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chokemewanda · 2 years

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Begin Again

Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Masterlist

Part two / Part Three

Warnings: pining, tfatws spoilers, Spiderman nwh spoilers, slight angst

Bucky saw you for the first time since the days following the final battle with Thanos in Sam’s favorite coffee shop in Louisiana. It was a tiny, hole in the wall and the coffee was mediocre at best. Sam only went there because his parents had their first date in the very same booth you were now sitting in.

Of all the places he had expected to see you again, well, it hadn’t been here. He had hoped in those first few months that you’d come back, show up on his doorstep like you had never left. He gave up on that thought, knowing he’d probably never see you again.

He imagined that very same smile you wore right now and how he’d tell you what he had never told you. All those things he had held inside. The things he should have told you when you showed up in Wakanda with Steve.

The space across from you was empty but there was a coffee waiting for whoever would join you. Bucky knew it was for him. He didn’t know how you found him, how you always found him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Bucky took his seat and your smile only grew as you looked him over in a way that made him wish he had shaved this morning or done something with his hair.

“James, how are you?” You didn’t act surprised in the slightest to see him almost two thousand miles from his home. In your defense, you had never been surprised. Not where Bucky was concerned.

“Good, ‘m good.” He told you and you raised an eyebrow, looking him over again in a way that convinced him you lied when you said you couldn’t read minds. “I didn’t know you were back on Earth.”

“Not very long. Came to see you first. You weren’t in your apartment.” You asked in that way that wasn’t really asking. You did that a lot and in the beginning Bucky had presumed it was disinterest on your part. Now he knew that you never had to ask, not really.

“Sam wanted to see his family.” Bucky offered in explanation and you tilted your head. He knew what you were thinking. A lot had happened since you had left with Thor to join the rag tag group that called themselves the Guardians of the Galaxy.

“Things are better.” There was that question that wasn’t really a question. Bucky knew it was easy to tell by looking at him. He wasn’t the PTSD ridden nightmare you had left behind. He still had his moments but there was better ones now. Happy ones.

“How long are you staying for?” He didn’t mean Louisiana. He didn’t want you to leave and yet he knew you would. Your wanderlust spanned further than tropical holidays. You wanted to see the universe. As much of it as possible. He knew that.

“A while. I want to check in with everyone. Drink your coffee, it’s your favorite.” He didn’t tell you that his tastes had changed in the time you had been gone. He no longer favored bitter, black coffee. He knew by glancing at the cup you had already known. The frothy milk stared back at him. “Where’s Sam?”

“With his sister and the kids.” Bucky answered before taking a drink the vanilla hitting his tongue and making him hum. “You wanna go see him?”

“We’ve got time. Wanted to see you first.” You told him honestly, taking his vibranium hand across the table. “Missed you.”

“So why’d you leave then?” He asked before he could stop himself. He had grown slightly bitter in your time apart. Everyone left him. Everyone important to him. Steve was gone, Natasha was gone and here you were, popping up like nothing had changed.

“You didn’t need me as much as you thought you did.” You told him, not releasing his hand. Bucky had usually found comfort in your calm. He had gravitated towards you every time you had been near him. Now it grated on his nerves.

“Could’ve used your help once or twice.” He grunted and you only smiled. He sipped his coffee with his free hand and you mimicked him, sipping at your own. “Sam gave up the mantle.”

“Why did he do that?” You already knew. He could see it in your eyes. He saw it in your eyes the day Steve gave Sam the shield. The day before you left.

“Thought no one could fill Steve’s shoes.” Bucky grunted again, eyes on where your hands were joined. He pulled his own hand back, resting it in his lap. “There was trouble. A lot of it.”

“So tell me about it.” Bucky tried to explain everything. Explain Karli and John Walker and all that had happened. He told you about that kid, he really was just a kid, that John had killed. He told you about it all and how he had played into it.

You listened to it as your coffee grew cold and he found himself telling you other things. He told you about Yuri, how he felt about Steve leaving. He stopped himself before telling you how he felt about you leaving.

“He’s a good man. Sam.” Bucky finished and you nodded slowly as you took it all in. He waited for your response but nodding seemed to be all you were going to offer. “How much of that did you know?”

“Very little.” You admitted in a rare show of honesty. Bucky appraised you as you seemed to be thinking hard about something. “Why didn’t you call in the others?”

“The others?” Bucky asked in confusion and you blinked at him. He only shrugged. He wasn’t sure why it hadn’t crossed his mind. This was something he and Sam had to do together.

“Wanda could’ve helped. Clint, Peter or even Bruce.” You supplied and Bucky tilted his head, eyebrows furrowed.

“Quil was with you.” He said and then wondered if you had been with Thor all this time. You weren’t the type to stick around for too long. Something you demonstrated time and time again.

“Not Peter Quil. Parker, Peter Parker.” Bucky shook his head with a shrug and a genuine frown replaced your usual neutral expression. “You have been checking up on him? Right? Like I asked you to?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Bucky said slowly and your frown deepened as you sat forward, elbows on the table. “I don’t know a Peter Parker.”

“Have you been forgetting again?” You asked softly and Bucky flinched back as if you had struck him. He didn’t forget anything anymore and sometimes that was the problem. He wished he could forget sometimes, wished the pain would be taken away when he couldn’t remember the loss.

“No. I don’t do that anymore.” He argued and you sat back, frowning again. He watched as your frown slipped away to something more neutral. You finished your coffee, indicating for him to do the same.

“I’d like to see Sam now, if that okay.” You told him and Bucky felt doubt claw at his mind. Was he beginning to forget again? He tossed a couple of dollars on the table and led you from the coffee shop.

///

“Look who it is.” Sam cheered when you stepped in behind Bucky. He was sat at the table with his nephews working on some sort of Lego set. He stood to greet you, wrapping you in a warm hug.

“Long time no see, Captain America.” You smiled and Sam’s grin only grew, his gap tooth making an appearance and endearing you so much that you hugged him again. “I missed you.”

Bucky didn’t feel so special anymore when he heard your words. He stood in the doorway with his arms folded and Sam only had to look at him once to know something was wrong.

“I spend months trying to get this hard ass to smile and one conversation with you turns him sour.” Sam berated and you shrugged, looking back at Bucky with a gentle smile.

“Can we talk?” You asked Sam and he looked to Bucky who only sighed, taking a seat at the table with Sam’s nephews. He engaged them in conversation as the pair of you slipped out the door.

“Something wrong?” Sam asked immediately, his carefree attitude long gone, his smile too. You only linked your arm with his, walking aimlessly away from the house belonging to his sister. “You know I’ve had enough trouble with Bucky this last while. I don’t need you helping him out.”

“Have you noticed the holes in his memory?” You asked and Sam stopped in place, looking back to the house. He had left Bucky alone with his family. “He’s not dangerous. I don’t think. He’s just forgetting.”

“What’d he forget?” Sam asked, still hesitating on going any further away. He had left his shield in the house. “Your anniversary?”

“Don’t be funny. He doesn’t remember Peter.” You explained, heart aching for the child who had been abandoned. He’d be almost college age now and you frowned.

“Space lord? The guy you left with?” Sam asked, evidentially catching up on your concern. “Man, he talks about you guys like once a week. Always on my ass about what you could be doing.”

You smiled gently before taking in Sam’s words, eyebrows furrowing again as your frown returned. Quil should not be their automatic presumption for a Peter.

“Peter Parker.” You said slowly and Sam shook his head. “Spiderman?”

“I shouldn’t be surprised you know Spiderman too. You’ll have to introduce him to us. Could always use a helping hand.” Sam laughed and you stepped back from him, tilting your head.

“You’ve met him. You know him.” You told Sam who shook his head. “Yes you do, Sam. He was there, in the battle. He was at Tony’s funeral. He’s just a kid.”

“I’ve never met Spiderman. Either has Bucky.” Sam told you slowly and you withdrew from the conversation entirely, a hand covering your mouth as you absorbed the information.

Excuses could be made for Bucky forgetting Peter. Shuri worked wonders on his mind but there could’ve been things that slipped through. Sam had no such excuse and that scared you. It scared you more than you were willing to admit.

///

Sam returned to the house without you, resting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder gently. “You’re not forgetting.”

“She seemed sure I was.” Bucky told him but Sam only shook his head, taking his seat at the table and continuing to help his nephews with their Lego. Bucky looked back to the door, wishing you’d be standing there, that same smile on your lips.

You didn’t come back.

Summer is officially here along with all the ideas I’ve been suppressing since college started back. So please accept the spam of fics I’ll be posting

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misshoneybee · 2 years

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⟣ 𝑌𝑂𝑈'𝑅𝐸 𝑀𝑌 𝐴𝐶𝐻𝐼𝐿𝐿𝐸𝑆 𝐻𝐸𝐸𝐿 ⟢

— 𝑉𝐼𝐼𝐼. 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐴𝐿𝐿 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑃𝐼𝐸𝐶𝐸𝑆 𝐹𝐴𝐿𝐿

Masterpost — OFC Biography — Playlists — Chapter VII — Chapter IX

❧ Pairings | Post-Endgame!Bucky Barnes x Original Female Character, Previous Steve Rogers x Original Female Character

❧ Warnings | Mature content, explicit language, slight angst, some pining, TFATWS spoilers, smut (fingering, p in v sex, very light dom/sub dynamic, dirty talking)

❧ Wordcount | ~9.2k

❧ Disclaimer | Dividers are by firefly-graphics. If you are a minor, or do not have your age in your bio, and I catch you interacting with this, you will be blocked. If you believe you were blocked unfairly, send me an ask with your url.

You make everyone disappear and, Cut me into pieces, Gold cage, hostage to my feelings ( So It Goes… | Reputation )

April 19, 2024

Two weeks had glacially passed since she’d spoken to Bucky and the apartment beside Maggie’s had sat in complete silence since she’d returned home from Washington almost four days earlier. As soon as she’d gotten out of the town car that had brought her from the airport to Brooklyn, she’d gone to his door without bothering to drop anything off at her own place first. Sure, she felt, and probably looked, a little haggard from traveling and hadn’t slept well in almost six days, but she had to see him.

He was the only person that she’d wanted to talk to. She hadn’t spoken to Sam; there was no way that he’d known what the defense department had planned but she was certain that Bucky had to have been just as upset as she was, if not more. Rapping her knuckles against the dark brown wood, she waited for a moment for any type of response but there’d been nothing but a heavy silence behind his door.

After a few more knocks, and calling his name softly, she’d hesitated, resting a hand, flat against the barrier. Either he wasn’t home, or he didn’t want to see her; she could only hope it was the former and not the latter. Maybe she’d still been a little upset by the low blow he’d dealt but Bucky was the only person who’d understand the way she felt.

Mrs. Kirsch from down the hall had spotted Maggie fiddling with her keys and asked where ‘that sweet Barnes boy had gone’ because she hadn’t seen him in quite a few days. Making up something about a work trip that he’d needed to go on, she’d quickly found an excuse about not feeling well to avoid the old woman who tended to ramble once she got started.

‘She hadn’t seen him in a few days?’

Dragging her bags inside, Maggie had quickly locked the door behind her. She’d needed to sit on the floor and gather herself as the racing thoughts in her brain jumped to light speed. He’d left; he’d moved. In the few days that she’d been gone, he’d decided that she was far too much to deal with, or to be annoyed by, and that he’d be better off not being her neighbor so he’d moved. Hadn't he?

There was no other explanation; like almost everyone else, he’d left.

Of course, Maggie knew that she was being unreasonable; maybe he’d actually needed to go do something for his pardon or maybe he’d taken some kind of trip but surely, he hadn’t just up and left. Perhaps Carolyn had been on to something when she’d told Maggie that she had abandonment issues. Eventually, she’d pulled herself from her spot on the floor and thrown herself in to anything and everything in an attempt to not think about him or the shield or anything related to either.

