reaching their location, you witnessed Sam swiftly grabbing Bucky from under the truck, and soaring with him into a nearby field. Meanwhile, you continued to trail behind the truck, your eyes widening in surprise as you noticed the new Captain America engaged in a fight on top of it.

“Those are Super Soldier, kid, get out of there.” Bucky’s voice was urgent as it crackled through the comms, his concern for you still evident as he warned you of the danger.

Your voice was laced with determination as you responded, “Don’t call me ‘kid’.” You prepared to face the Super Soldier head-on. As you prepared mentally, you didn’t see the new Captain America about to collide with the car. The impact was catastrophic, causing you to lose control of the vehicle and tumble off the road and into the woodland area by the field.

Before you could register what had happened, new Cap and his friend had vanished. Sam and Bucky were by your side in an instant. “I told you to be careful,” Bucky reminded you as he gently pulled you from the wreckage, steadying you.

As Sam and Bucky conversed between themselves, you found comfort in intertwining your fingers with Bucky’s, his silent gesture of support. A chill swept over you, causing your body to tremble.

Coming to a halt, Bucky crouched down to meet your gaze as concern plastered over his face. “You okay?” he asked, noting the shallow and rapid rise and fall of your breathing. You nodded, feeling the chill of shock settling.

Bucky swiftly removed his jacket and draped it over you. Despite the absence of his left sleeve, the jacket still provided warmth and comfort.

After walking for a while longer, the sound of a horn honking beside you caught the attention of the three of you. You looked up, meeting the gaze of the new Captain America. John Walker, Sam had explained to you previously. Despite his efforts to engage in conversation, you followed Sam and Bucky’s lead, choosing to ignore them.

However, it didn’t take long for Walker to provoke a reaction out of Bucky, unknowingly circling back to the topic of wizards. This led to Bucky defending the Captain America title, causing a rise now out of Walker. After realizing that Bucky was unfazed, Walker shifted his approach, acknowledging the state you were currently in.

“Look, it’s 20 miles to the airport. You guys need a ride.” Walker offered, and he tried to convey a sense of goodwill despite the unlying tension. Your eyes pleaded with Bucky as he glanced down at you. Walker might not have been your choice of Captain America but the idea of sitting down sounded appealing.

Bucky assisted you into the car with a sigh. You couldn’t but grimace inwardly as you locked glances with Walker the moment he shot you the same wink you had seen earlier on television. The one moment you wouldn’t have protested Bucky throwing a punch for someone looking at you, and he misses it.

You nestled your head against Bucky’s shoulder as they discussed the issue of The Flag Smashers. With each glance from Walker toward you, Bucky's body tensed beneath you, prompting an episode of the infamous Bucky stare-off.

“Does he always just stare like that?” Walker asked Sam, a smile tugged at your lips at the thought of Bucky’s intense stare making Walker so uncomfortable, he needed reassurance. “You get used to it,” Sam huffed in response. The conversation resumed as they spoke about the government and what they were trying to do to help after The Blip.

“Battlestar?” Bucky exclaimed, a sense of annoyance mixed with amusement in his voice. “Stop the car!” He commanded the driver. The car came to a halt and Bucky wasted no time to exit leaving Walker shouting back toward him. “Come on, Y/N!” Bucky’s voice boomed a clear demand for you to follow him.

For a moment you debated if you should follow your ex-situationship or simply stay in the car and avoid walking the rest of the way to the airport.

---

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scoonsalicious · 15 hours

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Unwanted: Chapter 25, Unprotected - Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

WARNING: THIS PART HAS A MAJOR THEME THAT SHOULD HAVE A WARNING, BUT I DO NOT WANT TO SPOIL THE PLOT. THEREFORE, IF THERE IS SOMETHING YOU FEAR YOU MAY NOT BE ABLE TO HANDLE, *PLEASE* DM ME FOR THE WARNING BEFORE READING!

Word Count: 1.7k

Previously On...: Uh... something went horribly wrong.

A/N: BUCKY IS BACK, and just in time <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

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You weren’t sure what woke you up– the incessant beeping or the dull ache between your legs.

“Ugh, Sam, turn off your fucking alarm clock,” you muttered, pulling your blanket above your head. When had the apartment lights gotten so hideously bright? “Sam’s not here, doll. ‘Fraid it’s just me.”

Your eyes shot open at the sound of his voice, and you slowly pulled the blanket down from your face. You were lying on a bed in the middle of a hospital suite, and Bucky Barnes was sitting in an armchair in the corner. He looked haggard, as if he hadn’t done anything but worry and fret since arriving.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked him, fighting to keep your voice steady. You’d hoped time would have helped lessen the pain you felt at the sight of him, but no– he still tore at your heart.

“You never changed your emergency contact,” he said, getting up from his chair to sit at the edge of your bed. Lovely. You were going to have to re-traumatize yourself because you hadn’t been assed to update fucking paperwork.

You rubbed your eyes with your hands. “What happened?” you asked.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Bucky said. He reached for you but you, but you pulled away, leaving him to frown at the space where your hand had been. “All they would tell me was that your distress beacon was activated, and when SHIELD operatives responded to your safehouse, they found you passed out in a pool of blood. They had you in surgery when I got here.”

“Surgery?” You began patting your body, searching for bandages or stitches, some sign of an incision, but you found nothing. “I don’t feel like I had surgery.”

Bucky shrugged. “That’s all they told me. Since I’m technically not family, they wouldn’t say anything more.” You scoffed. He was a lot less than ‘technically not family’.

“Well, I’m not dead,” you said dismissively, “so no reason for you to stay.” You shooed him away with a flap of your wrists. “Go on home now.”

Bucky snorted. “All laid up in the hospital and still, you got jokes,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere. Sam called Steve on his way to the airport, told him what went down with A.J., so looks like you’re in need of a new mission partner.” The smirk behind his eyes was enough to make you sneer.

“No,” you said, crossing your arms, and you were sure you looked very intimidating in your hospital gown with an IV sticking out of your hand. “I’m good, thanks. Don’t need any help, especially not yours.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at you. “Always so stubborn,” he chided. “Doesn’t matter what you want, doll. Captain’s orders; I’m here to stay, at least until Sam gets back.”

Fucking wonderful. As if you didn’t have enough to worry about, with girls getting murdered, Hydra funding the Wiggle Room, you randomly bleeding out and collapsing, and poor A.J.’s condition still unknown. Maybe there was something so seriously wrong with you, they’d make you go back to the Tower to recover and Bucky would be forced to stay down here, alone. God, was that actually what you were hoping for, now? Your life had indeed gone to shit.

There was a soft knock on your door and a man in a white doctor’s coat and glasses entered, carrying a clipboard.

“Ms. (Y/L/N)?” he asked. When you nodded, he continued: “I’m Dr. Carson; I’ve been attending to you during your stay with us. I’m glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

You barked out a humorous laugh. “Like I’ve been thoroughly fucked by a cactus, Doc. Care to explain what the hell happened to me?”

Bucky suppressed a snort as the doctor blushed and averted his gaze. “Yes, well, it’s quite normal to experience some mild discomfort following a D&C,” he began.

You sat up straighter, positive you had misheard him. “I’m sorry,” you interrupted, “a fucking what now?” He couldn’t have said what you thought you heard him say.

Dr. Carson coughed. “A Dilation and Curettage,” he explained. “It’s a procedure to–”

“Oh, I know what it’s fucking is,” you said, raising your voice. “What I don’t understand is why I would even need one in the first place!” Except you did. There was only one reason, and it made everything make perfect sense– the vomiting, the fatigue, all of it.

Before the doctor could answer you, Bucky spoke up: “Uh, I don’t know what it is. One of you care to explain to me what the hell all this means?”

“It’s none of your fucking business, Barnes,” you grumbled, just as the doctor spoke over you:

“It’s a surgical procedure that requires dilation of the cervix and the removal of tissue from the uterus,” he said. “In this case, that would be necrotic fetal tissue.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Um, okay,” Bucky said as he considered the doctor’s words. You watched as the realization came over his face. “Holy shit. Fetal tissue? Like… like a baby?”

Dr. Carson nodded slowly. “Yes.” He turned back to face you. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Ms. (Y/L/N), but it appears that you’ve experienced what we call a spontaneous miscarriage. Near as we can figure, you were about sixteen weeks along.”

You brought both hands to your temples. Was this real life?

“Were you not aware you were pregnant?” the doctor asked, taking in the look of complete shock on your face. “When was the date of your last period?”

Before you could control yourself, you began laughing with the absolute absurdity of the entire situation. “I’ve been slightly preoccupied,” you managed to get out. “Between the baby’s father” you thumbed at Bucky, “cheating on me with my greatest enemy, working undercover to save a bunch of women from sex trafficking and now solving a murder, too, I guess, so forgive me if I haven’t really been keeping track.”

The look Dr. Carson gave you then was a mixture of concern and alarm, and you were fairly confident he was this close to having you held for a mandatory psych eval. Good; you could benefit from a vacation.

“Could, you, uh,” Bucky cleared his throat, “give us a moment alone, please, doctor? I’m sure Pock– I mean (Y/N) needs a minute to collect herself, to process.”

“Yes, of course,” Dr. Carson said, seeming relieved that one of you appeared sane, at least. “I’ll send a nurse over in a little while to check your vitals, and we can see about getting you discharged.”

Bucky nodded and offered the doctor his thanks on your behalf, because you were still laughing. Dr. Carson left the room, his haste evident.

“Pocket,” Bucky said, trying to get your attention, but you ignored him. “Pocket,” he tried again, this time grabbing both your shoulders in his hands and gently shaking them. “Hey, get yourself together, come on!”

Your laughter tapered away and you wiped a tear away from your eye. “Oh my god,” you exhaled. “I’m sorry, but this is just… I’ve been running around pregnant for four fucking months? Come on! That’s, like, an entire third of a year! You gotta admit, that’s fucking insane!”

Bucky studied you. “You really didn’t know?”

You snorted. “Of course not! If I knew, I wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with, because I would have taken care of it the second I found out.”

A frown took over Bucky’s face. “What do you mean, ‘take care of it’?” he asked.

“I mean, like, I would have aborted it,” you said, as though the answer was so unbelievably obvious that it was stupid of him to have even asked, but Bucky’s frown deepened. “You can’t honestly think I would have kept it?”

“It was our baby, Pocket,” he said after a beat, his voice a rough whisper. “You would have killed our baby?!”

You rolled your eyes. “What? Just because you knocked me up, I’m supposed to forget everything you put me through and play happy co-parents with you and step mommy Carthage for the next eighteen years? No fucking thank you.”

“I would have married you,” he said, and you noticed for the first time that his voice was full of sorrow, his eyes lined with tears. Jesus Christ, this was hurting him. “We would have raised him or her together. Been a family.”

You laughed, the sound harsh and awkward to your own ears. “There’s no way in hell I’d marry you,” you told him. “Not after what you did. A clump of cells doesn’t just absolve you from your sins.”