She’d cleaned, and gotten ahead on paperwork, and even caught up on some television shows that she’d fallen far behind on. Maybe, sometimes, she’d pause her music to listen for any noise in the apartment next to hers or she’d run to the door and check through the peephole anytime she heard footsteps out in the hall. But she definitely didn’t knock on his door and pretend to need to borrow a cup of sugar…twice—she didn’t even know if he had any sugar. One attempt had resulted in Mrs. Kirsch overhearing her again, offering the confection, and talking to Maggie until her phone rang and the younger woman was finally able to escape after an hour of mind-numbing, one-sided conversation.

It was just before five in the morning and her phone sounded possessed. The notifications were coming faster than the alerts could chime and they refused to stop. Eventually, Maggie grumpily shoved her glasses on her face and flipped the switch of her lamp. Sifting through the blankets that occupied her bed, she finally found the ringing device and let out an annoyed groan as the bright, blue light momentarily blinded her. Poppy had sent no less than fifteen text messages about some video. In her half-asleep stupor, she scanned the messages for any type of context but only one word caught her eye: Barnes.

Suddenly, she was wide awake, and it felt as though a shot of espresso had been injected directly into her veins. Fingers fumbling over themselves, she eventually found the video and felt a weight on her chest.

‘Winter Soldier Takes Down Mafia in Madripoor!!!’ was the tacky, clickbait title and there, on her little phone screen, was the man that she hadn’t seen for two weeks. Where the hell was he? She considered herself pretty well traveled but she’d never even heard of Madripoor. Ignoring that, she pressed play and let the grainy video roll.

“Oh god.” Maggie exhaled softly, wide-eyed as she watched Bucky, somewhere in a bar, striking down men one by one as they came at him. He slammed them into one another, against columns and on the bar, tossing them more like ragdolls than people. The whirring of his arm was audible with each swing and jab, but the short video cut just as she heard the cocking of several guns.

“No—” A pit grew in her stomach. Bucky was a lot of things but bulletproof wasn’t one of them.

As much as Maggie tried to drag the little line at the bottom of her screen, it didn’t budge. That was where the video had ended. Immediately, she stumbled out of bed and dialed his number. She hadn’t called or texted or even tried to figure out where he’d gone at all in the last week, but now she had to know that he was okay, that he was still…him. Things couldn’t have gone to shit so quickly, could they? Pacing the creaky wooden floor of her bedroom, a hand rested on her forehead, and she closed her eyes as the endless dial tone continued; God, she felt sick.

A click from the other end of the line made her perk up but she faltered when it was only his voicemail. She debated on leaving one at all, but as the beep told her to begin speaking, the words just seemed to fall from her mouth, “It’s me.” Biting her lip, she rested her head against the door frame as she spoke without any idea of where she was going, “I just—I haven’t heard from you. And I know we left things…in a bad place, but I saw that video and I—”

Cutting herself off, Maggie took a deep breath before any tears could come; he had to be okay. With a sigh, she finally admitted, “I just need to know you’re okay. And I know you might still be mad at me and that’s okay because I’m still a little mad at you too but I just…I really care for you, Bucky.” It felt odd to use his nickname, like her mouth wasn’t used to forming the word, but it had come out so naturally, “Just…call me back when you get this. Please.”

Hanging up, she tossed her phone back where she’d found it and buried her face in her hands, ignoring Alpine’s yowling complaint from where he slept on the foot of her bed. Shooting him a dirty look, her phone had gone nowhere near him, she flipped on the overhead light instead of returning to her warm blankets.

Sleep wouldn’t come back to her, but she certainly hoped that he would.

April 21, 2024

John Walker was the man who’d been touted as ‘The New Captain America’ and that alone had been enough to make Maggie’s blood boil. Typically, she wasn’t a violent person but something about him made her furious, and she had a suspicion that if she ever met him, her hands would speak before she did. The idea that someone, who Steve had never even known, was carrying his shield while pretending to uphold everything that he’d stood for, was almost enough to make her fly back to the capital and raise whatever hell she could.

It should have been Sam and when he’d decided not to take on all of the baggage that came along with the mantle, it should have been no one. It certainly shouldn’t have been some awful man with wild eyes who’d used it to bludgeon someone to death, in broad daylight, as he begged for his life.

Whoever the man had been, he hadn’t deserved to die like that, regardless of affiliations.

And John Walker certainly didn’t deserve to have his name associated with Steve’s in any way. Like a train wreck that she couldn’t tear her eyes from, in the days following his announcement, she’d found out whatever she could about the man. Perhaps she’d used some professional connections to get more information that she shouldn’t necessarily have had access to, but she had to know everything. She didn’t know it was possible to hate a person more.

Seeing the familiar metal covered in blood had been enough to make her sick which was how Maggie had found herself sitting on the cold floor of her little bathroom. Pressing a cool washcloth to her bare face as she leaned against the wall, she counted each breath. How had they chosen him? Did they not do any psych evaluations? Wasn’t there some screening process or interviews? There was no way they’d allow him to keep the shield after what he’d done…was there?

After everything that had happened, she had very little trust in the government to do anything right at all, so perhaps they would.

In the background of the cellphone-filmed video that she’d seen on the news, she’d spotted Sam and Bucky amongst the crowd. They’d brought her the tiniest sliver of comfort before she’d watched in horror as the assault took place in some picturesque, city square in Eastern Europe. Before that though, she’d noticed that, at least Bucky had looked like himself; he no longer had that scary, blank look in his eye that had been present when she’d seen the video from Madripoor.

Looking at her phone resting face down on the floor beside her, she knew it would go unanswered, but decided to try again anyway for the second time that week. As her call was sent to voicemail again, she ignored how echoey the tile and glass room made her voice sound, “It’s me again.” Pausing, Maggie gave a humorless laugh, “I…don’t even really know why I called. I guess I just wanted to check in again. To make sure you were okay.”

Tracing a finger over the rough grout between the tiles, she felt her chest tighten, “I really need you to be okay, Buck. I want you to come back.” Pausing, she added, “To come home.” Home. She’d called a lot of places had been home over the years, but only few people had felt like it; in the short time they’d known one another, he’d become one of them. It felt futile when there was no answer, like she was speaking into the void instead of to someone else.

Sighing, she tilted her head back and looked at the white ceiling, “I don’t know if you’re sending me through to voicemail, I don’t think you even know how to do that, or if it’s because you’re somewhere on the other side of the world, but I just really…wish I could talk to you right now. I miss you.”

Though the words were a little stilted, she was painfully earnest. Somewhere along the way, he’d come to mean a lot more to her than she ever thought he would. As he’d helped to patch up her shredded tapestry, Bucky had somehow managed to find a little place to take up residence in her mostly occupied heart as well and she hadn’t realized it until the words had fallen from her lips.

She really, really missed him.

Swallowing the lump in her throat as she realized that she’d been silently sitting on the line for several seconds, Maggie finished quietly, “call me,” before clicking the little red button on her screen.

April 26, 2024

Watching the events uptown unfold, there was a small, selfish part of Maggie that was grateful she’d declined her invitation to be present for the vote and hadn’t attended out of obligation or her pathological people pleasing habit. She was supposed to have been there as a liaison between the GRC and the Stark Foundation; she was meant to attend but she couldn’t support them, not when their decision would hurt so many people.

The vote hadn’t even taken place and the news coverage had been nonstop for what felt like hours after the Flag Smashers had infiltrated to stop it and make an example. Sitting on her couch, curled up safely in a throw blanket with Alpine resting soundly on her lap, there was a little blossom of pride blooming in her chest as she listened to her friend censure the GRC representatives. She’d been furious when the shield had passed through Walker’s hands but seeing Sam with it just felt right.

It still stung, just a little, to know that Steve would never carry the shield again but if it was their friend who held it, she was sure that she’d feel okay someday. In the background of the shots of Sam speaking, her eyes had been drawn Bucky like a magnet as he stood among a small group of people. Some of the tension melted away; she’d know that stocky build and cocky walk anywhere. He was home. Well, he was in the city, at least, only a borough away.

Cursing as the footage cut away to some reporters in a studio, she flipped through a few more channels before giving up and dropping her head back against the couch. She assumed that he’d need to speak with some people and answer some questions before he could finally return home. Although she’d deny it if she were asked, she was eagerly awaiting his return. It had been three weeks since she’d seen him, and she’d give just about anything to hear his smart-ass quips and see his scruff-riddled face; she just wanted something tangible just to know that he was okay.

It was as if her brain didn’t understand the concept of not worrying. What if something happened to him? What if he’d gotten hurt after he’d gotten out of the news camera’s view? Or if there was another attack? Finally, Maggie forced herself to shut off the television’s sound and turn on some radio station to avoid sitting in the blaring silence that was encouraging her brain to run wild.

Bucky had managed to grow on her like ivy climbing a stone-wall cottage; it was something that she hadn’t noticed until it had wrapped around her ribs and brought pieces of her back to life after a long, cold winter. It made sense that she was worried. As her fingers absentmindedly brushed over the purring ball of white fluff in her lap, her eyes stayed trained on the silent picture, hungry for more news that she knew likely wouldn’t come soon.

April 27, 2024

The heaviness in Bucky’s limbs was almost distracting as he dragged himself back to the familiar apartment building in Brooklyn. God, he felt old. It had been a long night. After the fight had ended, he’d ensured that Sharon got the aid she needed before leaving when she’d threatened him with a blatant, annoyed gesture to her gun to stop hovering ‘like some weirdo.’

The exhaustion had caught up to him as he ran a hand over his face, standing before his door. Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, he fished for a key that wasn’t there. Letting out a quiet groan, he dropped his forehead against the cold wood. Sometime in the chaos of the week, he’d lost his damn key. The watch on his wrist read just past midnight. Of course, he could easily break through the door and its lock, but he knew that the landlord would be hard-pressed to forgive that event…especially for a second time.

His eyes landed on the apartment just beside his own. Perhaps he needed to make amends with two people, rather than just one. After the last few months of living next to one another, he knew that Maggie seldom fell asleep earlier than two in the morning. If the moon was awake, she was too. Late into the night, he could usually hear her shuffling around like some nocturnal thing, from the other side of the wall that separated her bedroom from his.

Listening closely from the hall, the silence, aside from some faint music, behind her door gave him pause. Typically, she turned something on for Alpine when she was out, insisting that music or the Discovery Channel kept him in a ‘good mood’ and ‘stimulated his brain’ despite Bucky’s constant protests that the cat was probably, mostly deaf. In the back of his mind, the rogue thought that she could be out somewhere quietly arose.

In all the months that they’d known each other, she hadn’t even talked about anyone aside from her best friend or coworkers but for some inexplicable reason, the idea of her being out with someone else made him bristle. Then again, he knew he didn’t have a right to be upset. They hadn’t exactly left on the best of terms; the last time he’d seen her, she had kicked him out. In his defensiveness, like some cornered animal, he’d dealt her a low blow and had regretted it ever since.

After hours of ruminating and turning over every stone in his mind when he’d been in Louisiana with Sam, Bucky had finally come to a realization. He hadn’t wanted to go out with any of the women that Yori had tried to set him up with, because they weren’t her. They weren’t his pull-your-hair-out aggravating, exceedingly bossy, too smart, remarkably witty, incredibly beautiful neighbor, who he had no right having feelings for.

Those women weren’t Maggie and that had driven him nuts. As she’d asked him question after question and pushed every single button like numbers on a phone, he hadn’t meant to snap. How could he tell his best friend’s ex-girlfriend-almost-fiancé that he’d somehow developed feelings for her and that's why no one else caught his attention?

He’d seen how many pieces she’d shattered into and just how jagged every edge had been when she’d fallen apart in the wake of Steve’s departure. It was barely six months later and she was only just finding her footing. It wouldn’t have been fair to put any more weight on her, so he’d kept silent. Regardless of his intentions, or how he felt, Bucky knew that he owed her an apology.

Shooting up a quick prayer to whatever could hear him, he finally gave in and knocked on the neighboring door with the hope that Maggie was still there, still awake, and hopefully less angry with him than she’d been just a few weeks before. Aside from his need to apologize, she had the only spare key to his place, so she was his last hope.

Absence made the heart grow fonder, but he kind of hoped that there was some saying about it dimming the flames of fury too.