“That was our child,” Bucky said, with so much anguish in his voice that you pulled yourself back. “That was a baby we made, out of our love, and you’re talking about it like it’s… it’s inconvenient garbage.”

“Yeah, well, I guess the trash took itself out,” you said bitterly.

Bucky looked at you in abject horror. “You don’t mean that,” he said, as though trying to convince himself as much as you. “You’re… you’re in shock. You’ve been through a trauma, and you’re not thinking straight.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t mean that,” he reiterated.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, James.” You turned your head away from him, not wanting to see the way he was looking at you, as if you were a complete stranger.

The suite’s door opened again, and a nurse came in, dragging a portable computer cart behind her. Saved by the vitals, you thought.

“This conversation isn’t over,” Bucky said under his breath, and you sighed, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to table this discussion for long, but not knowing what he hoped to get out of you.

He couldn’t seriously have expected you to want to have had a baby with him, could he? Not after everything. To be forced into close proximity with him for the next two decades, and be tied together for the rest of your lives with a constant reminder of what could have been, should have been, with what he prevented you from ever having? That was just… delusional.

Even though, if you had given yourself a chance to truly think about it, outside of the initial shock of it all, that was what you would have wanted, too.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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rookthorne · 2 days

Text

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬, 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬

To find one to dance to the Devil’s call was a rare thing, but you found your match in the least expected place.

The only problem? A small, little girl that was determined to never let her new friend forget that she was home, too.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ୨୧ DILF!Bucky Barnes x Babysitter!F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ୨୧ 2.9k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ୨୧ Fluff, domesticity, pancakes are a love language, heated kissing, implied adult discussion (doesn't actually happen in the fic), very light angst (anxiety)

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ୨୧ The awaited sequel is here! ୨୧ I think it's a very possible eventuation that I am addicted to writing this smug, arrogant, son of a— ୨୧ A very big thank you to @smutconnoisseur for being my soundboard for this fic, and for helping me make the ending the best it could be — I am so damned grateful.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ୨୧ older by Isabel LaRosa ୨୧ Lose Control by Teddy Swims

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ୨୧ @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo ჻჻�� Mutual Pining (March), Domestic (April) — Masterlist

𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You were slow to wake the next day. The sun had not yet started to bleed through the curtains on the opposite side of the room — it couldn’t have been any later than sunrise, you hoped.

The night before had been one hell of a shock to your system, and you could still feel Bucky’s lips ghost over yours if you just thought hard enough; or how his voice lowered to a tenor that shook you to your core. All night you dreamed of more, chasing that forbidden high he supplied wholly and fully — a willing and far more enthusiastic half to your own.

Naturally, there were going to be obstacles and challenges to navigate to the possibility of a relationship — one of which you could hear parading up and down the hallway with fast, little footsteps.

After Starlet’s pressing interrogation while you readied her for sleep — a surprise that she (impressively) cornered you with — that it may be more of a smooth reveal than you could hope for, but still, nerves boiled and bubbled in your stomach, clinging to your insides like glue.

No point delaying it any longer, you thought, and you threw the mountain of covers off of your body. Though the indiscernible noise of the plush mattress moving underneath your sleep-stiff body was a siren call for small ears, fortunately, or unfortunately.

The door creaked open just as you lifted your head off of the pillow, and a figure, their head no taller from the floor to the handle, peered inside. “Hello?”

You blinked and sat up further. “He– Oof!”

In a blur of stripes and polka dots and a tangle of hair, you were knocked back onto the mattress with two thin arms around your neck. “Fawn! You’re here! Did you st– Why are you here? Did daddy let you sleep–?”

“Let her wake up, baby,” a deep voice said from the doorway. It neared as they said, “And I told you, no playing upstairs.” The weight moved from your front to your side, and you saw a toothy, bright grin that could belong to no other than Starlet. “There she is.”

You looked to the side and saw Bucky standing at the end of the bed, arms crossed over his chest. He wore a dark cotton shirt and grey sweatpants while his hair lay loose and mussed. Every last comprehensible, coherent thought fled your mind and pooled in your stomach, and Bucky knew as such — the blue of his eyes darkened with a knowing glint, turning them stormy grey.

Get it together, you intoned — outwardly, you said with a rasp, “Well, good morning to you two.”

“Good mornin’, Fawn,” Bucky said, beaming down at you. “Did you get some sleep, love?” The weight on your side pressed harder while Bucky spoke.

“Good, good, good morning,” Starlet sang, her smile as wide as her father’s.

A light laugh flowed with your words, “Yeah, I slept well, really well, thank you. Wait– Do I smell–”

“Breakfast! Daddy started it already because he is the best.” Bucky put a hand over his heart and inclined his head, before dramatically wiping a non-existent tear. Starlet shook your shoulder to get your attention and said, “Do you like coffee? I can press the big button on daddy’s machine for you!”

“Sure, honey,” you said, and before you could offer to help her down from the bed, she took off like a shot towards the door and down the hall. “Well, that went better than I could have hoped…”

Bucky laughed and shook his head, then he looked at you; a piercing stare that rooted you to the spot. “You feelin’ okay, baby?”

You gulped. “Y– Yeah, I am, are you?”

There was a beat of silence, the tension mounting by the second, when Bucky rounded the end of the bed to stand right next to you. His hand brushed the side of your neck, then his thumb lifted your chin.

“Never been better, Doe,” he murmured, and he leaned close to kiss you softly. It was a fleeting, chaste brush of lips, but it didn’t fail to stir up the heat that had been left simmering from the night before. “We’ll talk later, but come down and get some breakfast, okay?”

“Okay,” you managed, though it sounded more like a wheezed gasp than a reply. “I– uh–” You cleared your throat and sat up more. “I’ll see you in the kitchen.”

A soft smile pulled at the corner of Bucky’s lips, and he nodded when a yell from downstairs echoed up the well, “Daddy!”

Bucky sighed and turned towards the door. “What?” he called back.

“I wanna give Fawn one of my cups for her big girl drink!” You snorted a laugh while Bucky walked towards the door.

“Starlet Barnes, I swear to Gramma Winnie that if you’re up on that damned stool–” His voice trailed away while he made his way down to stop his daughter from injuring herself.

The covers came away with a rustle, and you moved to stand up and stretch.

The adjoining bathroom to the guest bedroom was just as opulent as you could have expected — marble tiles lined the floor, and some type of gleaming tile decorated each wall. It was coloured with deep, moody tones, and as you fiddled with the shower, steam billowed through the room.

You took a deep breath, letting the steam fill your lungs. The racing thoughts slowed as soon as the water pelted against your skin, a soothing pattern that allowed you to distance yourself from the worries of what was to come. “It’ll be okay,” you murmured to yourself, cupping your face in your hands. “It will be okay.”

After some time passed, you stepped out from the guest room, dressed in a set of clothes Bucky left for you. It was a shirt, and a pair of soft, worn slacks — they were beyond comfortable, and you yawned as you began to make your way to the stairs.

But you froze as you reached the top of the stairs. Bucky was talking quietly, his voice soft. “Don’t bombard the poor girl, baby.” The scrape of utensils on a plate echoed, and then the drag of porcelain over tile. “She’s stressed—can’t have any more on her shoulders, can we?”

You leaned forward over the balustrade to look down into the kitchen. From your vantage point, Starlet was sitting on a tall stool and Bucky was next to her, cutting up her pancakes with care.

The distance made it hard to discern the quiet words that Starlet uttered, but you caught them, nonetheless. “Can I make her a picture, daddy?”

Bucky beamed at his daughter. “‘Course you can, honey. I think Fawn would love it; she might even stick it on her fridge at home–”

“But home is here; she’s staying here isn’t she–?”

“Uh–” Bucky’s voice was strained, dumbstruck with the implicit question not unlike the interrogation you survived through by the skin of your teeth the night before. “Honey… I, uh– Fawn–”

“But you smile a lot when she’s around,” Starlet insisted.

There was no air, you couldn’t pull any into your lungs; it was sapped from the atmosphere, vanished without a trace to leave you reeling at the top of the stairs. “Shit,” you muttered.

After a long moment of silence, where you could physically watch the gears turn in Bucky’s head on how best to assuage and sate his daughter’s curiosity and downright accurate observations, he spoke. “I know, baby. Fawn is very special to me; she’s kind, she’s funny, and she’s very pretty. But you’re my priority, Starlet—always will be.

His thumb brushed her small chin, and he leaned down to kiss her forehead. “She takes good care a’you and that’s what’s most important.”

You could almost hear the unspoken undercurrent of meaning in his words, and it made your stomach flip.

However, nothing could have prepared you for what Starlet said next.

“She makes you happy, daddy,” she said, almost a whisper. “I like seeing you smile—uncle Steeb said it’s important to be happy.”

“Oh,” you gasped, and your hand flew to cover your mouth. Tears from overwhelming tides of emotion flocked your lash line, blurring your vision.

“I guess it is, honey,” Bucky said softly.

It took a long while to gather your senses while you stood on the balustrade, hand still clutching the stair rail for support. The powerful waves of emotion battered against the walls you had so weakly placed around your heart, and in your own disbelief, you wondered how this could have happened so fast — not long ago you were holed up in your apartment looking for work when you stumbled upon that advertisement. You jumped at the chance, and it landed you here, in a position where you were stuck between a rock in a hard place.

To confess and ruin your prospects for your job but possibly gain something so much more or keep your thoughts to yourself and pray that it fizzled on its own.

And even then, you knew you were asking for a miracle; that kiss still lingered in your mind, overshadowing your waking thoughts with more than inappropriate fantasies of just how experienced he was.

You shook your head, willing the thoughts to quieten down, at least until after breakfast — Bucky said the two of you could talk about that kiss. That would be the time to find answers, you reasoned.

Slowly, you took the stairs one by one, sure to make yourself heard and known. The living room and kitchen was flooded with natural sunlight that streamed through the trees that lined the edge of the property, and on the edge of the counter closest to you was a bouquet of white roses, wrapped in white cellophane.

Bucky looked up from his daughter’s plate and smiled widely as he took you in. The softness of his eyes made your heart ache; a yearning to stride forwards and embrace him. “They’re for you, Fawn,” he said, nodding to the roses. “Little miss Starlet helped me pick ‘em out for you—as a thank you,” he added as you tilted your head in confusion. “Had ‘em delivered this mornin’.”

“You didn’t have–” You started, but Starlet began to fuss.

“And I did a little picture,” she gushed, pointing at a small piece of paper placed carefully between the numerous bulbs.

“She did,” Bucky agreed.

You smiled, just a twitch of your lips, and you walked towards the arrangement. The roses were in full bloom, their beauty bewitching and soft, tender — just like the love you held for the pair in front of you. “They’re beautiful,” you whispered, touching the outer ring of petals with the pad of your index finger.

The crayon drawing depicted a princess between a knight and a queen, their gowns flowing in a rainbow of colours, and the knight’s armour gleamed white from the imaginary sun in the top corner of the paper. You looked towards Starlet and smirked. “And now I have a perfect addition for my fridge.”

Starlet positively beamed with pride.

A plate loaded with an assortment of breakfast foods replaced the bouquet, and you glanced down — Bucky cooked each morsel to perfection, and you couldn’t help but feel your mouth water from the aromas that spliced the air. Complex notes of browned butter and sugar mixed with the heady, salted scents that could rival a five-star restaurant.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “Buck–? Were you a chef?”

Bucky laughed and hung his head, and to your surprise, a blush started to bloom over his cheekbones. A few strands of loose hair fell from behind his ears, and you felt faint with the need to tuck them back, while also conflicted with the lust to run your fingers through it from root to tip and pull.

“I’ve been around for a while, honey,” he chuckled, throwing a hand towel over his shoulders. His hands held the edge of the counter, and he leaned forward, pushing his weight onto his wrists to make his biceps bulge — it was an effort to focus only on his face. “Learned a lot, all that sh–” His gaze snapped to a preoccupied Starlet who happily ate her pancakes while swinging her feet. “Sugar.”

You snorted a laugh and shook your head. “I can imagine.”

The three of you tucked in and finished breakfast with little incident — Starlet determinedly rambled on about how many new drawings she was going to complete that afternoon, all while Bucky encouraged her and poked into her ideas with a cheeky, mischievous nature. It was no wonder that Starlet caught on and stared at her father with narrowed eyes.

“I’ll show you,” she huffed, and she pushed the empty plate away towards him. “May I be excused?”

“Yeah, baby, you go get what you wanna show me,” Bucky said smoothly, picking up the plate. “Fawn and I will be here waitin’.”

Starlet dashed off with her unparalleled enthusiasm, and you looked back towards Bucky to start a pleasant conversation, when the words died on your tongue. The blazing want in his once cerulean eyes had vanished behind the inky black of his pupils, and his eyes were darting back and forth from your eyes to your lips, where they lingered.

You watched, enraptured, while his tongue ran over his bottom lip. “I– Hmph!”

His lips collided with yours while his left hand cupped your jaw, his right pawing at your waist. Your feet stumbled clumsily backwards, only able to go where he put you, and your back hit the fridge door. The force of it made the appliance rattle.

It didn’t deter you from giving him your all — the raw passion behind the kiss fueled the simmering fire into an inferno, the heat of it lapped up your spine and wrapped around every last nerve.

“Shit,” Bucky hissed against your lips, pulling back to gasp for air. “I couldn’t resist any more, baby—can’t fuckin’ get enough a’you.”

Desperation clawed at your insides when you realised you were in the damned kitchen of all places, and Starlet would be back at any second. “Shut up and kiss me,” you demanded.

Bucky growled low in his throat and surged forwards, claiming your lips again only to nip at your bottom lip with his teeth, soothing it over with his tongue. Your fingers wound through his loose hair that fell to his neck, the softness a luxury you couldn’t help but need more of — you pulled and revelled in the hitch of breath against your lips, the way his hips bucked forward.

A small moan vibrated your throat, and he grew more insistent, demanding in his fervour. It was only when he pulled back to mouth open kisses down your neck did you hear him groan with need. “Fuckin’ need you now, Doe.”

“Yes, yes,” you panted. “Fuck, please–”

Small, fast footsteps came from the loft above the kitchen and Bucky hung his head, his forehead landing on your collarbone with a heavy sigh. “Fuck, I need you.”

You blinked and shook yourself inwardly. “I– Fuck, yeah, me too.”

Bucky pulled away from your body with a thoughtful frown. “I want you.”

The way your heart lurched into your throat from your chest was almost painful, and you gulped around it. “I– Oh, god.”

“I jus’ wanna get a feel of where your head’s at, yeah?” he said softly. “I need to make sure that you want this as much as I do.”

“That– Yeah, I do, I really, really do–” You tried, furiously working your throat to swallow, though your mouth was dry.

Bucky smiled and squeezed your waist with his hand, and he pecked you on the lips before he pulled away. “Don’t you worry, baby. I want you here with me, and with her.” He nodded towards his approaching daughter, who was occupied with carrying rolls and rolls of paper. “I know she does too.”

The words, while they were whispered against your lips, they came with a promise, one that entailed your whole future.

Starlet’s excited tone pulled you from staring into Bucky’s eyes, and you smiled as she held up some of the rolls of paper for you to take. “Come on, Fawn,” she rushed, giggling. Her small hand grasped yours, and then pulled you along.

Deep, rasped laughter came from behind you, and you looked over your shoulder to see her father watching the two of you with bright eyes; a glint of adoration in them that made the blue of his irises so much deeper.

“I want you,” he mouthed, and he inclined his head to look at you, then he turned into the kitchen to supposedly grab his cup of coffee.

“What’s taking you so long?” Starlet asked, indignant. She stood to your side with her nose scrunched in annoyance — an expression you knew she inherited from her father. “I have these to show you and daddy.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming, sweetheart,” you soothed, squeezing her hand.

She took the assurance and dashed away. You watched her as she guided you towards the couch in the living room, and you heard heavy footsteps behind you — Bucky was following slowly.

“Honey, please don’t pull her arm off,” he teased, and Starlet only huffed. “We need her, remember? Who’s goin’ to let you stay up past your bedtime then, huh?”

You blinked. “That was not my fault–”

Bucky took a sip from his mug, smirking behind the rim. “I know all, I see all—can’t hide shit from me, baby,” he whispered, and he winked.

The narrow-eyed stare you sent him only made him laugh, and somehow, the sound soothed your worries, and you knew it was going to be alright.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #babb2023 #rookthorne's works

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missvelvetsstuff · 2 days

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No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

I try to keep my Reader description vague but she's a she and above average height

Here goes nothing

Chapter 1

Warnings: Swearing, mostly angst, eventual happy ending.

Y/N, or Cookie to her friends, was at her desk, trying to finish her report so she could leave work early for one of Tony Stark's parties. This wasn't her first time but tonight her bff and mostly secret crush, Bucky Barnes, was escorting her. It wasn't the first time for that either but tonight felt different. Usually they met at the elevator but when they spoke earlier he said he would pick her up at her room. They had been getting closer in the last few months and even Steve and Sam had commented about Bucky's behavior towards her.

The night was everything she had dreamed, Bucky was attentive and always had his hands on her, respectfully of course but more intimate than he usually was. They danced much of the night and when slow songs came on he pulled her close and she could feel his breath on her neck, causing chills.

Towards the end of the night, Bucky pulled her to the elevator and kissed her until they reached his floor. They were in his room, her dress gone before she could think twice, not that she would have.

She could taste the Asgardian ale on his breath, blending with the tequila on hers. Everything was a blur of flesh and feelings she had never experienced before. She couldn't get enough, neither could he.

Y/N opened her eyes to bright light and a bedroom that wasn't hers. The pounding in her head a reminder of how much she drank last night. She looked around and realized it was Bucky's room, where she spent so much of her time. Suddenly, she realized that she was naked and her stomach dropped. She had hazy memories of shots and kisses that turned into more. The kiss in the elevator. She smiled even though her head hurt, she had been crushing on Bucky since the day they met and was amazed that he actually wanted her too.

Cookie wasn't your typical beauty, taller than most girls and with more curves than your typical agent. Of course, she wasn't a field agent but was the lead intelligence analyst on the east coast reporting directly to Maria Hill.

She reached over to find his side of the bed was cool but figured he must have gone on his morning run with Steve and Sam. She sat up and saw a bottle of water next to some pain killers, which she downed, grateful that Bucky was so thoughtful. Drinking the entire bottle of water she realized she really needed to pee. Standing slowly so as not to irritate her headache she grabbed one of Bucky's t-shirts to cover herself and went to relieve herself. When she was done she went back to sit up in bed and check her emails for today's agenda.

When she was responding to a message from Maria Hill the suite door opened and Bucky came in, sweaty and gorgeous. He saw her curled up on his bed and smiling up at him.

"Morning Buck. Good run?"

He nodded and smirked "Yeah, Sam whined at us to wait up but we just lapped him until he shut up"

"Sounds fun. Since it's Sunday and nothing is scheduled, why don't you take a shower and come back to bed?"

Bucky felt his heart stop "Look doll about last night. You know you're one of my best friends and I love you but I don't feel comfortable getting into a real relationship right now. I still have so much work to do on myself. Last night was great and I was thinking we could have one of those friends with extras, or whatever it's called. You know, to blow off steam."

Her stomach dropped and she felt her eyes filling up "You mean friends with benefits?"

He nodded enthusiastically "Yeah, that's it." he smiled hopefully.

Y/N was quiet for a minute before responding, was it worth the almost guaranteed heartbreak to have more nights like last night? She shook her head, unwilling to take that risk again.

"I'm sorry Buck but I can't do that. I get attached and end up heartbroken. I can't sleep with people that I don't have romantic feelings for."

His eyes grew wide "Wait, that means you have feelings...." He trailed off.

She nodded whispering "Yeah, I do."

Bucky's face dropped "Shit, Cookie, I'm sorry. I thought we were on the same page last night. I don't know what to say. I mean, I might develop feelings over time but I don't know. I don't want to make any promises, you know?"

She swallowed the sob that tried to escape "You don't have to say anything, we can just pretend this never happened. Ok?"

She got up from the bed, clutching the sheet to her and desperately searching for her dress from last night. When she found it she quickly put it on not realizing it was inside out.

He nodded but wasn't feeling too sure of that, he could hear her heart speed up and see her hands shaking "Yeah, sure, nothing has to change."

She smiled at him sadly, tears escaping "I uh I just remembered some paperwork I needed to finish up. I'll catch you later."

"Wait doll. I-"

"Don't worry it's fine." She cleared her throat "I could use a little space and just have work to do." She kissed him on the cheek before rushing out.

Bucky stood there, not sure how to proceed. He didn't want to lose his friend but really didn't feel like he could handle a relationship now. The stress relief from the great sex they had was something he could handle and he did have feelings for her, since the day he arrived at the compound but he knew she deserved a better man than him.

**Flashback**

Y/N was in her office reviewing some reports to glean even the smallest details before they went to the appropriate briefing packets that the field agents would use to form their strategy, when she received a text from Captain America himself, requesting her presence in the common area.

She put away all of the classified info on her desk, locked it and locked the door on her way out. She took the elevator which opened into the common area and was surprised to see a large group of agents already there.

She heard Steve shout her name "Cookie! Over here." and saw his hand waving so headed in his direction.

Steve gave her a hug and pulled away excitedly "Look Cookie, it's my friend, Bucky."

Cookie smiled and offered her hand. When Bucky looked at her she felt her breath catch, holy shit was he gorgeous, way hotter than the pictures in his file "Pleased to meetcha Sargent Barnes"

Both of them felt sparks when they touched but Bucky responded like she had burned him pulling away quickly. Cookie's smile dropped for a second before she forced it back.