The rampant thoughts in Maggie’s mind were louder than the boots walking down the hallway, but not quite loud enough to drown out a firm knock on her door. She felt her heart skip a beat as she whipped her head towards the noise. Quickly picking a grumbling Alpine from her lap, Maggie sat him back on the couch and scrambled to the door, her socks sliding on the hardwood like she was in Risky Business as she eagerly looked through the peephole.

Icy blue eyes looked at the fisheye lens patiently, knowing that the ever-cautious woman never opened her door without checking first. Relief washed over Maggie and the grin on her face was almost painful as her shaking hands undid the deadbolt and turned the handle’s lock before swinging the door open where it gave a dull thud as it hit the stopper.

With his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jacket, Bucky gave her a sheepish smile, “Hey.”

Exhaling, Maggie let out a single word, “Bucky.”

In the time that he’d known her, Maggie hadn’t ever been very physically affectionate, so he was momentarily taken aback when the small woman threw her arms around his neck and pulled him in for an unexpectedly tight hug while standing on her toes. Automatically, he returned the gesture, wrapping his arms around her tightly, surprised with the amount of comfort that it immediately brought him.

Despite the night, it was like he’d finally found a moment of peace—Maggie was a sanctuary of calm in the middle of a thunderous storm. Pressing his face into her hair, he inhaled the sweet almond scent that he’d come to associate with her and the comfort of her warm apartment. Like she was a drug, he could feel the blood that thrummed through his veins beginning to slow, just from her touch.

Resting her chin on his shoulder, Maggie let out a breath that she’d been holding all week. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, irrationally worried that if she opened them, he’d slip through her fingers and be gone again.

Cautiously, Bucky broke the silence as he softly apologized, “I’m sorry, Mags.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard.” She swallowed the lump in her throat as she shook her head. There was no use in holding any grudges, not when he was one of the only people that she had left anymore. Though she’d tried fruitlessly to convince herself, it wasn’t easier to be alone and she couldn’t stand to lose him too, “I forgive you.”

“I…” Trailing off as his hand drifted up and down her back slowly, he was almost surprised at her willingness to let their argument go. He’d been prepared to beg for her forgiveness. “I was an ass.”

From the way he felt her body shake in his embrace, he could tell she’d let out a quiet laugh at his self-evaluation before she agreed, “You were. But I didn’t listen, and—” Shaking her head, she gave a shrug and moved on; none of it mattered anymore, “It doesn’t matter. But what does, is that you’re home.”

She could feel his body deflate with an unspoken relief as her words washed over him. Perhaps he hadn’t listened to her voicemails; if he had, certainly he would have known she wasn’t quite as upset anymore. They’d both gone too far and let their emotions get the best of them that morning, but time and distance had gradually repaired the damage that had been caused. Neither bothered to move from their embrace, the first one they’d ever shared, as they finally reconvened for the first time in three weeks.

“I looked for you there. I was worried you—”

“I was invited but I didn’t want to go.” His arms were so warm, comforting; she could fall asleep pressed against him if she let herself. Turning her face into his neck, her nose brushed just slightly against his warm skin; she felt the smallest shiver run through him. Lowering her voice, she cautiously inquired, “Are you okay? I…saw that video. The one from Madripoor.”

Sam had mentioned something about a video from that night, but he didn’t know that it had made its way across the world and straight to her. Resting his chin on top of her head, he mumbled, “I just had to…pretend.”

Bucky had barely even had time to think about everything that had taken place over the past two weeks, but he knew that, aside from Sam, Maggie was really the only person out there that he had anymore. It was possible that she was the only one who’d cared, and she had to have been terrified when she saw the news. His voice was quiet as he continued to rub her back comfortingly and he felt her melt into his chest as he affirmed, “I’m alright. I promise.”

After several more silent moments spent wrapped in his thick arms, she pulled back just enough to look at him, her brown eyes meeting the blue of his like the earth and sky. Cupping his face in her hands, like she needed to touch him to make sure that he was actually in front of her, she felt his cheeks shift.

As the corners of his lips tilted up, she was gifted with that lazy smile she’d grown to adore. It felt like the end of a summer’s day, hazy and warm and something she never wanted to see end. Her thumbs brushed across the prickly, days-old scruff as she looked at him for what felt like the first time; he really was kind of beautiful.

If anyone were to describe Marguerite Hall, ‘impulsive’ would probably be the last word they’d use; it was way down there with adjectives like ‘reckless’ or ‘inconsiderate’ or ‘irresponsible.’ She made too many lists and charts and thought through every single possible outcome that could ever occur for any event she’d ever experienced, but for the first time in her thirty-three years of life, she let herself be something that she wasn’t.

Without another thought about repercussions or consequences or anything else that would come tomorrow, Maggie couldn’t resist as she pulled Bucky down by the face to smash her lips into his. It was different than what she’d known before; his clothes smelled like gun smoke but tucked beneath it was something dark and spicy, like tobacco and sandalwood and it tickled her nose and only made her want him more. It was so warm and all-encompassing.

The way his lips moved was unfamiliar, like choreography to a dance neither had ever learned; each swipe of his tongue or change in pressure was so certain and confident. She wanted more.

Winding her arms around his neck, she felt his hands drop to her waist and his thumbs brushed against her ribs, spanning up her sides as he held her close. After a moment, she could feel him smile against her mouth before he murmured into their stolen kiss with a palpably victorious air, “I knew you didn’t hate me…”

His grip on Maggie tightened, in every sense of the phrase, and she couldn’t snuff out the grin that grew on her lips to match his. She refused to pull away, not yet, so she only mumbled against his mouth, “Shut up.”

Bucky’s splintered sentence came out between their kisses, and she could hear the cocky teasing note in his words, “I just needed…my spare key. I didn’t know…this came with it or…I’d definitely have…forgotten it a few weeks ago.”

Both entertained and exasperated, Maggie finally forced her mouth away from Bucky’s without leaving the warmth of his arms, staring at him incredulously. Almost panting as she tried to catch her breath, her tongue darted out to wet her rosy lips that had twisted into a teasing smile, “Do you ever shut up?”

With a chuckle from deep in his chest, Bucky shook his head, pulling her back in with his hand cupping her jaw. For some indeterminate length of time, they stood in her doorway, making out shamelessly like teenagers at a prom who couldn’t wait to be alone. By some miracle, none of their neighbors had caught them and, in the back of her mind, she was grateful. If anyone stumbled upon the pair, they’d be the only topic of hot gossip in the small building for weeks to come. Finally, Maggie made herself draw back, trying to breathe again, but he kept his forehead pressed to hers, one of his hands holding the back of her head like she was something precious.

Maggie’s trembling hands unwound from his neck, trailing slowly over his broad shoulders, and down to rest flat on his chest as if she had to put the slightest amount of distance between them before she did anything else that was foolish. With her eyes shut, she could feel him hesitate before capturing her lips in another softer, sweeter kiss that was something of a chaste peck, like he couldn’t stand to not have her lips pressed to his after experiencing it for the first time.

It took some time for both of the neighbors to finally steady themselves with several more kisses stolen in the comfortable silence that they’d been wrapped in. Eventually, she opened her eyes into his and felt him steal the air from her lungs. Biting her swollen bottom lip, she tried to gather her thoughts and figure out what exactly had just happened as his thumb continued rubbing distracting circles on her hip.

A shiver ran down her body from the tender action and he couldn’t quite hide the little, prideful smirk as he felt the jolt of electricity move through her. After a moment’s silence, just as he thought she was going to close the distance between them again, Maggie wound her arm back and slugged him as hard as she could muster with an accusatory glare and fire in her eyes.

Bucky’s jaw hung open as he feigned a look of hurt which she promptly ignored, content with the knowledge that she couldn’t inflict much damage on the enhanced man no matter how strong she was. Rubbing the vibranium hand over his arm where she’d landed the solid punch, he protested, slightly confused by the very mixed signals that he was receiving, “Hey!”

“I thought you fucking died!” Maggie huffed. With her hands back on his chest, she pushed him back and, predictably, his feet stayed firmly planted on the floor in front of her which was even more annoying.

“So, you missed me?” Amused, and still reeling from her lips that had just been glued to his, Bucky couldn’t help the way that his chest puffed out, pleased that she seemed as effected as he was. Reaching down, he picked up a purring Alpine who’d been circling their feet in figure-eights for the past several minutes, seeking any and all attention.

Closing the door behind Maggie as if nothing abnormal had happened, he strolled right past her and plopped the cat on to the perch of its tree. Shrugging off his jacket, he tossed it on to the back of her ugly green couch. Turning back to look at her, Bucky tried not to look too pleased as he watched her rest a cool hand on her flushed face, trying to slow her racing heart that he could almost hear as she watched him move through the room with an ease like he lived there.

‘God, he’s infuriating.’

Crossing her arms tightly over her chest, she schooled her expression into some ineffectual attempt at nonchalance because she was most definitely…chalant. But he didn’t have to know that. Irritated with his casual indifference, Maggie shrugged with a shake of her head, “Not at all.”

But, of course, she had. And she’d said as much in her voicemail which, she finally gathered, he definitely hadn’t listened to, and she was a little grateful.

Teasingly, Bucky leaned against her kitchen counter and crossed his arms, copying her posture, “So, you kiss all of your neighbors hello like that?”

The gesture stretched the fabric of his t-shirt across his arms and torso in a delicious way, showing each defined line that separated his biceps and pectorals. Her eyes darted from his that were still sparkling annoyingly, to his arms, and down to his chest before looking back at his face. What fucking business did he have wearing shirts that tight? Did he shrink them in the dryer or buy them too small? She knew that she’d been caught but he only acknowledged it with the little smirk growing wider on his face, second by second.

“Maybe.” Maggie swallowed, her throat suddenly dry and she searched whatever faculties remained in her brain to find lies to support her bluff. It was futile. Rolling her eyes, she shot back, “Meena from upstairs is very enthusiastic. A really great kisser.”

Bucky's eyebrows rose in a look of fake surprise, giving an interested nod before he slowly stalked back towards her. His tongue traced over his bottom lip thoughtfully and Maggie’s wide eyes followed its path unabashedly as he moved closer, step by step, “Is she?”

She didn’t notice that she’d moved backwards until she bumped into the solid slab of the wooden door; there was nowhere else to go as Bucky came to stand toe-to-toe with her. She stood as tall as she was able to, her eyes refusing to stray from his like a game of chicken; she wouldn’t lose. In the stillness, her chest moved with each deep inhale as Bucky looked down at her, his expression both maddening and unchanging.

“…Mhm,” Barely remembering what she was responding to, Maggie nodded. Her teeth sank into the plush skin of her lower lip; before it could slip away, he gently cupped her chin and brushed his thumb over the soft, cherry cushion to soothe it before dropping his hand. Her head was already spinning.

Feigning thoughtfulness, though his mind was only occupied by her, Bucky’s brows drew together in faux concern, “You don’t sound so sure, Maggie.” A low rumble of a laugh broke from deep in his chest; she could feel the hot brush of his breath on her ear, and she shivered as he hummed, “I don’t think she could give you what I can.”

She didn’t know if the hand she’d placed on his chest was to keep him at a distance or to grab his shirt and yank him in closer, but she could feel the thump of each beat from his heart that was going just as fast as hers. With one hand pressed against the door beside her head, Bucky’s other brushed past her waist as it turned the lock slowly, sealing them in her apartment together with a barely audible click. His eyes searched hers for any hesitation before carefully replacing it on her hip. As he towered over her, he watched the smooth skin of her throat move as she swallowed.

They both knew that this—whatever the fuck it was—had been brewing between them for quite some time.

"What you can?" Her words were surprisingly level despite every single alarm in her body ringing out like there was a raging fire somewhere inside. “That’s some big talk coming from you, Barnes.”

Like a mountain lion that had cornered its prey, Bucky’s lips curled into a grin, the dimples in his cheeks peeking out at her once again as he promised, “Guess I’ll just have to back it up then, won’t I?”

As Maggie opened her mouth to give another, undoubtedly, smart-ass response, the chance was taken from her in an instant when his lips once again descended upon hers. His warm hand threaded through her hair, tangling itself in the wavy locks and holding her head firmly as he ferociously kissed her like it was the last time he ever could.