Bucky looked at her through his long hair "You too, ma'am."

She could see how he was shrinking into himself, trying to look smaller so she stepped back to give him space.

Steve looked at them both oddly but smiled softly when he heard how fast her heart was beating and the slight blush on Bucky's face. That was a look he remembered from so many years ago, when Bucky met Dot.

**end flashback**

The next few weeks were tense, Y/N and Bucky barely spoke outside of Avengers business. He was always busy, rushing to train or something every time she tried to talk to him. The guilt on his face showed everything, he hated that he hurt her but missed their time together. As soon as he saw her look at him longingly, before she realized he was looking and wiped that look from her face, he had to leave. He hated himself because he knew it hurt her more every time he avoided her but he just couldn't handle seeing her and being reminded of the pain he caused.

There were other, senior agents being trained by Steve, with Bucky and Sam, to prepare for an upcoming mission. Sifting through all the related Intel was keeping Y/N up at night and her haggard appearance had been noticed by most of the team.

They had a meeting to start going over the Intel to plan their strategy. On her way in, Y/N ran into Sharon Carter who she had worked with previously.

"Hey Agent Carter, good to see you."

Sharon laughed softly "Please, Y/N, we've worked together enough for you to call me Sharon."

Y/N laughed awkwardly "Um yeah, Sharon. So how have you been? Any luck finding the power broker?"

Sharon shook her head obviously frustrated "No, he's crafty for sure but we'll get him. Rumor is this mission relates to him."

Y/N nodded, "yeah, all of the serious crime in eastern Europe seem to lead back to him." She looked up and saw Nick Fury striding towards them and straightened her shoulders "Director Fury."

He nodded at her "Agent Y/L/N. Carter. Why don't we get this started, Cookie." He looked down at the container on top of her papers.

Y/N went to the front of the room to sit next to Fury's spot at the head of the table, setting the container in his place. She saw that Sharon sat next to Bucky and started talking to him, touching his right arm and laughing softly. Y/N saw Bucky smiling and felt her chest ache, her stomach cramp up and her throat dried since apparently all the water went to her eyes. She sat down and Sam, the only one who knew what happened with her and Bucky, gave her a sad smile and squeezed her hand.

They held hands through the entire meeting, Bucky and Sharon touching hands under the table. He never liked people touching him except for Y/N but apparently he made an exception for Sharon because he just sat smiling. He never even looked towards Y/N.

When the meeting ended, Bucky and Sharon were the first ones out the door as he quickly led her to his room.

Y/N could barely breathe and rushed to her own room, glad it was on a different floor from Bucky's because she didn't think she could handle hearing him and Sharon go at it.

For the next couple of months it went like that. Bucky and Sharon spending most of their time in his room and Y/N trying to stay busy so she didn't think about it. They were hands off outside of his room and insisted they were just friends when Sam mentioned they were always together. Bucky heard Sam grumble about how Y/N used to be the one he wanted to hang out with, but blew it off. Nothing wrong with having a couple of friends. And Y/N didn't want a casual relationship while Sharon was down for everything and was teaching Bucky a lot.

Sharon was friendly with Cookie in the beginning but started being nasty to Y/N, calling her names and throwing out barely veiled insults when Bucky wasn't around, and did everything she could to keep them apart. Not that Bucky ever seemed to notice, too wrapped up in the constant sex to see much else. Even at team functions Sharon worked to keep her away from Bucky, so much that Y/N just avoided the both of them when at all possible.

Y/N was depressed and missing her friend. She had lost weight and had dark circles under her eyes which she claimed were from working all hours. Time wasn't helping at all, she still had dreams about that night and felt an ache in her chest every time she saw Bucky. A couple of times he tried to talk to her, invite her for the movies nites that she never attended anymore but Sharon always started whining for him and Y/N took the hint and made excuses that she had paperwork or needed sleep, anything to avoid them.

Bucky, Sam and Sharon were offsite for a few days so Y/N could pour herself into work and not worry about running into them.

Late one night she was talking to one of her informants in Latvia and the connection was weak. She claimed to have the details on the Power Broker but static kept interfering with the connection.

Y/N heard banging

"Marta?! Marta are you ok? What's going on?"

There was more banging and a clicking noise then she heard Marta crying and begging.

A muffled womans voice came on the line "You better back off of the Power Broker or you will regret it"

Y/N was pissed "Who the Hell is this? Where's Marta? What did-" she heard a gunshot and the crying stopped.

The voice chuckled "She's unavailable and if you don't wise up, you will be too."

The call disconnected.

Y/N had tears in her eyes. She had met Marta a few years back, she had kids, a family. Now Y/N took that weight and swore to whoever was listening that she would make sure the Power Broker paid for this on top of all the other death and destruction.

Y/N refused to stop and eventually passed out on her laptop. She woke to a loud knocking "Y/N you in there? Fury got a package and wants you in his office 20 minutes ago."

Y/N sighed, Maria Hill. "I'll be down asap."

15 minutes later she was out of breath on her way into his office. "Cookie, there you are. I don't know who sent this but both of our names were on it so I'm hoping you know what's up."

Y/N looked over the package, Latvian stamp no return address. She sighed "Looks like it's from one of my informants in Latvia. I was on the phone with her last nite when she was shot. And a distorted womans voice told me to back off of the Power Broker or I'd be next."

Fury nodded "Alright well let's see what she had."

Y/N carefully opened the package which included a large white envelope that felt like it was full of pictures and a zip lock with a post-it that said 'fingerprints'.

Fury called an intern in to take the prints for processing as Y/N pulled out a stack of pictures. Her jaw dropped as her heart sped up and she began to shake. There was one thing the pictures all had in common......

Sharon fucking Carter.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #angst with a happy ending #james bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #no benefits #bucky barnes x sharon carter

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lives-in-midgard · 17 hours

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"Who's afraid of little old me?"

"You should be"

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scoonsaliciousupdates · 3 days

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Unwanted: Chapter 24, Undercover - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, exotic dancing, underage drug use, implications of human trafficking, poorly translated Russian

Word Count: 1.8k

Previously On...: You returned back to the safehouse. Sam told you Bucky's been trying to avoid Cunthrage, but you're done caring.

A/N: I'm not going to lie, I love Dimitri. <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

You spent the next few days in one of two ways: your work hours trying to find out as much about Kozlov’s silent partners as possible, and your off time looking for someone to fuck the memory of Bucky right out of you.

You were coming up empty on the former, and even worse on the latter. It didn’t seem to matter how many guys you found to put their dicks in you; none of them did what Bucky could do to your body. You’d at least learned from your mistake with Bad Decision #1 and had gone out and bought a large pack of condoms. You weren’t going to run any more risks in that department.

As you entered the floor for the start of your next shift, Henchman #2– Dimitri– you reminded yourself, approached you.

“Cherry, yes?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Boss vants you to dance in his private lounge tonight,” he said, gently herding you in the direction of Kozlov’s suite of rooms.

“Okay,” you said hesitantly. “Is there a private party, or…” You left the thought hanging, hoping Dimitiri would fill the silence.

Bless his heart, the idiot did. He leaned down to whisper conspiratorially as you walked together. “Zer is big boss with Kozlov tonight,” he told you, and your heart nearly stopped. You couldn’t believe your luck. “He vishes to see ze best talent, and Kozlov ask for you special.” Your eyes glanced down to your bangle. Were they about to try and make you their latest offering for the auction block?

“Big boss?” you asked, feigning ignorance. “But I thought Kozlov owned the club. How can he have a boss if he is the boss?”

You’d stopped now in front of the doors to Kozlov’s rooms.

Dimitiri laughed, as though you were just a silly girl who couldn’t possibly understand how the world worked. “Kozlov owns Viggle Room, yes. Dis iz true. But big boss is from large group zat funds club. Very secret group. Very scary.” He raised his hands like monster claws and laughed. “Kozlov calls zem– how do you say? Gidra.” Hydra.

You gasped, and Dimitri mistook your surprise for fear.

“Oh, not to worry, little dove! I zink zis group not so scary as zey pretend to be. Gidra all talk.” He held up his hand like a puppet. “All ze time, Gidra is ‘blah, blah, blah,’ yes? No action.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, hoping you weren’t pressing your luck with your question.

“Zer is somezing Gidra iz looking for. Zey vant it very bad. Very, very bad. Zey look for long time, yes? But never find. Dimitri think, Gidra cannot be good at job if ze cannot find zis zing zey are to be looking for, no?”

“Well, what are they looking for? Maybe I’ve seen it.” Yeah, you were laying it on a little thick now, but you wanted to keep the man talking to see what other nuggets of intel he was willing to drop in your lap.

“Aw, little dove iz very sweet to ask. But Dimitri doez not know vhat zis important zing iz. Kozlov never say.” “That doesn’t seem very nice of him,” you said, hedging on a bet to gain move of the man’s confidence. “You’ve always seemed like a very good employee for Mr. Kozlov. Very loyal, very brave. He should reward you by trusting you more.”

Dimitri’s chest puffed up a bit at your words. “Little dove is kind. Dimitri iz not worried. Kozlov will tell if Dimitri must know.”

Well, that failed.

Dimitri knocked on the door, and after a moment, Kozlov answered, shirt half unbuttoned and nose already red from having snorted something. Wonderful, you thought. This’ll be great.

“Cherry Pie, boss,” Dimitri said, presenting you to Kozlov. The look the club owner gave you as he eyed you up and down was downright lecherous and you had to suppress the way it made your skin crawl.

“Ah, ze little dove, at last!” Kozlov exclaimed, throwing the door open wider. You glanced over his shoulder and could see a few other men, among them six or seven of Kozlov’s top girls in various states of undress. “Come, come,” he motioned you inside. “I have friendz I vish you to meet!”

If you had been expecting Kozlov to walk you up to each man and introduce them by name, you were sorely mistaken. Instead, he put his hands on your shoulder and addressed them as if you were an inanimate object.

“Gentlemen, I present our Cherry Pie! She haz only been vith us a short time, but she haz proved very popular, and has much talent. Show them vhat you do, little dove.”

He smacked your ass, your cue to begin your dance. You tried to keep your focus on the men’s conversation as you gyrated to the music, but one of the other girls danced her way over to you and tried striking up a conversation.

“Hi! I’m Chloe! I hope you don’t mind; I watched some of your sets. You’re such a good dancer!” You smiled in her direction, not wanting to take your concentration from the men, who seemed to be comparing the girls against one another.

“How long have you been in the business,” the girl– Chloe– asked you.

“A while,” you murmured

“No wonder you’re so good, then!” She smiled brightly as she bent over and shook her ass. “You’ve had time to practice. I just started. My stepdad set me up at this place. I guess he used to play cards with Mr. Kozlov? That’s how he knew the club needed more dancers.”

That caught your attention and you froze momentarily. “How old are you?” you asked her. You turned to really look at her. God. She could have been you fifteen years ago.