If it was, he would make it count.

Suddenly, it was like she couldn’t be close enough to him, her body pressed into his as her hands scrambled to find purchase wherever they could, his shirt, his hair, a shoulder, his back. Like he could read her mind, he dropped his hands low on her waist and gave her a gentle squeeze, boosting her to jump up and allowing her to wrap her graceful legs around his hips.

Locking her ankles behind his back tightly, Maggie laced her arms around his neck to keep their bodies close. As he pressed her into the apartment door, she could feel every inch of him against her like a hot weight, the hard planes of his muscles contrasting with her softer curves.

Mind still racing as she squeezed her thighs tightly around him, feeling something hard pressing against her thigh, Maggie almost had to question if she’d fallen asleep. Maybe she’d bumped her head or had a fucking aneurysm because she was kissing Bucky. Her neighbor Bucky. Her friend Bucky. The-one-she-pretended-she-couldn’t-stand Bucky. And she was pretty certain that they were going to do much more. And she was pretty certain that she couldn’t wait any longer.

On some level of consciousness, she knew that she’d let out a soft whimper as his hips rocked against hers and his teeth accidentally grazed her bottom lip. The little sound definitely had not gone unnoticed by his enhanced hearing—especially if the gravely groan that he’d given her in response was any indication.

Taking a step back from the door, Bucky effortlessly wrapped the cool metal of his left arm around her back to keep her steady as his right drifted down from her hip so he could better hold her up.

Her entire body felt like it was vibrating with want or need or a combination of both as he held her close. She could feel the warmth of his fingers give a gentle squeeze to the pillow of her ass and she detached their lips with a breathy moan as she met his eyes. His pupils had been blown wide, the typically light blue now just a thin line surrounding blackness.

Almost certain that she looked like a bobble-head as she nodded, she couldn’t find it in herself to give a shit and demanded him to move with a single word, “bedroom,” before crashing her lips back into his.

There wasn’t a single, rational thought going through her mind aside from the feeling of his searing touch as she ran her fingers through his cropped hair. His tongue traced her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth, letting him in as he massaged her tongue with his. Their apartments had been laid out in an opposite floorplan, so he found her room with irritating ease. Careful not to bump the priceless item in his arms into the wall or door jamb, he carried her down the hall, still attached by the mouth.

A needy groan was pulled from deep in his throat as her fingers tightened in his hair at the nape of his neck and it was finally her turn to have the upper hand. The throaty noise shot straight to her core, and she was reminded of his rigid length that was still pressing against her clothed sex, pulling all of her attention between their legs; she could already feel herself growing wet. The way that her body intensely demanded to feel his upon it was distracting and she only wanted more.

Would it ever be enough?

Crossing the threshold of her bedroom, it was like suddenly every sensation and emotion was magnified. Were they really about to do this? She could feel each atom in her body shaking in a cocktail of excitement and anxiety.

Silently and suddenly self-conscious, Maggie noted the fact that her makeup from the day had long since been removed with some of the black mascara still smudged beneath her eyes. Her hair was undoubtedly in disarray from the way he’d run his fingers through it, and she was clad in her typical, comfy home wear: tight leggings with a rip down near the ankle, some thick socks, and a big shirt that swallowed her frame whole.

Shit, when was the last time she’d shaved her legs?

A seductress, she was not—but she didn’t want to stop. As she got lost in her mind for just a second, he somehow managed to pull her back down to earth with one last sweet kiss that lingered before pulling back. Somehow, when Bucky gently laid her on the unmade bed with her pillows smushed near the headboard and a blanket half on the ground, every insecurity that she’d had temporarily melted away.

He looked at her like she was Michelangelo’s Pieta, and he was going to worship at her alter.

Kneeling above Maggie with one of his legs resting between hers, he easily held himself up as his lips trailed down her neck before gently nipping at the sensitive spot beneath her ear, making her back arch. Her face burned red as the cotton that separated her soaked core from his leg grinded up against the hard muscle of his thigh needily and she let out an embarrassingly loud whine.

Grasping blindly at the back of his t-shirt with clumsy hands, Bucky understood her silent demands and chuckled as he leaned back to shed the layer. Hungrily, her eyes devoured the sight of the skin that she’d never seen before, and she sat up only to yank him back down on top her with a giggle.

Some of the tension left his body as she paid no attention to the scarring that covered his chest and shoulder, the pink, shiny skin so evident despite the low light. He felt the hand of hers that wasn’t woven into his hair, cautiously drift over the border from bare skin to the black and gold laced vibranium and he shivered. Maggie’s touch was soft, almost delicate as if she was scared that she’d hurt him, but the trail left in the wake of her touch was the most beautiful thing that he’d felt in years.

“Off,” Maggie whispered against his lips, as her head rested against a pillow.

At the single word, Bucky pulled back; his eyes worried as he hovered over her, “Do you—”

Shaking her head at the miscommunication, Maggie laughed softly as she removed her sweater herself and tossed it somewhere over the side of the bed. Bucky’s eyes were immediately drawn to the lace of her bralette that framed her pert breasts and ran down the sides of her ribs. The light, sage green shade of the crisscrossing fabric with mesh windows and little rosettes reminded him of spring, and she looked more beautiful in the color than the world outside the window.

“I meant my sweater, dummy.” She murmured, pressing her lips against his collarbone and up the side of his neck. With a roll of her eyes, Maggie slowly dragged his hand up to the center of her chest where a tiny bow obscured the clasp on the green lace, “And this. Not you.”

Letting out a soft chuckle, relieved and just as nervously excited as her, he murmured teasingly, “Need you to be more specific then, darling.”

As the black metal of his vibranium hand moved up to aid in undoing the tiny, gold clasp and brushed against her flushed skin, she shivered at the contrasting temperature between them. His eyes stayed on hers, and his brow furrowed but Maggie shook her head just slightly, all but reading his mind in the moment. He hadn’t been with anyone since he’d gotten the vibranium limb and there was a constant fear that played like static on a tv in the back of his mind, so worried that he’d hurt her.

As the scrap of lace fell limp and she slipped it off her arms, Bucky’s starved eyes fell to the two, perfect mounds on her chest, just slightly asymmetrical with sweet, pink peaks that pebbled as the air brushed across them and begged for his mouth.

Propping himself up with his left arm, he was surprised when she laced those fingers with her own. In a quiet moment of calm, she gave him a tender smile before recapturing his lips and dragging his other hand over her skin.

“Touch me.”

“Mm, here?” Lightly brushing a hand over her bare abdomen as he traced down her torso, Bucky kissed and bit and sucked a spot low on her neck; she was almost certain he was going to leave a mark, but she didn’t care. She wanted him, all of him.

Trailing down, he mouthed at the fair skin of her breast, his tongue laving slowly against the puckered little bud. Much to her chagrin, as she shook her head at his question, distracted by his mouth, she tried to grab his wrist and move it to where she wanted. He resisted and slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her leggings, feeling her warm skin with his palm pressed flat, low on her belly. The black, elastic fabric conformed to his hand as he trailed his touch further south, teasing curiously, “What about here?”

Finally finding her voice, just enough to brokenly instruct him, Maggie felt her nails dig into his back as she pleaded, “Lower…”

Bucky either didn’t notice or didn’t give a shit that her nails were leaving marks in his skin as he feigned realization and finally slipped his hand completely beneath the fabric and trailed his middle finger through the obscene wetness that had collected as a result of his teasing, “Oh, you meant here.”

“Yes, fuck,” She mewled as his warm digit easily swiped over her folds, catching just slightly on the swollen nub of her clit before slipping back between her lips. Blushing red, she could feel her walls clenching around nothing and whimpered; all of the muscles in her body contracted at the zap of pleasure that spread out from the epicenter as she begged, “More…”

Detaching his lips from her soft, sweet skin, he met her eyes as he gently tugged at the stretchy black fabric. Nodding, she lifted her hips, her teeth digging into her lip as he quickly removed them and tossed them over his shoulder. Blue eyes that were obscured by his black pupil drifted down over her and he exhaled, “So beautiful.”

Chuckling as her hands immediately went to work on his belt, Bucky sat up and her mouth watered at the sight of his obscured bulge that was straining eagerly against the dark denim. As he helped undo the buckle, he ‘tsked’ playfully, “Someone’s impatient,”

“Bucky…” Maggie pouted as she grasped at the soft denim and he quickly appeased her, finding, once again, that he was unable to deny her for too long. Shoving the jeans down, he kicked them on to the floor before hovering above her.

Could someone’s favorite past time be something that they’d only experienced for the first time, just moments ago? Because if so, his lips moving against hers had taken the title for him. Directing his fingers back to where they’d left just moments ago as she spread her legs for him, he let out a low groan as he felt her wetness all but dripping onto the wrinkled sheets beneath them.

“I’ve got you, doll.” Slipping a digit between her lower lips once again, he teased back and forth before cautiously slipping his thick finger inside. As she gasped softly into his mouth, he ensured, “This okay?”

“God, yes…” At her approval, Bucky began to fuck her with it, each slow drag in and out, again and again, driving her insane. Without needing to ask, another finger joined its ministrations and a low throaty moan slipped through her lips, spurring him on as his motions quickened. Rocking her hips up as his thumb drifted ever so lightly over her clit, Maggie let out a broken, “ah—” and she could feel her wetness covering his fingers as they slipped in and out easily.

Feeling herself grow close to the edge, she grabbed his wrist abruptly, her teeth digging into her lip, “Want you inside when I…”

Chuckling, Bucky didn’t stop moving his fingers that were inside of her, even if she had his wrist stilled. Spreading her legs further apart, a dumbstruck look of surprise gracing her features, her eyes followed his down to where he continued readying her, massaging her inner walls, and turning her body to jelly with every stroke. Whimpering as he circled her swollen bud again, Maggie felt herself shiver. He nudged, teasingly, “When you what, doll?” At the speechless, doe-eyed expression on her face, he grinned, “What? When you come? When you come for me?”

“Yes,” Breath catching in her throat, any indignance lost in her breathiness, Maggie felt the muscles in her stomach clench as she gripped the sheets.

Just as he felt her walls beginning to tighten around his fingers, he slipped them from her heat and sat up. Shooting her a wink as she whined at the sudden loss of her orgasm, he sucked her essence from his fingers and groaned at the sweet, heady taste. Sitting up, propping herself on her hands, her tongue wet her flushed lips as she watched him shed his boxers.

“Do you have a—”

“On the pill.” Shaking her head, she cut him off, staring unabashedly at the thick length, hanging heavily between his legs. It was long, girthier than she’d ever taken, and she chewed her lip, anticipation lighting up each nerve ending in her body as she imagined it pounding into her. Fuck.

“Clean?” Maggie asked, already certain of the answer.

“Yeah.” Spitting into his hand, Bucky gave a few short strokes up and down his shaft before her smaller hand wrapped around his base, jealous of him for touching it when she hadn’t yet had the chance. Tilting his head back, he let out a low groan as she pumped him slowly.

Laying back against the pillows, pulling him down with her, Maggie’s teeth nipped against his earlobe before murmuring quietly, “Then fuck me like you mean it, Barnes.”

Mouth dry at her order, he nodded dumbly, and she giggled as he agreed, “Whatever you want.” Feet planted on the mattress, she almost blushed at how wide open she was for him. Holding himself up with one arm, Bucky watched as he used his swollen head to spread the wetness around her messy little cunt and slowly sank inside her tight hole with one slow push, groaning, “Fuck…”

“Oh…” Moaning, tilting her hips and letting him fill her completely, Maggie let out a shuddering breath at the unfamiliar stretch as the trimmed hair at the base of his cock brushed against her clit. Cautiously, she rolled her hips up into his; as he let out a low groan, she pressed her face into his neck and hiked one of her legs up around his hips, letting him sink in deeper, and nodded, her words muffled against his skin as she begged breathily, “Move, please.”

“Mm, look at you, being so polite.” Carefully dragging out, Bucky choked on a chuckle as her walls squeezed around him, begging his cock to stay inside, before thrusting back into the tight warmth, burying himself inside her all over again. He set a slow, leisurely rhythm as he mouthed at the creamy skin of her neck.

Through her fragmented moans, Maggie bit back, “I’m—oh fuck, not gonna say thank you.”

“We’ll see about that.” Grinning, he picked up his pace and began to pound into her; the sound of their skin, smacking over and over and the obscene squelch from her wetness that coated his cock, made her blush. Rocking into her, he grunted lowly, “Jesus, baby, you’re so fuckin’ wet…”

Angling his hips just right, the thick head of his cock nudged the spongey spot deep inside of her and she keened, the muscles in her body clenching, “Right there—oh!” Feeling the wire inside of her stretching taut, she whimpered out, “Fuck, I’m…”

“You gonna come for me, darlin’?” Using a finger, he circled her clit slowly, the glacial motion juxtaposing the furious snap of his hips into hers. Through a hot, lazy kiss, he goaded, “Show me how good you can be when you listen.”

Panting, Maggie rolled her eyes though her words held no heat, “Fuck you,”

“I am.” Bucky’s thick words were just a low growl against her ear as he stopped moving deep inside of her and taunted despite her desperate, moaning whine, “Do you need me to fuck that sweet little pussy even harder so you can remember?”

As he grinded his hips against hers, the hand that kneaded her breast pinched its dusky peak punishingly and he grinned like the devil. Maggie clenched tightly around him at the change in action as she begged breathily, “Bucky—oh…”

“That’s it,” He praised her, watching every slight change in her blissful expression. As Maggie squirmed needily beneath him, Bucky resumed his brutal pace and rested his forehead against hers as he felt his balls begin to tighten. There was almost a tint of desperation coloring his words as he muttered, “Yeah, come on my cock and I’ll come with you, sweet girl, fuck—lemme feel you squeeze that tight little pussy ‘round me, mm, let me feel you, that’s it, honey…”

The tension inside of Maggie snapped, dragging him over the edge with her as her walls spasmed, contracting around him and sending a shockwave of white-hot pleasure through her veins as she cried out. Thrusts growing sloppy, his hips were flush against hers as he spilled into her, the tight, steady pulse of her cunt squeezing him and milking every last drop as he shuddered in completion.

His face was tucked into her neck, her mouth open as she tried to catch her breath, her body still electrified and twitching with the little aftershocks that ran through her. Slowly, she unwrapped her legs from where they’d been hitched up around his hips. Moving so his body wasn’t laying on top of her tiny frame, Bucky collapsed beside her before gathering her in his arms, pulling her back towards him.

She could feel his cum leaking down her thigh as he slipped out and she shivered. Still flooded with the endorphins that accompanied her orgasm, Maggie contentedly rested her head against the bare skin of his chest in a few moments of sated silence. Tracing her finger between his scars like an endless maze, she chanced a glance up at him. Spotting his furrowed brow as he watched her, she let out a soft giggle that sounded like music to his ears.

“Don’t think too hard, Barnes.” Whether she was saying that for him or herself, she was unsure. She didn’t want to think so hard; for the first time in a long time, she felt good but maybe that was the orgasmic glow talking. Reaching up, Maggie brushed her finger down the line that had formed between his eyebrows from years of intense thinking and down his nose’s bridge. The tip of her finger landed on that of his nose, and she teased, “You’re too old for that. You might hurt yourself.”

At her teasing words and impish, little grin, he let out a playful grumble as he rolled her onto her back beneath him, caging her in with both of his arms. With her kiss bitten lips and a blush that spread from her cheeks and down her bare chest, she looked like an angel or a siren from his dreams—something that had called for him and he’d had no choice but to answer.

Cockily, Maggie’s expression faded into something of an innocent, little smirk as she pushed playfully, “What? Are you gonna punish me?”

With a nip to her exposed neck, he whispered against her skin, “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

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bbygirldahyun · 2 years

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‼️slight dsmom spoilers‼️ i actually never watched loki (i never really cared for him as a character so i just couldn’t build up the motivation to watch his show i don’t hate him but to me he’s just kinda like…… there😭😭😭) so i think that made it easier for me to wrap my head around the whole multiverse and variant stuff. i mean, u would assume marvel would know how to keep a plot consistent after nearly 30 cinematic projects but apparently not😭😭😭 i honestly think bringing in a director who didn’t watch the main antagonist’s show and mixing that with a movie concept that is so infinite such as the multiverse was kinda a recipe for disaster😭 not to mention they’re bringing in larger than life characters in what’s supposedly a solo movie (honestly i think they should’ve just called it doctor strange and the scarlet witch like how they did with the falcon and the winter soldier cus this movie was wanda’s as much as it was strange’s). also!!!!! i personally love hearing u and other anons talk about marvel! so just know that even if other ppl r like blegh marvel just know there’s ppl that like to listen to it :D

i totally agree with you on loki as a character, i certainly don’t hate him but i’ve never had the affinity for him many other marvel viewers do. my sister really likes loki so that’s partially why i was so excited for the show, like on her behalf i guess. but it was just a dumpster fire.

i saw someone say this and it really stuck with me — phase 4 has no idea what it’s trying to achieve. phases 1-3 were mostly origin stories, world building, and leading up to the infinity saga with infinity war/endgame. phase 4 is just a random collection of shit that seem to have no bearing on one another. like, where does hawkeye and tfatws fit in with all this multiverse stuff? and they’re bringing in so so so many new characters too which is great but, what’s the end goal here? there’s no coherent theme or pattern except the multiverse i guess, but they can’t even decide how they want the multiverse to work! i think they’ve really limited themselves with the whole “no incursions can happen” thing. what’s the point of a fucking multiverse of people from different universes can never interact with one another?

completely agree as well with the whole it being a doctor strange solo movie was not the move. like let’s be real, wanda dominates just about every project she’s in. she’s a fan favorite and just an absolute powerhouse, it is so hard to not have her steal every scene she’s in. like she was in endgame for what, the last twenty minutes barely, and her scene fighting thanos was easily one of the most memorable of the whole thing. any project where wanda is in it especially as co-lead will never belong to someone else. i also thought even america and wong outshined strange. hell even christine was more enjoyable to watch than him!

i’m glad you enjoy it!! i love chatting with anons about stuff like this and other random stuff i’m interested in besides kpop and writing just because it feels more like a personal connection with friends when i do get around to writing and filling requests rather than a business deal or something.

#ask #anon #mom spoilers

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Text

That Black Tee

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, penetrative sex, fingers, slight metal arm kink, sex against a wall, semi-public sex, dirty talk - 18+, minors DNI. Summary: It was such a simple thing. Just a simple black tee-shirt. But the way Bucky wore it had you practically melting -- and he seemed to realize it, happily granting your needs A/N: idk guys there was just something about that black tee-shirt bucky wore in episode 4 of TFATWS. it got my mind wandering. and i love practicing writing smut i hope im getting better at it lmao

Masterlist

You knew you absolutely, utterly fucked the second Bucky took off his jacket, revealing that damn black tee.

So simple yet so fitting, so accentuating. He looked casual and cool yet incredibly powerful and dominant with that metal arm fully on display thanks to the short sleeves. Between that damn shirt and the hard expression he wore, you were pretty much done for. It took all you might to not march over to him right that second.

Bucky appeared to be aware of all this as he turned to you, feeling your eyes wandering shamelessly over him in that shirt. He just looked so… him. Not a soldier, not some asset, just him. And he was hot.

He shot you a little smirk, making your eyes widen, suddenly unreasonably worried your boyfriend could read your mind.

You two must’ve been too caught up in your silent communication because the next thing you heard was Sam asking if you were okay.

You jumped and forced yourself to look away from Bucky. "Yeah, Sam," you nodded, "I’m fine."

He hummed, suspicious. "Are you sure?"

But before you could answer, Bucky felt it was his time to chime in. "She’s a little distracted."

Your eyes widened again, this time sending a signal to your boyfriend to shut the hell up. He wouldn’t look at you and instead just laughed to himself.

"Distracted?" Sam questioned.

"I- I’m fine, really-,"

Bucky cut you off, "Actually, I need to talk with her about something."

Your jaw went slack as you tried finding some words of explanation, something to save yourself from this situation as you could see Sam’s concern growing. But nothing was able to come out before Bucky was grabbing your hand.

"You can’t talk to her out here?" Sam asked.

Bucky shook his head, profusely. "It’s a very private matter. Incredibly serious. Just between me and her."

"Bucky-," you just about yelped as he started walking to one of the off-shoot rooms from the living space. Sam tried asking more questions but Bucky promptly shut him down by slamming the door. Hard. It was a miracle the thing didn’t just fall right off its hinges. For whatever reason, that suddenly turned you on even more.

You stood there in the middle of the room watching as Bucky slowly turned to you. He had a playful glimmer in his eyes as he took in your nervous yet needy state. Your thighs were practically in pain from how hard you were trying to squeeze them together, wanting some relief to your core that was set ablaze by him. Him and that damn outfit. That damn hair. His damn face- God, you just needed your boyfriend right now.

Bucky walked towards you slowly, intensely. You tried averting your eyes to save yourself from crumbling but he stopped you. His fingers came to your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He appeared to be just as eager.

"What happened back there, doll?" He asked just barely above a whisper. He held your chin firmly.

"What- What do you-,"

He chuckled. The fucker chuckled at your flustered state. "What do I mean? I mean that look you were giving me. How those eyes were peeling off my clothing piece by piece. Made me want to take you right there."

Bucky’s words went straight to your core. The wetness was pooling profusely, practically soaking through your jeans. You let out a little whimper as his thumb brushed over your lip.

"It’s your tee-shirt," you whispered, surprised that you could even find any sort of words in your dazed brain. He was way too intoxicating.

Bucky’s face shifted in surprise. "My shirt?"

You nodded. "It just… looks good on you."

He couldn’t help but let out another chuckle. You pouted at his reaction which he took as the opportunity to quickly place a kiss on your lips. You tried moving into him, grinding your body with his to beg for more, but he stopped, forcing you two apart.

"Oh, doll," he mumbled as his hand left your chin and slowly made its way down your body. Over the curve of your clothed breast, down your stomach, to your hips… the hand finally dipped under the waistline of your jeans. Without much warning, two fingers traced your folds, dipping slightly in to collect the wetness. He gave a few thrust, teasingly. Bucky groaned. "You’re this wet just from how I look in my shirt?"

You gasped, nodding. Embarrassment wanted to coarse through you but the pleasure from Bucky tracing his fingers to your clit was too much. Slowly, he started with circular motions, making your body jolt. You squealed in surprise. Bucky smiled down at your reaction.

He kept it up, adding pressure every now and then as he continued. Your legs began to shake forcing you to grip his arms in support. Bucky noticed this and brought his metal hand to your hip, steadying you.

He picked up the pace, his eyes boring into yours intensely. You let out a breathy moan at the sight of him, looking at you so hungry and aroused.

"Come on, honey, cum for me," he mumbled, still working on your clit. Every now and then he’d stop to dip a finger in as if gaging your wetness. In those moments you’d groan, waiting for the contact to come back. He never let you suffer long, though, finding his way back to your clit quickly, keeping the pressured motions. "Be a good girl and cum for me, doll, and I’ll fuck you real nice against the wall just like you deserve."

That was the final straw. His words alone practically sent you over the edge. Your body shook as the first orgasm pulled through you, lighting fire throughout your body. Your hips bucked and twisted uncontrollably, almost trying to get away from the touch but Bucky didn’t lighten up. He worked you through it, whispering sweet praises in your ear, making you lose it even more.

Once you came down from the high, Bucky wasted absolutely no time gripping your hips and pushing your back to the nearest wall. You yelped in surprise before his lips attached to yours, rough and demanding.

He lifted you up and grabbed your legs, circling them around your waist. You took the opportunity to grind into him feeling his erection hit your covered core. It lit a new fire in you making you gasp at the feeling.

Bucky moved his lips down your face to your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin. You whined and grabbed onto that fucking tee shirt, still trying to push into him, wordlessly begging him to speed up.

"Eager, doll?" Bucky asked. You could practically hear the dumb smile on his face and it made you want to slap it off. But all you could do in response was nod.