Chloe leaned in close and whispered in your ear. “Eighteen,” she said with a giggle– you didn’t believe her for a minute, “but my stepdad said if anyone asks, I’m supposed to tell them I’m twenty-one”

Your stomach turned, and you felt for a moment like you might be sick. “Why aren’t you in school?” you asked her, trying to keep the sudden tremble out of your voice.

Chloe shrugged as she turned in a seductive circle. “My stepdad says we need money more than I need school right now. He said once we’re back on our feet, I can go back.”

“What about your mom? What does she say? She can’t agree with that.”

Chloe’s face fell, and the churning sensation in your stomach intensified. “She’s sick.” Her voice was so soft now you had to strain to hear it.

Your breathing began coming faster, your pulse picking up. This was wrong. “You shouldn’t be here, Chloe,” you whispered to her, desperation in your voice.

Chloe frowned and paused her dancing. “I know I’m not as good as you, but I’m a fast learner. I’ll get better.”

“No,” you interjected quickly. “That’s not what I meant. I mean you shouldn’t be in this club, you shouldn’t be a fucking stripper. You’re just a kid. You should be in school, getting an education, not shaking your ass for some scumbag stepfather.”

A heavy crease appeared between Chloe’s brows. “He’s not a scumbag,” she countered. “He works hard, but the money’s just never enough. Mom’s medicine is expensive, and we don’t have insurance.”

“Then he should have gotten you a job at McDonald’s or something, not making you show strange men your tits for money!” you hissed.

Chloe took a step away from you. “You’re not better than me,” she said, and you could hear the hurt in her voice.

“I never said I was,” you began.

“Ladies!” Kozlov called, interrupting you and drawing the girls’ attention back to where the men were sitting, “come, it iz time to share some party favors!”

On the table were lines of coke, one prepared for each dancer. “Who vill go first?” Kozlov asked with a grin.

Chloe stepped forward, casting you a cold glance.

“Ah, Chloe! Come, come, love.” You wanted to scream, to swipe your hand across the table and send the white powder flying across the room, but it was vital you maintain your cover. You didn’t have nearly enough information to risk blowing it over some, well, blow.

The men murmured appreciatively as Chloe bent over, making sure to point her ass in their direction, as she snorted the line up her nose. It was obvious by the ease in which she did it, with no hesitation, that this was not her first time. You closed your eyes.

One by one, the other girls stepped forward to do their lines. You noticed how the men murmured amongst themselves as each girl stepped up, as if they were judging them. And then it hit you.

This was a test.

They were determining how well you each followed orders, how much resistance you would put up. You watched as some of the girls sniffled and sneezed as they inhaled; these were the girls who made the men seem happiest– you knew they were pleased to see a girl who apparently had never done coke before willingly do so just because a man told her to. They were judging your submissiveness.

Finally, there were only two of you left: you, and a redhead you knew went by Birdie. The poor girl looked terrified and was shaking her head. You stepped forward.

“Ah, little dove,” Kozlov cooed, “I vaz vondering vhen you vould come play.” You took a deep breath to steel your nerves, bent down, and snorted the two remaining lines yourself.

You felt the rush hit you almost immediately. “Oops,” you giggled, “sorry, Birdie. I guess I got a little greedy.” There was no mistaking the gratitude in the other girl’s eyes– it was obvious to her that you had snorted the second line so that she wouldn’t have to.

You could already feel your heart begin to race, and for a moment, you almost felt like you had two heartbeats. Kozlov came up behind you and wrapped a lanky arm around your waist.

“Naughty, naughty, little dove,” he smirked at you. “I vill have to punish you later,” he whispered in your ear. It sent a shiver of repulsion throughout your body, which Kozlov must have taken for anticipation, because he pressed his hips into your back, and you could feel his erection press against you.

From there, your memories of the night became hazy. You had brief flashes of awareness– grinding against one of the visiting men– kissing another dancer– Kozlov’s hands all over your body. You knew the situation was not ideal, that Sam would be furious with you. Hell, you knew you could potentially jeopardize the entire mission, but in the moment, you realized that all the pain, all the anger and rage you’d been holding in because of Bucky– all that was just gone, as though it had blown away on the wind. And though a tiny voice in the back of your head was telling you you’d regret everything in the morning, for the moment, you were grateful.

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

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buckys-wintersoldier · 15 hours

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His Angel | Bucky Barnes

Co-Written with @imtryingbuck

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 -> Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Angel!Female!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> Experiment for Hydra but his Angel for Bucky.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (T) mention of violence and guns, panic attack, fluff

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 883

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 -> ignore if recs are closed :3 maybe angel!reader helping bucky thru a panic attack? like he thinks when he dies hes gonna suffer in hell for the stuff the winter soldier did and we calm him down and help him? u can add smut if u want but u dont have to !! @dethspllz

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for the request. Since @bucks-babe got the same request it’s linked here “My guardian, my angel, my love” which is such a wonderful oneshot and highly recommend!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

An Angel.

An Angel they called you, it wasn’t necessary for the wings that were attached to your back but because you had the ability to calm everything including the deadliest of storms just by your presence. You were the sweetest and most softest person they had ever met.

For three years you had been a member of the team after they had found you trapped in a high ceiling cell. You heard the gun fire and grew scared, extending your wings you flew up in hopes the vibranium chain would finally break apart and you would be able to grab ahold of the metal bars on the ceiling. For several years you had been trapped, used and abused by the members of Hydra they had put you in a cell with a hole in the ceiling, tormenting you with your freedom right there, just out of reach. The more you flapped your wings sheer desperation and fear the floor began being covered in white soft feathers.

By the time they found you, you was backed in the corner with your knees pulled up to your chest and your nearly bare wings around your shaking frame. They were shocked by the amount of feathers littering the floor. The way your voice shook when you begged them not to hurt you had their hearts aching.

From the moment they freed you from the chains you became apart of their family.

Natasha noticed you no longer hid your wings from anyone - had been to scared to show them to anyone that wasn’t your family - they were always out and you were now free from the pain in your back from keeping them in all the time.

Sam noticed how much your smile would take up your whole entire face when he asked you if you wanted to fly with him. Both of you taking off into the air, your eyes bright, your laughter filling the sky as you both flew around.

Steve noticed how your wings would get fluffier in the winter and in the summer there would be trail of feathers wherever you went.

Wanda noticed the way your wings would flutter whenever a certain brunette super soldier was around. She had asked you if you had feelings for Bucky, quickly dropping the subject when she saw the tears in your eyes and when your wings folded themselves inwards.

But it was Bucky that noticed the change in colour of your wings. “Doll…”

“Yes?”

“You’re… they… wow” you frowned at him, looking at them feeling completely confused about his reaction. It wasn’t the first time he had seen them so you had no idea why he was reacting the way he was.

“Wh-what’s wrong with them?”

“They’re turning gold…”

You turned around, and your mouth dropped open when you saw the slight gold glittering on your wings. It looked gorgeous, the way the feathers were glistening in the light of the sun. Bucky looked just as impressed as you did. He took a step closer, reaching out his hand to slide his fingers with a soft, smooth movement over the feathers of your wings.

“It looks pretty; I mean, you never looked pretty,” Bucky stuttered and smirked softly.

Your wings never changed color, but with every movement of Bucky’s fingers over the feathers and his other hand, which was touching your arm slightly, they changed even more into the gold glitter.

“T—Thank you. It never changed the colors before,” you said, turning to face Bucky.

He smirked at you, feeling goosebumps underneath his fingers. Bucky caressed your skin softly, admiring the gold in your wings.

“Doll, I—I love you,” he mumbled, looking into your eyes. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

You lifted your arms, wrapping them around his neck to pull him closer. Your lips were only inches away from yours, and you could feel his breath on them, smiling softly.

“I love you too, Bucky.”

He smiled, then his expression turned serious again, and his body started to tremble. Bucky let himself fall down on the bed behind him, his hands running through his soft brown hair when he looked at you. You were walking closer, kneeling in front of him, your arms resting on his thighs while your hands grasped his hands and you stroked his soft skin slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re so beautiful, and you love me. B—But you shouldn’t. I don’t deserve your love,” he said, tears building in his eyes and falling down his cheeks.

“Buck, don’t say that. You deserve so much love. The winter soldier did things that weren’t the greatest, but you— you're Bucky, a wonderful man who is sometimes a bit confused,” you said, giggling softly.

Bucky’s heart warmed when you said that and when your sweet laugh echoed through the room. He breathed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment, when he suddenly felt your soft wings around him. With a soft grin on his lips, he opened his eyes, looking directly into yours, and leaned closer to kiss you gently.

There he was — home with you. Your closeness, your touches, and your skin always feel like home, and when you laugh or talk, he is sure there is nothing that could sound better than that. You’re his pretty doll.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel

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sarahowritesostucky · 2 days

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I'm Writing Happy Little Family tonight. I'll be including various imagery in this fic, and Bucky won't look the same in every picture. Just choose the version you like best to imagine, I guess!

💖If you want to be tagged for this fic or others, please use this form. 💖

It's like waking up from surgery. The smell of professionally scented, circulating air hits you first, and then a gradually increasing sense of awareness. You think you're somewhere very bright, but the more you blink your eyes, the more the brightness fades and your vision comes into focus. And ... there he is, sipping a crystal glass and looking like he's been waiting for you.

"Well hello there, sleepyhead. Welcome back."

You move your dry tongue in your mouth, trying to remember what happened. And then it hits you in waves, each one more devastating than the last:

James: He found you.

June: she's not there.

"How're you feeling, Hon?"

Windows, cabin: Shit, you're already on a plane.

"Steve. Set her down and get our girl a glass of water, will you?"

"Sure thing, boss."

And then the worst one of all. You look over and see the Winter fucking Soldier holding your baby:

They've got June.

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sashaisready · 24 hours

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This Must Be The Place: Chapter 1 - Home is where I want to be

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

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Warnings for: death of a loved one, grief, angst (it gonna be angsty!), Bucky not always being a good guy.

You sighed heavily as you pulled up to the house in your beaten-up Mustang. Hard to believe you were back, but life certainly has a sense of humour.

You parked up and leaned against the driver’s door, looking up at your new home.

Well, old home.

Granny’s place.

Once the centre of your world – a place of home baked cookies and tyre swings, of blanket forts and climbed trees. Of carefully tended to scraped knees and long hugs on the couch in front of Granny’s favourite shows. Sitcom reruns and Murder She Wrote, more lemonade than you could ever feasibly drink.

You came to visit every summer and they were the best summers of your life. But of course, you got older. As you grew, you wanted to spend your summers with friends, to kiss boys and go to the diner with Stacey and Monique. Granny’s place would always hold a large piece of your heart, but you grew up. You looked back now with a sense of sadness, wishing you’d gone for one more summer. Maybe two.

Granny understood. She was always telling you to spread your wings and live. ‘Don’t tread water, Cub’, she’d tell you. ‘Go out there and enjoy yourself’.

And you did. Maybe a little too hard.

You stayed close with Granny despite the physical distance between you as you moved across the state for school. Plenty of phone calls and letters were shared, and she’d send you novelty postcards she found at gas stations and thought you’d find funny. You still had a pile stored in a shoebox, now shoved into your car’s trunk with all your other worldly possessions.

You still visited occasionally, always telling yourself you needed to come more – she needed someone to clear out the attic, to sort out her paperwork, fix the old fence. You should sort that. The town was nice enough, but the biker gang that owned the local dive bar and auto shop gave you a bad feeling. You’d hear the roar of their motorcycles late at night, feeling grateful that was Granny was safe on the outskirts of town.

A few months ago, just as you were looking at your calendar to arrange your next visit, she suffered a sudden, huge heart attack. The hospital staff told you on the phone that it was quick, mercifully. She was in front of the TV, sipping a cup of tea. It would’ve been exactly how she wanted to go, quick and comfortable in her castle. No long, drawn-out illness. No forgetting her own name or wasting away in a bed. She often told you her worst nightmare was to become a burden and forget the life she’d lived.

But you couldn’t shed the guilt that she died alone. If you’d been there…

Your parents meant well but weren’t particularly distraught. You and Granny were closer than anyone else in the family. Still, ever the pragmatists, they arranged the funeral and filed the paperwork while you pulled yourself together. Granny was organised enough to have a will, and even had a document in her bureau with details of her finances and who to contact for every possible loose end that might need tying up in the event of her death.

Despite your closeness, it was still a huge shock when you found out she’d left the house solely to you, and nobody else in the family. Her few savings were divided between her children and other grandchildren. But you got the house.

‘Cub’, read the note in the will. ‘You loved this place, so it’s yours. I don’t care what you do with it. You can sell up and use the proceeds to take a vacation for all I care. Buy a fancy car or a designer bag or even invest in something dumb. You can stay here and lay down roots. Whatever you want. It’s all yours. Just fix that damn fence before you do anything’.

Nobody in the family quibbled it. The property wasn’t worth much, and nobody wanted to sort through Granny’s things, so here you were. Still mourning, but trying to move forward.

You didn’t really have a plan. You weren’t exactly set up in life, even flailing, some might say. Flitting between bullshit jobs and bullshittier boyfriends. No real roots or ambitions. You decided to move in for a while and sort the house out. Maybe get a temp part time job in town to keep you afloat. At least you didn’t have to pay rent. Then you’d sort Granny’s things, give the place a lick of paint, fix the aforementioned damn fence, then you’d decide. But you’d probably sell up. I mean, what would keep you here?

You spent a few hours getting your own stuff moved in and sizing up the task ahead. Granny’s place was clean, spotless in fact, but she was a bit of a hoarder. There were endless Rubbermaid tubs of clothes and blankets, spices in the pantry older than you were, and cardboard boxes of seemingly every birthday and Christmas card she’d ever received.

You also weren’t prepared for the emotional impact. Every corner held a childhood memory, you could practically hear the radio she used to play as she cooked, smell whatever mouthwatering dish she’d be whipping up that day.

You channelled your energy into the work and made some calls. There was a Goodwill store in town and a women’s refuge a few miles away, and they were very keen to take some of Granny’s things off your hands. You made plans to do some drop-offs over the coming weeks. You arranged to have wifi installed and took some time getting utility bills moved into your name.

You sat at the dining room table with a glass of water, exhausted, when your phone buzzed with a text notification.

“Hey! Are you here? How about we catch up with drinks tonight?”

Wanda. The one person you knew in this town apart from Granny. You’d played together as kids and hung out every summer. As you got older, you stayed in touch on social media and would go for coffee when you visited Granny. You liked her a lot. She had reached out to you when Granny died (as apparently everyone knows everyone here) and you’d thanked her. You kept her updated with your plans with the move. She’d always stayed here in this town, getting serious with her boyfriend Vis and settling down.

Part of you wanted to keep your head down, but you knew you’d benefit from some company, especially Wanda’s. You didn’t want to be the weird recluse living in her dead grandmother’s house who only ventured outside to buy groceries. Besides, it would be nice to reconnect with her.

“Hey!”, you replied. “Sure am. Just getting comfortable. Okay, sure. I could use a drink. Where we going?”

She responded seconds later. “The Snake Pit. Yeah, I know it sounds scary but it’s okay, really! The Howling Commandos own it, but they’re cool when you get to know them. Vis and I will pick you up at 8?”

You sighed. Great. Drinking in some biker gang’s sleazy dive bar. This was your life now. Well, you’d had worse Saturday nights.

“Alright. See you then” you fired back before you could talk yourself out of it.

Wanda was right. The Snake Pit was okay. A little dark and dingy inside, but a more varied clientele than you’d expected. There was everyone from excitable college girls to the old geezers nursing a single bottle of Bud for over an hour. You had worked in bars; you knew the types well. It wasn’t the rowdy biker gang hangout you expected, but you guessed options are limited for drinkers when there’s only one drinking hole in town.

The bartender was a little all over the place, messing up a few orders and rushing to get everything done. He seemed to be serving people haphazardly with little regard for who was there first. Fine. Whatever.

Splayed across barstools and were the Howling Commandos themselves. All clad in heavy leather and denim, they joked and drank beer with each other while keeping a close eye on the customers. You got the impression they weren’t necessarily looking for trouble but wouldn’t hesitate to deal with it should some occur. A broad blonde with a thick beard seemed to be in charge, you could see in the way the others hovered around him that he held some sort of authority. They were quite intimidating in their matching kuttes and big boots, but you supposed that was the point.

The blonde man locked eyes with you and watched you, a mix of curiosity and wariness on his face. His eyes were blue and strong, the intensity of his glare causing you to turn away as you went back to nodding at the story Wanda was telling. You had a strange feeling of dread in your stomach, but maybe that was just the anxiety of being somewhere new.

“You wanna play pool?” she asked, nodding towards the corner.

There were a couple of pool tables and the back of the room, with a dartboard nailed to the wall not far from them.

“Sure,” you smiled as you stood up and grabbed your drink, “I’m a little rusty…it’s been a while”.

“Modesty I’m sure,” Vis grinned as they followed you over. “I bet you’re secretly a dark horse”.

You winked jokingly as the three of you laughed and moved towards the table. It was nice to catch up with them, you settled in so comfortably together that it was as if you did this every week.

As you set up the balls and chalked your cue, you felt the presence of a group moving behind you. The Commandos group had moved from the bar and headed to the dart board, jeering and laughing as they lined up to take their turn. A striking redhead, the sole woman in the group, was busting their balls about their darts ability (or lack thereof).

“Hey” you heard Wanda say softly as you moved around the table, and a few of them murmured greetings back at her.

They were being loud and obnoxious as they ragged on each other for their poor aim, and you suppressed an eyeroll as you leaned over the table to take your shot.

The laughter got louder as you pulled your cue back and aimed, they were practically shouting, you pushed your cue forward through your fingers and moved to the ball and-

Pain.

PAIN.

You flinched and your legs buckled as the cue clipped the ball and sent it flying in the wrong direction. You felt a pressure and a sting as your brain tried to catch up with what had happened. You could hear Wanda gasping and Vis talking to you calmly as another voice interrupted.

“Ohmygod…Ohmygodsorry…I didn’t…oh my god, FUCK” they said, the panic evident.

You turned and looked, to your horror, to discover one of the darts embedded in one of your ass cheeks. This surely couldn’t be happening??

As you turned back towards the panicking voice in front of you, it became immediately evident who was the perpetrator.

He was young, chocolate brown hair slicked back to reveal a baby face. Wide, horrified chestnut eyes stared at you. Despite the kutte and motorcycle boots, he looked like a scared little boy. Behind him stood members of the gang, some smirking, some rolling their eyes and nudging each other. They didn’t intervene, just enjoyed the show. You felt your face flush with mortification.

“What…what the fuck is wrong with you?” you spat, furious as well as in pain. You noticed the entire bar had stopped to watch. You gripped the dart but couldn’t quite build up the courage to pull it out.

“Are you stupid...?” you continued as he just stared at you, his mouth flapping like a fish as he tried and failed to explain himself.

Wanda said your name in a wary tone and Vis told you it was okay. Even through your angry haze you could tell they were nervous about where this was going.

“Hey…come on now,” said someone else. “You all shut up”.

The group quickly parted and quietened as the blonde man from earlier appeared in front of you. “Parker…” he sighed under his breath.

“Look…it was an accident, okay?” he told you sternly. “I’m sorry…look, I’m Steve, I’m the co-owner and-”

“I don’t care!” you hissed. “What the fuck kinda place are you running here?”

You knew you sounded shrill, but you were upset and embarrassed. And it hurt! You were half aware of the group suddenly tensing up, the atmosphere in the air shifting to something a bit darker.

The man raised a brow in annoyance and went to speak again when you suddenly yelped, feeling a hard sting in your bottom half and then an immediate loss of pressure.

Someone had yanked the dart out.

You turned, aghast, to a man who had suddenly appeared behind you.

“What the fu-,” you exclaimed as you looked at him.

Your words died on your tongue as you were greeted by the face of the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. Long, coffee-coloured waves of hair sat at his well-chiselled jawline. Big, broad shoulders stretched out a clinging white t-shirt beneath his kutte. He had a metal arm that moved robotically, but mostly you were caught in the depths of the cerulean pools of his eyes. The others all seemed to straighten up and go quiet in a way they hadn’t even done with Steve. This must be the other owner, then.

He smirked and waved the dart in front of you. “Fixed it”.

You furrowed your brows. “Ow…” you said monotonously.

“You want some ice for that or…?” he smiled a wide bright smile, and you did your best to ignore something igniting deep within you.

“It’s funny, is it?” you scowled. “I could sue for this…”

Could you? You didn’t know if you could. But you were too mad to stop.

The man sighed.

“Look…we’re sorry. Parker’s sorry. Steve’s sorry, and I, Bucky, am sorry,” he told you, his voice softening. “Parker can’t play darts for shit but he’s never been a safety hazard until now. It was bad luck. He sure as hell won’t be playing again. Now, how about we get you and your friends a round of drinks on the house to apologise? And if you still wanna stay after that, you can get as much beer and pool as you want – no charge.”

You looked at Parker who was still visibly panicking but not quite as much, then Steve who watched you curiously. Wanda and Vis were nodding effusively as if encouraging you to accept his offer. You were still angry but didn’t really want to piss off the local motorcycle gang on your first night here. You were grateful for this de-escalation, even if you were still mad. You could practically see the room start to relax again.

“Fine” you sighed with defeat, rubbing the sore spot on your backside. “But a warning you were about to do that would’ve been nice”.

He laughed, “Yeah…but I didn’t want you to freak out”.