He placed one more kiss on your lips before his hand made its way back down your body. This time he popped the buttons of your jeans open. Briefly, he placed you back down to pull your jeans to your ankles. When that task was done, you were back wrapped around his waist, now feeling the erection more prominently. You let out a deep, uncontrollable moan when it hit.

As if he understood your annoyance, Bucky quickly undid his own jeans. In your dazed state, you must’ve zoned out because the next thing you knew, your panties were just pushed to the side and his cock was breaching your walls. You two were in sync letting our moans and groans at the warmth, the wetness.

His arms held you tight as he began his thrusts, so precise and strong. You were backed into the wall forcefully, enjoying the pressure and pleasure combining into one. Your boyfriend groaned above you, sounds going right to your core which was made evident by the squelching sounding in the room.

Bucky kept his thrusts up as his metal hand left your hip and made its way to your clit. His body held you up with his other arm, giving you a second to marvel in his strength. It was always such a treat when it came out in the bedroom. How he could hold you down or hold you up had your mind spinning half the time.

As his thrusts began to pick up, his metal hand started with the circular motions again on your clit. The coldness meeting your warmth was enough to drive you crazy. Your hands fisted his shirt, trying to keep yourself grounded. You let out a surprised moan at the whole sensation which Bucky seemed to like as he gripped you harder. Your brain was going fuzzy, drunk even, as he pounded you into the wall flawlessly.

"Bucky… B-Bucky…" you choked out.

"Hmm?" You could tell he was staring at you despite your eyes being fluttered shut. He was taking in every inch of your face contorting in glorious pleasure. It seemed to drive his thrusts faster, the circular motions on your clit picking up as well.

"I- I’m gonna-,"

"You gonna cum again, doll?" He asked, a little mockingly. You would’ve bit back if you weren’t in this state but you couldn’t do anything, just take what he was giving. You nodded weakly. "Alright, honey, that’s it… Cum for me, come on. I got you."

It was like Bucky flipped that last switch as his strength and speed picked up. You yelped, clinging to his shirt even tighter.

One final push on your clit was all you needed before you were crumbling in his arms. Your body shook as your orgasm flooded you with ecstasy. Bucky didn’t want to let up with the trusts, though, chasing his own orgasm and thoroughly working you through your second. He kept pounding, his hand opting to leave your clit to grope at your breasts under your shirt. The metal hitting your skin in a new place made you squeal again.

The sounds and motions were it for Bucky as the next thing you knew, he released inside you, coating your walls and thrusting in and out, letting it leak onto your skin. You moaned at the sensation.

Bucky gave a couple more weak thrusts before he let out a final groan and stilled inside you. Both his arms now were around your waist, pulling you close as you two panted, coming down from the pleasure.

Bucky leaned forward, his head resting on your shoulder. Your hands left his shirt and came up to his hair, where you ran them through his short locks.

"Was that what you needed, doll?" He asked, voice breaking through the heaviness of the room.

You giggled, "Exactly what I needed."

"Hmm," he sighed and straightened back up. He pecked your lips. "Guess I gotta wear this shirt more often."

You gasped, slapping his chest lightly as he laughed. But you couldn’t totally disagree. "I wouldn’t complain if it made an appearance every now and then."

Bucky shook his head, "I don’t understand how a black tee shirt can get you going, doll."

After he spoke, he slowly removed himself from you, letting you down from the wall. Warm wetness began soaking your thighs feeling so intimate, so hot, it almost made you almost suggest round two right then and there but that didn’t seem on the table after Bucky handed you some tissues to clean up. Not to mention the fact there were people in the living area.

You shrugged, readjusting your shirt and pulling your jeans back on. You watched as Bucky also readjusted his appearance. "It’s because it’s on you," you insisted. "You could walk around in the most ridiculous outfits and I’d still beg you to jump my bones."

Bucky let out the most joyous laugh at that. He walked back towards you, securely wrapping his arms around your waist. You placed a kiss on his lips, which he hummed happily into.

"I’m flattered," he mumbled. The light blush across his cheeks confirmed his words.

You smiled, "What can I say? I got a hot boyfriend and he should know it."

Bucky placed another kiss on your lips. "Oh, trust me, I think he knows it now."

You let out a giggle and pulled away from his grip, despite a little protest. "Come on," you said and motioned towards the door, "we should probably leave this room before we get any shit from them."

"Oh, you’re getting a lot of shit once you come out of that room," Sam called from the other side of the door, making both you and Bucky jump. "Might as well stay in here."

You groaned at the words, your face and neck suddenly becoming hot in embarrassment. Bucky just chuckled, somehow finding everything amusing, and wrapped an arm around you.

"Worth it, though," he whispered before placing a kiss on your cheek. You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t at all argue. Just glancing between the wall and that black tee made you suddenly hot and bothered all over again.

Bucky picked up on your gaze, once again practically reading your mind. With a suggestive smirk, he asked, "Round two?"

You bit your lip as his hand began running over the curve of your ass.

"Fine."

Bucky didn’t waste a single second before whisking you off your feet

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #marvel #mcu #mcu fic #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #writing*#fluff #slight tfatws spoilers

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kimoralov3 · 3 years

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sambucky headcanons (slight tfatws spoilers)

Sam mentioned that one of the boys wanted to read the hobbit so he gave him his copy (because in my head bucky still has all his stuff from the 40s)

sam tries to teach bucky how to cook but bucky ends up burning everything

"how do you burn eggs" "they aren't burnt, they're just a little dark. this was a perfectly good meal back in my day"

bucky watching sam workout but playing it off as judging his form or something

"buck i can feel your eyes on me" "im just making sure you're doing it right"

bucky helping calm down sam when he has nightmares (usually about riley)

"hey hey talk to me, what happened" "I couldn't save him"

visiting steves grave together to tell him about all the crazy missions they've been on

"and then he pushed me out the plane" "I did not push him. I wrapped my arms around him and flew him down" "same thing"

sometimes Sarah finds the two cuddled up on the couch together with a movie playing in the background

after the whole "screw the government" speech sam gave, he went on lots of interviews

bucky was always on the side, and he had this total idiot in love look on his face

there were also times when they went on interviews together, and he'd have the same look on his face

people started to notice it too

when sam and bucky revealed their relationship everyone was happy (they got calls from peter and shuri later that day)

#sambucky #bucky barnes #sam wilson #marvel #james buchanan barnes #sambucky headcanons #sam wilson x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x sam wilson #the falcon and the winter solider #captain america and the winter soldier #slight tfatws spoilers

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marvelousescapism · 3 years

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#MARVEL YOU GAVE JOHN WALKER A (slight) REDEMPTION ARC AND NOT KARLI???#and before you say ''but she threatened sarah'' yeah i know that's just another example of how her character was wronged by the writers #she deserved better than to be turned into a leftist bogeyman and killed at the end without a redemption arc #someone tell the writers that the far left and the far right arent The Same bc i feel like that was the message they were trying to peddle #aND THEN THEY KILLED THE REST OF THE FLAG SMASHERS?????????#listen i loved every scene with sam in that whole episode and most scenes with bucky but what they did with the flag smasher arc was not fun #karli morgenthau #erin kellyman #tfatws #fatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier #fatws spoilers #flag smasher #flag smashers

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zazz10 · 3 years

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I’m sorry, but Bucky and Sam in therapy was one of the best things I have ever witnessed.

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poly-space-nerds · 3 years

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honestly Sharon’s entire story is complete bs. Steve had five years to help pardon her. the writers really think he wouldn’t have done that??? and it’s been months since everyone came back, and Sam just didn’t think about her?? The government pardoned a murderer but didn’t pardon her? what the fuck. how were they even forgiven in the first place? just because they defeated Thanos means the sokovia accords and that entire problem is just done with??

#i guess the gov is too busy??#i have so many questions #oh btw this isn’t a slight against any character #just the writers #sharon should’ve been pardoned #like long ago #and it’s complete bullshit that she wasn’t #who do the writers think steve is??#a selfish asshole??????#tfatws #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #spoilers #sharon carter #steve rogers #marvel

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phdna · 3 years

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The boys meeting Sharon in the teasers make it seem more like they've run into each other twice in the show than like they're meeting for the first time since their last movie together. I wonder if Sam's Redwing investigation leads them on the same trail of whatever it is that Sharon is trying to do. Or maybe that's wishful thinking because one of my favorite tropes is "Somehow Agent 13 is always slightly ahead on the mystery subplot"? Still, it'd be cool if they had two different sets of clues they're pursuing and have to link together, because I feel like this is a really good team to handle this kind of situation

#tfatws spoilers #i'm assuming there'll be a slight element of mystery #you don't get a spy an assassin and a guy with a drone sidekick and send them after zemo and not make it slightly mysterious!

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bucky-bucket-barnes · 2 years

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Hiya! I saw that your requests are open so I thought I'd send one over! Could you possibly write a Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader set during tfatws where the reader (who also an Avenger/SHEILD agent) is helping Bucky and Sam on the mission but gets attacked by John Walker [around when Episode 5 occurs,] and he seriously injures her [and then Bucky loses it on him]? Just like, A LOT OF ANGST PLEASE! Thanks so much for taking my request into consideration! Take care :)

Control

Summary: John Walker makes the dire mistake of messing with Bucky’s girl. This misstep causes a major fight to break out between the two, ending in nothing but blood and rage.

Pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader

Warnings: tfatws spoilers, brief mention of vomit in the beginning, depictions of violence, swearing, hurt!reader, hurt comfort, major angst

Word Count: 3.4k

masterlist | 2k writing challenge | library

It wasn’t often that you felt like the world was spiraling. The last time you could recall the world descending into such a sight was when you had had too much to drink at a friend’s birthday party, Bucky’s hands wrapped around your hair as you emptied the contents of your stomach over a toilet bowl the next day.

As clear as the day, you remembered looking over at him, head throbbing, seeing a slight grin cemented on his face. Fatigue still rimmed his eyes in faint shades of purple, having endured a late night and now an eventful morning.

“What the hell is so funny, Barnes?” you grumbled, half teasing, too hungover to bite your tongue.

“I just like your company, that’s all,” he answered quietly.

“Dork,” you snorted, a small laugh leaving your lips. You were curled over on the bathroom floor, mascara running, outfit messied from the night before and he was staring at you like you’d peppered the stars in the sky yourself. With his hands still affectionately holding your hair back, you felt safe upon the linoleum floors.

Another time the world spun this fast was when you ran a dangerously high fever, Bucky cradled up by your bedside waiting on your needs for the whole week. Not a complaint or huff escaped his lips as he slowly nursed your shivering body back to health. Under his tough exterior, he had an internal need to care for something, someone. It’s the kind of habit one earns from being the eldest child or perhaps one that was picked up from aiding his sickly friend back in Brooklyn to health during his younger years.

Even as you slept through the day, he remained as a quiet presence, staying in the room to read a book when you didn’t occupy his immediate attention. Although you weren’t much for conversation due to your condition, he enjoyed your company. He studied the tired yawn that’d escape your lips as you awoke with a grimace and the soft goodnight you’d mumble before drifting off. Although the early autumn sun beamed into the room, inviting him out for a lovely day, he knew next to you was where he wanted to be.

Each one of those times, Bucky was always there. One flesh, one bionic hand swooping you up into a comforting embrace. He was a man of few words, so instead his actions took their place. A light kiss on the forehead whispered a gentle I love you, a reassuring squeeze while your hands were intertwined assured I’m here to stay.

The world was spinning once again and, this time, Bucky wasn’t there.

The scene unfolded too rapidly. Your trio was too late to stop Walker in his pursuit, the edge of the iconic vibranium shield plummeting down into a man’s throat. The sight was awful, but the worst part were the sounds. The separation of flesh, the cracking of bone. If you even dared to strain your ears enough, you could make out the slap of blood against the asphalt road.

Walker was swift to leave the scene after that, everyone too busy marinating in their shock to respond in an instant. It was something out of a movie, a scene you’d never conjure in your most twisted dreams.

You shook yourself off, Sam, Bucky, and you splitting up in order to find Walker more efficiently.

“Call when you find him, okay?” Sam breathed out, talking at a fast pace to make up for time lost you spent standing in horror.