Ugh. His laugh. His perfect laugh.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed that he was right, you would’ve freaked out if you’d known. You felt yourself mellowing, then became irritated at yourself for folding so easily for a handsome man. Habit of a lifetime, huh?

“Maybe you should still ask before getting that close to someone” you muttered.

“Point taken”.

He smiled with amusement and gestured you towards the bar and you followed, nodding to Wanda and Vis that you’d be right back. The rest of the bar’s patrons went back to their drinks and conversations as if nothing had happened. The darts game continued, with Parker noticeably sitting down away from anything sharp and pointy.

“He means well…he’s new at all this,” Bucky explained as he watched your eyes follow Parker. “He gets ahead of himself when they rile him up”.

“Well, your friends thought it was hilarious”.

“Trust me, they were laughing at him. Not at you. But yeah, it was kinda funny”.

You huffed and leaned on the bar, giving him a side eye and only replying with your drink order. Bucky signalled to the bartender who nodded and looked flustered as tried to speed up serving his customer.

“Your bartender sucks” you muttered.

“I mean he’s a little slow but-,”

“No. He sucks. Why is he doing a Guinness now? You pour a Guinness first and let it settle, do the rest of the drinks, then come back and top it off,” you explained as you pointed to the sloppily poured lager he’d put on the bar. “And does your customer want any beer with that foam?”

Bucky laughed again. “Well, okay. Point taken, Sugar. Are you saying you could do better?”

“Sure. A monkey could do better…”

He laughed again, turning to look at you as he smiled and watched you with curious eyes. “What did you say your name was again…?”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #this must be the place fic #biker!bucky #motorcycle club au bucky

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delicatebarness · 2 days

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i think he knows | chapter nine

Summary: As the sneaking continues, some secrets are revealed.

Warnings: Two perspectives are used. A few uses of Y/N. A lot of dialogue between multiple characters. Mentions/Implied Underage Sex. Our girlie is sad again.

Word Count: 1498

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A/N: I wrote this chapter while sitting in a van watching big sweaty men run around with guns (all I pictured all day was winter soldier) 🤤 I edited once I got home and had calmed myself down. 🙈

Bucky's words hung in the air, it prompted a sense of anticipation. You nodded as meeting his gaze, both curiosity and concern rushed through you.

"What is it?" you asked softly, as the gravity of his tone set in.

Taking a deep breath, he reached out to take your hand in his. "I know this isn't ideal," he started, looking down at your hand rather than into your eyes he began to rub circles against your skin.

"Us, um, sneaking around, keeping this hidden." You listened intently, trying to ignore the knot forming in your stomach.

"But," he continued, his gaze found its way back to yours. "I also know that being with you is worth it." His vulnerability took you by surprise, warming your heart. "I want to make this work."

With a small smile, you squeezed his hand, silently giving him the reassurance he needed to tell you what was on his mind.

"What are we doing here?" Peter asked while looking up at the 'Stark's Motor's' sign above the rundown car and bike garage. "You know this is Tony Stark's family's business right? Tony Stark as in Bucky Barnes' friend?" Wanda had been curious about the tension between the two groups of friends, she sensed that it was deeper than simply, different personalities.

"Can I help you with something?" Tony asked as he looked Peter and Wanda up and down. They seemed familiar to him but he couldn't quite place them. Wanda looked around Tony, noticing the rest of the group gathered on sofas behind him.

Just as she expected, Bucky Barnes, for being the so-called 'leader' of the group, wasn't to be seen.

"We know about the bets," Wanda stated, gaining the attention of the whole group. The smirks that found their way to their faces proved to Wanda and Peter that the rumors were true. Concern for their friend became evident between them.

"What bets?" Natasha Romanoff questioned them, her tone guarded.

"When you bet each other on how far you can get with someone," Peter interjected before Wanda could, his voice rushed.

"What about them? You want in or something?" Loki, Peter recognized as the younger brother of Thor, questioned with a mischievous smile. He noticed that he was the only one of the gang who would ever show their face to the game.

"No," Wanda began to make her way around the service counter, moving closer to the group of friends. "We want you to tell us what our friend did to deserve being a part of your games," she demanded, standing her ground.

Natasha rolled her eyes before standing up, closing the distance between herself and Wanda in an attempt to intimidate her. "Who's your friend?" she asked curiously while crossing her arms over her chest.

"Y/N Rogers," Peter answered for Wanda, she was intensely looking up at Natasha with furrowed brows. "Steve Rogers' little sister." A silence surrounded the garage at the mention of Rogers.

"She's been on the off-limits list for, what, two years now?" Peter Quill spoke up while looking around the group of his friends. The worst 'bad boy' in the group had, barely got into any trouble, and wasn't mischievous; he just liked to tell jokes and wear a red leather jacket.

"What's the off-limits list?" They asked Quill simultaneously, snapping their heads in his direction. Catching the moment Stark punched him in the arm, he had said too much.

Sighing, Natasha seemingly began to relax more around the other students, going back to where she had previously been sitting. “The list of people we, under no circumstances, are allowed to bet on,” she explained, her voice still hinting at the annoyance the pair was causing. “She’s been on that list since her first day of freshman year?” she continued, looking around at her friends to confirm the amount of time. They all nodded in agreement.

“Too bad the same couldn’t have been said for her brother,” a sense of amusement in Stark’s voice as he spoke under his breath.

“Oh yeah, Natasha lost Buck some real cash on that one.” Quill laughed before taking a drink from the bottle he’d been nursing since Wanda and Peter arrived.

Wanda and Peter shot each other a glance, a silent conversation of understanding happening between them. As they exchanged the silent vow to uncover more, they turned about to the group, knowing they were diving into dangerous waters. Bucky and his friends were the most feared pack in the school, only Steve and his friends weren’t worried about getting on their bad side. Even then, a few of them still watched their backs.

“We need to know everything,” Wanda exclaimed, causing the group to bring their attention back to the younger peers.

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, but there was a slight hint of respect for the girl. “You two don’t know when to quit, do you?” she muttered under her breath. Ignoring Natasha’s remark, the two friends stood their ground. Not moving until someone talked.

Bucky hesitated for a moment, struggling to find the right words. Taking a deep breath, his heart pounded. “Back in freshman year, I… I made a bet with Natasha,” he admitted.

Your brow furrowed with confusion, “What kind of bet?” You asked, voice trembling slightly, you felt like you already knew the answer. Hearing it aloud, you feared it would make it real.

His gaze dropped from yours as he swallowed hard, “I bet that she couldn’t sleep with Steve,” he confessed, your hand dropped from him as your body went into a state of shock. Your mind went back to the night before, how he reassured you that you weren’t a part of it. You remember now that he never denied the fact that they do make bets. “I didn’t think she would do it, Y/N,” he looked up, his eyes filled with remorse as he called you by your name rather than his nickname for you.

“Why?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over your heart pounding. “If you didn’t think she would, why did you?”

“We were freshmen, we were just having fun,” he sighed, trying to defend himself and the friends he saw as family. “He was an easy target back, a try-hard, it was supposed to be a joke,” he ran a hand through his hair, as he rushed his words.

The weight of his confession sank into your bones. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Disbelief surged through you, you couldn’t process everything at once. His reasoning only added to the turmoil swirling inside.

There was a silence settling between you, your breathing and the background noise for the diner was the only sound. The image of Steve, oblivious to the wager placed on him, added another layer of hurt.

You finally found your voice, it trembled as you held back tears. Not only were you hurting for your brother but, you couldn’t help shake the feeling that Bucky was lying about you. “How could you?” you questioned.

“I know I messed up,” Bucky’s voice softened, his hand reaching out as if to bridge the growing distance. “I mean, it’s most likely the main reason he wants me nowhere near you,” his words trailed off, and you turned away.

You looked everywhere but in Bucky’s direction, afraid of the tears threatening to spill. “I’m guessing she then discarded him like he never mattered?” you asked, recounting the warning Steve had given you about Bucky and his friends.

Another sigh from Bucky. “After everything, Steve caught feelings for her but it was just a game to her so she ignored him and has since,” he explained as he played with the straw in his milkshake glass. “It wasn’t until a couple of months later that he found out it was a bet, a bet that I started,” he began mumbling to himself about wishing he had a smoke or a drink before continuing. “We’ve never been okay since, which I understand on some level, but, he came out stronger I guess,” the confused look behind your teary eyes made his heart clench. “That was when he suddenly gained muscle and became the star athlete he is today.”

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, you struggled to hear it yourself as you tried to find the words.

Bucky nodded, he understood that telling you would have been painful. He saw the amount of compassion and empathy you carried in your heart, he knew it was risky for him to tell you the truth. He wished he could tell you, we fought once over nothing but stupid boy stuff, but, he couldn’t.

“I understand,” he replied softly, his head dropped landing his gaze on the table between you. “I’m sorry I hurt you, and Steve. I just, I don’t want there to be secrets between us as well.” Even though your heart ached for your brother and Bucky’s confession, you offered him a small nod.

- - -

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scoonsalicious · 15 hours

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Unwanted: Chapter 25, Unprotected - Pt. 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, medical procedures, Pocket getting called out on her shit, deep discussions, mentions of drug use and anonymous sex.

Word Count: 2.7k

Previously On...: You woke up in the hospital to some quite... surprising news.

A/N: LET THE HEALING SORT OF BEGIN! I AM READY FOR IT.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

A few hours later, you were discharged with antibiotics to stave off any potential infection and over-the counter iron tablets to help replenish all the blood you’d lost. The car ride back to the safehouse was awkward in its heavy silence, the only words spoken between you and Bucky were when you asked to stop at the local pharmacy to buy out their stock of hydrogen peroxide. You’d need to tackle those blood stains in your bedroom before they had time to fully set.

As you walked in the door to the apartment, Bucky on your heels, you took in the space as he would be seeing it for the very first time– it was an absolute mess, with clothes strewn about, fast food wrappers and empty liquor bottles littering every available surface. You watched his eyes as they raked over the mess, pausing to linger on the empty condom wrappers your last Bad Decision had left on the coffee table, next to the remnants of the coke you two had done.

“What the fuck is this?” he asked. “Did someone break in and trash the place while you were in the hospital?”

You grabbed a discarded bra from the back of an armchair, where Bad Decision #... something, had tossed it in his hurry to get at you. “Wasn’t exactly expecting company,” you grumbled defensively.

Bucky laughed nervously. “What, so you’ve just been having random sex and getting drunk everyday?” The look he gave you was desperate, as though begging you to contradict him, to tell him it was all some sort of joke you were playing on him, but you just stood there in silence, not meeting his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Pocket, this isn’t you,” Bucky exhaled. “None of this is who you are. What have you been doing to yourself?”

“No,” you scoffed, “this is who you made me, Barnes. So, if you have a problem with what I’ve become, you’ve only got yourself to blame.” You opened your arms wide to encompass the entire apartment, and by extension, the evidence of your downward spiral. “Welcome to the consequences of your own actions!”

“Fuck.” Bucky ran a tired hand down his face after a moment of stunned silence. “I did do this to you, didn’t I? God, I’m so sorry, Pocket. If I could take it back, I would. I know that’s just more empty words, and you’re probably sick of hearing them, but it’s the truth. Hurting you is the biggest regret of my life.”

“Yet, you keep doing it,” you said, sighing heavily. You flopped down on the couch, exhausted and sore. The nurse had warned you there’d be residual cramping, and had insisted that regular ibuprofen would take care of it, but you’d already had six-hundred milligrams and were still aching. You wondered briefly if you had any oxy left from the club, but decided that getting high in front of Bucky was probably not the smartest move you could make right now, so you opted to deal.

Bucky walked over and made a move like he was about to sit down next to you, but something caught his eye. Bending over, he ran a finger through the white powder residue on the coffee table, bringing it to his tongue to taste.

“Shit,” he said, making a face. “Pocket, is this cocaine?!”

“What are you, McGruff the Crime Dog?” you asked sarcastically, before realizing the reference was probably completely wasted on him. He just continued to stare at you expectantly. “So what if it is?” You asked with a shrug.

“Since when do you do coke?” Bucky asked incredulously. You really didn’t like the way he was looking at you at the moment. Like he had opened the fridge, looking for a carton of milk, but instead found a giraffe in a three-piece suit.

“Since I ran out of oxy,” you said nonchalantly. “And molly.”

A change came over Bucky’s features, and you watched them go hard, judging. “You’ve been doing all this– the drinking, the drugs, sleeping around with god knows who, while you’ve been pregnant?! What? It wasn’t enough to kill our baby, you had to try to kill yourself in the process? Do you know how absolutely fucking stupid you’re being?!” He was shouting at you now, the anger he’d been holding at bay since the hospital coming out in full force.

You stood back up, taking in a shuddering breath. You hadn’t expected him to blow up at you so unexpectedly. “I didn’t know,” you said softly, voice trembling. “I didn’t know I was pregnant.”

“Would it have made a fucking difference?” he roared. “You already admitted you would have aborted it if you had known! Can you honestly say you wouldn’t have risked the baby’s health– your health– even if you did know?”

You didn’t have an answer to that. “I don’t know,” you whispered.

“Pocket,” the anger seemed to leave Bucky almost as quickly as it had come, “if you hadn’t gotten medical attention right when you did, you could have died. You could have bled out, gone into septic shock. This miscarriage could have fucking killed you. Do you know what that would have done to me? To Sam and Steve? Nat, Wanda, Pepper? What it would have done to fucking Tony?” You were hit with a sudden wave of guilt. In your spiral, you hadn’t considered for a moment what your actions would have meant to the people who loved you. You only cared about forgetting your own pain.

“When you were getting dressed to come home, I asked the nurse what could have caused the miscarriage. One of the things she mentioned was heavy drug use, but I didn’t pay it any attention. I thought ‘no, not my Pocket, she’s too smart to do something so incredibly dumb; has to be something else.’ But here you are, throwing your entire life away. And for what? Some cheap thrills? And now, you’ve gone and lost a baby and you don’t even care!”

It was too much. His words were getting to be too much, and you were dangerously close to losing it. “Of course I fucking care!” you sobbed, the damn breaking and setting free a flood of tears you’d been pretending weren’t just waiting to spill. “I had our baby– ours, yours and mine– and I fucking lost it because I needed to forget how much pain I was in! How much you fucking made me hurt! It’s been almost two months and I still want to die when I think about you with her. I want to fucking die.”

Bucky’s arms were around you as you collapsed into him, gasping for air between choking sobs. “I close my eyes, and it’s all I can see,” you wailed. “I’ve fucked so many men trying to forget about you, to feel anything besides despair, but all they do is remind me of what I’m missing, what I lost. All the drinking, the drugs, all the sex– I just wanted to forget, to have a few minutes where I could pretend my life wasn’t ruined, that the best thing I ever had hadn’t been stolen away from me!”

Bucky held you tighter, rubbing soothing patterns into your back in an attempt to calm you. “And I just keep losing,” you cried. “I lost you, I lost our baby, I lost Chloe.”

If Bucky wondered who Chloe was, he knew it wasn’t the right time to ask. “Hey,” he said, tilting your chin up so you were looking at him and wiping the tears from your cheeks, “you haven’t lost me. I’m still right here. I know I fucked up. I don’t expect you to forgive me; I don’t deserve it, but I’m always going to be here, no matter what. And, okay, you lost this baby. But that doesn’t mean you won’t have a chance for another.”

“I don’t want someone else’s baby,” you told him, wiping at the tears that just wouldn’t stop coming, and choosing to completely ignore the fact that you’d lost him in every way that actually mattered. “This was the only chance for our baby, and I destroyed it! It’s the universe’s way of telling me I’m not supposed to be a mother.”

“Why the fuck would you think that?” Bucky asked accusingly. “What makes you think you wouldn’t be an amazing mom?”

You let out a hard laugh through your tears. “What the fuck do I know about being a mother?” you asked him bitterly. “It’s not like I had a shining example of one growing up. All I know how to do is push people away. To make them not love me.” That was the sick truth, your exhausted brain and broken heart were telling you in the moment: your biological father, your mother, Bucky. All of them had turned from you, had pulled their love at the first opportunity. A logical part of your brain would have known this wasn’t the case, and that you had so many more people who did love you, but you weren’t running on logic right now.

“Stop,” Bucky begged, voice cracking. “That’s not true. Sweetheart, that’s not true. You are so damn easy to love, I fell for you immediately. I know you don’t believe it, but I never stopped loving you. I’m never gonna stop loving you.”

“Then why, Bucky?” you cried, clinging to him, desperate for an answer that made sense. “Why did you do this to me?”

Bucky pulled you down onto the couch with him, cradling you in his lap. He gently rocked you back and forth. “Because I’m broken, sweets. I’m broken, and I’m stupid, and I let my anger get the best of me. I was so convinced that you were too good for me, that I didn’t deserve you, that I sabotaged us to prove myself right. But none of that is worth seeing you like this. None of that was worth putting you through all the hurt I did. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Nothing I say can undo it. Nothing I do is gonna change what happened, fix the damage I did to you. All I can do is show you that it’s never gonna happen again, whether or not you ever end up forgivin’ me. There’s never gonna be another girl for me, and if you never want me again, that’s okay; I’ll understand. I deserve it and I’ll learn to live with it, but it’s not gonna change how I feel. You’ll be the last girl I’ll ever make love to, even if you decide you never wanna give me another chance.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that. Simply because you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to give him another chance. But that reminded you– there was something you wanted to address with him.

“I’m sorry,” you told him softly.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you with a tilt of his head. “What are you sorry about, doll? I’m the one who should be spending the rest of their life apologizin’ to you.”

You turned away from him. “I’m sorry about what Hydra did to you,” you said. When he didn’t say anything, you went on: “I, uh, asked Sam,” you continued. “About what you’d told me with the sparring and how you get… excited.” You felt him still beneath you, but didn’t want to lose your nerve. “I’m sorry that I doubted that they put you through that kind of abuse, and I’m so sorry it happened to you. And… I’m– I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel like I was a safe person you could share that part of your past with.”

Bucky let out an agonizingly slow breath. “Sweets,” he began, “it was never about feeling like you weren’t a safe place for me to be open about it. Not once.”

You took in a shuddering breath, hating that you were making this moment, in a way, about you. “But… you told Steve, and Sam and– and… her. But you didn’t tell me.” You risked a glance at him, afraid he was going to be angry at you, but all you saw was patience in his eyes. “I must have said or done something that made you feel like you couldn’t share it with me, and whatever that was, I’m sorry.”

Bucky shook his head sadly and rubbed his human hand up and down your back. “No, baby.” He exhaled. “It was never like that. I didn’t tell you, because I was ashamed.”

You raised your eyes and gave him a questioning look.

“I could tell Sam, and Steve, and even Carthage, because I didn’t give a shit if they thought I was… fucked up… sexually. It didn’t matter what they thought about it, because, well, I wasn’t trying to impress them, to make them want me, want to be with me. But you?” He brought his vibranium hand up to cup your face, turning it so you were looking at him. “I didn’t want you lookin’ at me and thinkin’ that I was broken, that I didn’t… didn’t work right in the way I wanted you the most. I’d never be able to stand it. I was just so ashamed and embarrassed; and I couldn’t stand the thought of you lookin’ at me the way I looked at myself.”

“Barnes,” you offered with a small, small smile, “I have never, not once, even considered you were broken, sexually. Not before I found out, and certainly not after. In fact, I’ve spent the last two months desperately trying to make myself forget just how not fucked up you are in that department.”

Bucky cleared his throat. “Just, uh, outta curiosity, sweets, how many attempts at forgetting are we talking about here?”

You scrunched up your mouth. “You seriously want to know how many guys I’ve fucked since we broke up, Barnes?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders in a completely failed attempt at seeming nonchalant. “Like I said, just curious. What are we talking… like, two? Three?”

You snorted. Multiply that by ten, you thought. “You really don’t want to know, Barnes. Trust me.”

“Jesus Christ,” he moaned. “More than three?!”

You shrugged awkwardly. “It’s really not any of your business, Bucky.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he said. “Yeah, yeah, I know it’s not. I just can’t stand the fucking thought of someone else putting their hands on you,” he said through clenched teeth.

You raised a brow and gave him a sarcastic look. “Hypocrite much?” you asked, though there was no bite behind your words.

Bucky lowered his head, not meeting your gaze. “Givin’ me a taste of my own medicine, huh, doll? Well, can’t say it’s not fucking bitter, or that I don’t deserve it.”

“I didn’t do it with the purpose of hurting you,” you told him, feeling your tears start to build again. “I did it to get over you. To forget you.”

He brushed a tear from your lashes. “Did it work, doll?” he asked, voice low. “Did you forget? Are you over it?”

You hadn’t. Of course you fucking hadn’t. But you didn’t want him knowing that. Not fully; it was enough though, knowing that he’d felt even a fraction of the jealousy you’d felt. “Hard to say,” you told him, instead. “Maybe the twenty-ninth time’ll be the charm.”

Bucky spluttered and gasped for breath. “TWENTY-NINTH TIME?!? Are you telling me you’ve fucked twenty-eight pieces of shit since you’ve been down here?!” Almost as soon as his frustration burst from him itself, it had died out. “Not my business,” he said, though you could tell he was struggling.

You’d had enough tormenting him for the night, so you snuggled further into his chest. “Not a single one of them made me forget for a second,” you told him, tilting your head up to look into his eyes. Bucky chuffed and leaned down to kiss the top of your head, and for the first time in months, you felt a hint of the safety you used to feel with him. It was small, but it was there, a tiny ember in a fire you’d feared had long died out. With a rattling sigh, you rested your head against his chest as he continued to rock you, and soon, you were lulled asleep to the sound of his steady, familiar, beloved heartbeat.

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