“You’re coming with me,” Bucky instructed, taking your hand in his.

“No, I’m not,” you responded, pulling your arm back, “We’ll cover more ground splitting up.”

“This isn’t up for debate,” he barked back, eyes wide with conviction.

Your head reeled back in surprise. He had never yelled at you before, barely raising his voice in the most heated arguments you two got into. His face, usually a chiseled statue of stoicism, couldn’t disguise the fear running through him in that moment.

“Please,” he beckoned, voice softening ever so slightly. Perhaps, if he said it with enough conviction, you’d stay with him.

His pupils were nervous, pleading. This wasn’t a familiar look Bucky wore, reserving most of his suffering for more private moments; late into the night, the steady sound of your breathing and the moonlight to keep him company.

“I’ll be alright,” you reassured, squeezing his hand, “but we have to go. Now.”

With that, your trio split up in search of Walker, pursuing all possible paths you could have taken.

The cold rain pattered down onto your face as you searched around the area. Upon following a trail of muddied footprints, you were led to what appeared to be a row of emptied warehouse buildings. Boots sinking into the mud, you took a careful step forward, half anticipating Walker to be just around any corner you turned.

Just as the world became quiet, a bellow of agony sounded to your right, your head immediately snapping in the direction of such a pained cry. You’d heard wails parallel to that one, a certain torment only emerging from an untimely death. Lemar.

You afforded John Walker the largest sum of patience and understanding you could, but try as you might, you could never bring yourself to enjoy his company all too much. Even still, your heart ached not for Walker, but for a man who had just lost his best friend.

Hand gently moving to your ear piece, you spoke quietly into the chip. “I found him, I’ll send you guys my location now.”

“Just stay low until we get there,” Bucky responded. The small sense of relief he felt hearing from you quickly was eclipsed by the fear he felt in that moment; you were alone with Walker.

“I’m just going to try to stall him. He’s stopped to catch his breath, I think, but he’ll move again. I’ll try to keep him here.”

“Be careful,” Sam warned, already knowing there was no talking you out of your plan.

Before Bucky could protest, you muted your ear piece and slowly went to approach the building, heart beat catching in your throat.

They’ll be here any moment, we didn’t separate that far. I just need to give them some time, that’s all.

As you crept further into the empty building, you spotted Walker, kneeling on the hard concrete. Sunlight streamed through the broken windows, the bright patches illuminating the metallic accents of his Captain America suit.

“He killed Lemar.” He didn’t stand up, he didn’t even turn his head towards your direction. He wasn’t offering an apology for his actions, he was only giving you what he found to be justification.

You halted, sure you had crept in quiet as a mouse. Stealth was out of the question now.

You took a slow step forward. “I’m sorry about-”

“No,” he groaned, voice in a low tone. “You don’t get to be sorry. You didn’t know him.”

“You’re hurting,” you whispered like a mother hoping to soothe her aching child with a few words.

Another step forward.

“You don’t know what I am!” He now shot up from his position close to the ground. Your attempt at comfort was met with a hostile reaction, a vexed pair of eyes shooting daggers where you stood. He stood a mere five feet in front of you.

You stopped, only slightly nodding. No matter what you said, he’d only grow more agitated with each advance towards him. All there was left to do was to stall. You nervously swallowed, waiting for his next movement in this odd sequence you two were entangled in.

He took slow steps towards you, like an animal stalking its prey. Each movement was sedated, deliberate with intentions of startling you. So, there you remained, feet nailed to the ground, not giving into his intimidation tactics. Despite your collected façade, you could feel your pulse pounding throughout your whole body.

They’ll be here any minute. He’ll be here any minute.

“You think you’re better than me? You think you’re so fucking tough, huh? Yet here you are, paralyzed without your little boyfriend and his babysitter.” He was becoming alarmingly close to your face. In spite of your better judgment, you momentarily feared if he bared his teeth enough, he might muster the gall to bite your head off.

Your eyes remained carefully trained on him. Words were pointless, they would only provoke him further, but the silence was so strange to simmer in.

“You’re not taking my shield from me.” He snarled one last remark before pouncing for your throat.

His movements were like clockwork as he reached for your neck in fit of rage. Thick fingers now closed around your airways, using his strength to lift your feet off the ground. Your nails went to claw at his hands, but he wasn’t budging, eyes glazed over with some nasty spell of grief.

In a last ditch effort to not get choked out by Walker, your dangling feet reeled back to kick him as hard as you could. Landing a swift kick on his groin, he dropped you abruptly with a groan. Reaching for your gun on instinct, you aimed it right at Walker’s stomach as he regained himself.

“Don’t think I won’t shoot.” Your breath was still ragged from your shortened air supply, eyes watery from the tears pooling in them. Your finger rested comfortably on the trigger, ready to fire in a moment's notice.

All he did was laugh. He cackled at your threat like you were a mere child he was dismissing for empty claims.

“Ooh, looks like princess does have a spine,” he teased, regaining his stance. Your aim never faltered, eyes narrowing in challenge.

Like a wild bull, he charged for you without another thought causing you to send bullets flying towards his direction. They ricocheted off his shield, each hit sending an eerie song throughout the empty warehouse.

As he made his approach, only a few inches away from you once again, you decided to aim for his foot, sending bullets down onto his shoes in hopes of slowly in pursuit. This did not only fail to stop him, but only seemed to fuel his irritation even more as he attacked.

The steady footing that was giving you some form of reassurance was lost as he jumped atop of you, forcing you down onto the ground. Before you could fire at his chest, he took your gun and sent it flying across the warehouse, your last defense now a distant echo lost among the old machinery.

Bloodied knuckles punches rained down like an angry thunderstorm upon your face, blurring your vision and disorienting your hearing. Realistically speaking, he wasn’t angry with you on a personal level, but you were the only avenue to take out his grief on. So, there you laid, hands flailing in a fruitless attempt to stop him.

Pools of warm metallic liquid formed in your mouth, clogging your throat and causing a nasty cough to emerge from your lungs. This seemed to satiate his lust for blood, but it only further fueled his need to cause more suffering.

From the corner of his eyes, his lazily discarded shield glinted with rain water and drying blood. You noticed his shift in eye contact. You couldn’t move. There was no use in screaming. You were left to the mercy of his better judgment at that moment.

He’ll be here.

Just a few more moments.

He’ll be here.

“Walker, whatever you’re thinking of,” you gargled, pressing your cheek to the concrete in an attempt to avoid choking on the blood in your mouth, “You can’t come back from that.”

He deliberated for a few seconds, maybe even a few hours. The ringing in your ears made it harder and harder to distinguish the time as it grew and grew with each new bruise. If your vision hadn’t become so clouded, you could have sworn a flash of guilt went over his face for a quick second.

He peered down at your bloodied face, the nasty cuts and bruises that were bound to leave an ugly mark for weeks to come. Wet, labored breaths left your mouth, lips coated in a bright red, the velvet hue dripping down the sides of your face.

Only for a second did he appear to be contemplating mercy. But you knew better. His hand groped for the shield, eyes dilated with adrenaline, but anger seeming to fade from his movements. All that was left to swim in his eyes was the sting of survivor’s guilt before he raised the shield above his head once more.

Bang.

Maybe it was an act of sympathy.

Bang.

Perhaps he was so far gone, he thought finishing the job would be easier.

Bang.

He’d be here soon.

Bang

He had to be here soon.

Bucky hadn’t prayed since before the war. You see enough things, you watch enough people suffer, and the existence of a God seems excessively cruel, unlikely.

Panic clouded his thoughts as he bolted towards your location. Along the whole trip, Sam assured him that you had a good head on your shoulders, that you'd be okay.

There he stood at the open entrance of the warehouse, one body sprawled on the ground, another huddled in the corner, rocking back and forth. Sam stood next to Bucky, glancing over at his friend as they approached closer and closer to the two bodies.

“John, what happened?” Sam decided to take the mantle of speaker up, this time.

The world froze for Bucky as he approached you, blistered feet carrying him swiftly towards your body. Blood leaked from the mouth he had just kissed this morning, it was spilling from the nose he just pecked last night, and it was oozing from the temples he just held this afternoon.

A gash. It left a dent in your forehead, never ceasing in its seemingly endless supply of blood. He knew Walker and Sam were talking, maybe even getting somewhere, but it didn’t matter. Their conversation was mere white noise in the background of his horror.

“Y/N?” His voice quivered as he spoke out.

You remained in silence, eyes still closed, one almost swollen shut from a nasty bruise gifted from Walker just minutes before.

Shaking, his flesh hand went to take one of yours, fingers lightly pressing to your pulse, praying the familiar beat of your heart would ring throughout his body once more.

A faint pulse tapped against his fingers, a wave of relief washing over him. He was scared to hold you, a porcelain figurine one more touch away from shattering into millions of pieces. His hand went to cup the side of your face free of any major injuries as he burned.

He needed to feel you, to make sure you wouldn’t fade into ash the moment he’d look away. Ripping off a piece of his sleeve, he placed a makeshift bandage around your forehead, hoping to slow down the bleeding.

“My sweet girl, what did he do to you?” he whispered through a pained expression, trying best as he could to wipe the blood rimming your mouth.

The world turned red. Help was on its way. Bucky did all he could for you in that moment, physically. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand before standing up, face a bloodcurdling level of calm in that moment.

“Did you do this?” His eyes were still trained on the girl in front of him, still registering what happened.

“She-”

“Answer the fucking question.” Bucky snapped his head in the direction of Walker. Even Sam took a step back from the sudden shift in his friend. He was upset as well to see you in pain, but he was trying his best to remain composed; he didn’t want to risk matters becoming worse.

“We don’t want a fight,” Sam interjected.

“I do,” Bucky snapped, walking up to Walker, challenging him to make the first move.

He stood there in silence for a moment. You didn’t intimidate him much, smaller in stature and presumably less experienced than him. Bucky, though? He’d never say it aloud, but he terrified him. His lack of speech, the way he knew how to stare in the soul of anyone he encountered, it was downright unsettling.

Part of Walker briefly regretted not killing you and taking off. It wouldn’t have mattered, anyways. Nothing felt like it mattered anymore. He’d be gone, and you wouldn’t be left to tell what happened.

Bucky swung for Walker’s jaw, the anger of a wild animal taking over his instincts. He didn’t think of the consequences to come for enacting such a fight, but he couldn’t care. The only thing that hung upon his already heavy shoulders was vengeance in its purest form.

The two sparred for only a few moments before Sam joined in, some anger sizzling within his chest cavity. They ganged up on the blonde, ripping the shield from him and slowly stripping him of his armor.

The tables had turned. Walker was now pinned on the ground, at the mercy of a very pissed Bucky, Sam watching in the background. He recognized Bucky needed to finish this alone for his own sake.

“She provoked me!” Walker rationed through gritted teeth, trying to conceal the pain he was in.

“Liar,” Bucky growled back.

With that, he let loose on the man beneath him. Walker put up a valiant fight, but he remained no match for Bucky’s vengeance. One moment he was throwing a punch, the next Bucky was catching it, twisting his arm until a rippling of cracking noises was hard.

Though his arm was now shattered and he yelped in pain, this did not quench the wrath pulsing through Bucky. One punch came down. Then another. Then a dozen more to follow, each hit marking his face with a new hue of blue and purple.

“Bucky, I think that’s enough,” Sam called out.

Bucky couldn’t tell what he was saying. Honestly, he could barely hear over his own thoughts.

I was supposed to be there.

Bam.

She needed me.

Bam.

She needed me, and I wasn’t there.

Bam.

This is my fault.

Bam.

But this is your price to pay.

A pair of arms wrapped around from behind the super soldier, pulling him off of Walker. He had been unconscious since the second hit, body going limp, broken arm laying mangled by his side.

Bucky's chest rose and fell with a sporadic rhythm, his anger boiling over into guilt. He looked up at Sam, shield by his side, covered in the blood of two different people now.

“I wasn’t done,” he breathed, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“I know. The medics will be here in a few seconds, though.”

As the sirens sounded in the distance, he inched towards your body, still unconscious. If he tried hard enough, he could imagine that you were just sleeping, that you’d wake up any moment and assure him he’s fussing over nothing.

Following you like a second shadow, he stayed by you in the ambulance. He waited like an abandoned dog in the waiting room, hoping for any update on your condition. Restless nights were spent in a nearby hotel.

Bucky yearned for your touch once more. His body never found comfort in the many pillows he hoarded, he never found true warmth despite the dozens of blankets he had piled on. It was like his other half was missing, leaving him to roam this world without ever really living in it.

When they allowed visitors, he remained perched by your bedside. Often he sat there, never letting you leave from his sight until his eyes succumbed to fatigue. Sometimes he just sat there silently, staring out the window and admiring the other couples that strolled by.

I’m sorry we can’t have that, he’d whispered, the only response he ever received being your heart monitor providing a steady beep.

When your eyes finally peeled open, it was at the crack of dawn about a week later. The new sunlight was bathing Bucky in a soft hue of rose and sherbet orange. He laid asleep, head resting at the edge of your bed, the rest of his body slumped forward in the uncomfy hospital chair he was provided.

Though in a deep slumber, his hands remained in a confident grip around your own, the rough curve of palms being the first thing you felt.

“Bucky?” you crooned softly, testing if he was awake.

Half asleep, his eyes peered open and a saddened smile formed on his face when he saw you grinning down at him.

“Hey, love. Good to see you awake.”

“I knew you’d find me.”

Guilt. It’s all he knew how to respond with. “I’m sorry. I should have-”

“Shh. You’re here now. That’s all I need.”

“And I’m always going to be here,” he promised, gently taking your hand to kiss it once more.

#bucky imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucket responds #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes x poc!reader #bucky barnes x hurt!reader #bucky barnes hurt comfort #bucky barnes x avenger!reader

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theyoutubedork · 3 years

Text

Dressing Room

Bucky x reader one shot

PART 2 IS NOW AVAILABLE!

Word Count: 2.9k+

MASTERLIST, REQUESTS ARE OPEN FOR BUSINESS

Summary: Y/N hates that she has to dress the way Zemo requires, but Bucky makes it all worth it. (Based off of tfatws episode 3: Spoilers ahead!)

Warning: Y/N gets very stupid with love. Swearing, mentions of violence. SMUT 18+

GIF isn’t mine.

A/ N: God writing while high is such a vibe. Especially calming for my ADHD. Also I’m glad y’all loved the sneak peak. I’m kinda proud of this one.

“How am I supposed to hide a gun when I’m wearing this?!” You yell at Zemo, already tired of his slimy nature. Zemo was trying to get you to change into one of the most skimpy pieces of clothing you had ever seen.

“Y/N, come on, it’s imperative we look exactly like the people we’re playing,” Zemo hushed you, but you bite back even louder. Your voice reverberates throughout the small cabin of the plane.

“Oh? Is it it imperative I look like a fucking prostitute?” You scowl at him. Zemo, stills before giving you what appears to be a yes with just a tilt of his head. You scoff, “REALLY?”

“Y/N-“ you hear Sam start, but you quickly interrupt him,

“Shut up Sam! At least your two “characters” have names!” You fight back, pointing at Sam and Bucky. “You might as well put a sticky note with the word ‘Whore’ on my fucking forehead!” You say, flailing your arms dramatically. You reluctantly snatch the duffel bag that Zemo miraculously has for you, and you stalk over to the bathroom.

“Now, if you boys need me, I’ll be in my dressing room,” you scoff, opening the small door and slamming it shut loudly. You look down at the dress you have draped over your arm. You raise it between your hands. It was a dress, no, a cloth, made entirely out out iridescent crystals, that you couldn’t help but gawk at. You will be wearing thousands of dollars on your body by the looks of it. Ok, maybe you’re an escort, not a prostitute. You find a small makeup bag inside the duffel, and find products you have actually used before. Zemo definitely did some research, probably having someone hack into your computer to see what products you use. He surprisingly got your foundation shade just right, and you scoff. You reluctantly look at your reflection in the dingy mirror. You sigh, ready to be extremely uncomfortable for the rest of the night.

You can practically feel the three men’s stare as you exited the bathroom. You were covered head to toe in crystals, from the stoned heels to the hairband that is loosely collecting your hair at the top of your head. You can especially feel Bucky’s gaze, his jaw incredibly tense when you lazily looked over at him. The intensity of his stare, made your anger only fizzle out for a moment to be replaced by embarrassment, but quickly returns when you see Zemo’s smug expression.

After a prolonged silence, you clear your throat, annoyed.

“Ok, maybe I should actually charge people, because this,” You gesture to all three men ogling you with a single pan of your finger, “is fucking ridiculous,” All three men break out of the trance quickly, Sam and Zemo muttering quick apologies while Bucky just shifts uncomfortably is his seat. You sit in the open seat across from Zemo, dropping the duffel bag at your feet. You quickly lean over to Bucky, trying to say your next sentence with as much seriousness you can muster without getting flustered.

“I need you to go watch my back, cause I can’t hide my guns for shit in this thing,” you say, and Bucky lets out a sharp exhale in amusement. He looks up at you, with his cerulean eyes, almost making your legs turn into jelly.

“Course doll, I always got your back,” He says with a small smile, trying to reassure you.

“Thanks Buck,” you say, giving him a slight squeeze on his shoulder before returning to your seat.

All sittting there in silence wasn’t out of the ordinary. However, you stealing multiple glances from Bucky, was definitely out of the ordinary. In the span of ten minutes, his lips were swollen pink, after biting his lip continuously from just looking at you. You didn’t know what to do with this information. You’ve spent the last three months, crushing on him so hard that anything he does makes you dizzy.

You never thought Bucky biting into a plum would have you clenching your thighs together, while sitting at the kitchen counter, but it did. You remember Sam giving you a very confused look. Staring at him usually led to inappropriate thoughts. You could stare at that man all good damn day. But here he was, staring at you.

You don’t have any idea why.

Now walking along an unnamed bridge over an unnamed river, your feet are already starting to feel sore. You were long past your days of kicking ass in heels. You do not know why you did that so often. As Zemo was giving Sam the information of his character, you almost fall right on your ass due to one of your heels falling into a small pothole. Thankfully Bucky catches you, with a quick wrap of his arm around yours. You feel your body tense when you realize how close Bucky pulled you towards him. You could almost feel his breath on your neck—oh wait he’s looking at you. Fuck he’s looking at you. He lets out a small huff of amusement. His breath fans your cheeks and you feel it sting like fire. In a good way.

“You alright there Doll?” He smirks at you. You roll your eyes at him.

“Yeah. You try walking in these shoes. You won’t be laughing then.” You retort, and he lets out a small chuckle. Oh man, you were being funny. Funny to Bucky. That was a rare sight.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were ok,” he says with a small grin on his face. You huff at him,

“Mhmm..sure...” you say with a returning smile. Bucky laughs, shaking his head before leading you to the car, that you assume is your ride.

You automatically make all the men fill the backseat while you sit in the passenger seat with the driver who was very kind to you, given what you were wearing. All three men tried to fight you on it, but when you reasoned, “I’m a woman wearing six inch things of death, and you’re not”, there wasn’t much argument after that.

You finally arrive at lowtown. You had refused to be Zemo’s plaything, so you gladly accepted Sam’s hand as you got out of the car. The streets of Low Town are covered in a slight purple fog. You all get onto the pedestrian ramp, that leads to the lower level, where the club that you’re infiltrating is. Sam rests a reassuring hand on the small of your back, keeping you steady as you walk down the rain covered steps. You see countless, thieves, dealers, any sort of criminal you could think of, was there. You look up to see the sign of the club you are approaching. The neon purple sign glows with the image of a growling gorilla.

As you enter the club, you immediately feel many pairs of eyes on you and the rest of your group. You hear Zemo address Bucky in Russian, and you look back to Bucky, who is wearing the signature scowl on his face. Your heart sinks at the sight of a man who has worked so hard to escape his past, having to pretend to be under Zemo’s control. Again. You even hear a man say, “Is that the winter soldier?”

The four of you approach the bar, Sam’s hand still resting on the small of your back. You see the burly bartender approach you.

“Hello, gentlemen, miss,” he grumbles, nodding in your direction. You give him a flirtatious smile, falling into your character. He looks at Sam suspiciously.

“Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger,” he says with a slightly threatening tone. Zemo gives a tight lipped smile.

“His plans have changed. We have business to do. With Selby.” He explains. The bartender shifts his gaze, scanning the four of you before looking at Sam.

“The usual?” He asks, and Sam gives him a curt nod. He turns his head away, but you keep your gaze locked on the bartender, curious. You see him reach into a jar and pull out a fucking dead snake, and you have to fight the slight gag that rises in your throat. Sam finally notices the snake with wide eyes. The bartender starts cutting the snake open, and Zemo lets out a small laugh.

“Ah...Smiling Tiger, your favorite.” He says, subtly telling Sam to man up. You let out a small laugh under your breath. Watching as Sam takes the shot from the bartender. He struggles to get it down. You look over at Bucky, who you can immediately tell is trying fight off a grin. You watch the bartender walk away as another man approaches from behind Zemo.

“I got word from on high, you ain’t welcome here.” He says, glaring at Zemo.

“I have no business with the Power Broker, But if he insists, he can either come and talk to me...” he gestures over to Bucky.

“New haircut?” The man teases.

“Or bring Selby for a chat.” Zemo finishes, staring down the man. The man walks away.

“A power broker? Really?” Bucky scoffs.

“Every kingdom needs its king. Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.”

“Oh that’s comforting,” You let out a small laugh, slightly uncomfortable.

“Do you know him?” Sam asks.

“Only by reputation. In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner.”

“Sounds like a nice guy,” you say, leaning your elbows on the bar to alleviate some of the pain rocketing through your ankles.

You hear Zemo call Bucky to action, and you see Bucky grab onto a random man, twisting his arm. You see Bucky immediately go into action, knocking down men left and right. You let a hand come up to your mouth, trying to hide the sad look on your face. It hurt to see Bucky fight with such malice.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” Zemo comments, and you give him a nasty look. When Bucky takes the man and throws him onto the bar, metal arm clutching his neck, You hear multiple guns cocking. You nervously glance at the three men.

Sam reaches an arm out to Bucky.

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.” Zemo warns, before telling Bucky to let go.

“Selby will see you now,” The bartender says.

Not even 10 minutes later you are running for your life. Selby is now dead, and you guys are now being shot at by everyone in Madripoor.

“I cant run in these heels!” Sam yells and you yell right back,

“Oh shut the fuck up Sam!” You yell and you feel your foot slip, your ankle slightly twisting, making you cry out in pain. Bucky quickly reacts, grabbing your hand to help guide you out of the crossfire. If you weren’t being shot at, you might’ve actually blushed.

You quickly round the corner, and you hear gunshots, thankfully not aimed at you. You look to see Zemo rounding the corner.

“Seems that you have a guardian angel.”

“Well this seems too perfect. Drop the weapon Zemo,” you hear a female voice say. You see Sharon Carter round the corner. Fuck.

“When Sharon said she had a place in High Town, I wasn’t really expecting this,” you mumble under your breath, which Bucky hums in agreement to. He was still holding onto you, just like before on the bridge. You could smell a hint of his cologne, you didn’t know fragrances for shit, but it flooded your senses and made your body electrify like a guarded fence.

You make your way into Sharon’s place, and Sam immediately starts chewing Sharon out. You look around at at the pieces of art she has on display.

“Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well.”

“I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler. You know how much I can get for a real Monet?”

“Easy, deactivate your hustle mode. You sell fake Monet’s.”

“Oh I don’t think she does Sam,” You say, pausing to look at one of the paintings.

“No. She means real. This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics.” Zemo corrects.

“It’s true. You know, half the artwork in museums like the Louvre is fake. Real stuff sits in places like this.” Bucky adds to the conversation.

“Okay, guys. I see what you’re doing. You’re more worldly that good old Sam.”

“Yeah. What’s Google say?” Bucky says, trailing past him, you still being held firm by his grip. You laugh at Bucky’s comeback, squeezing his forearm slightly.

“No shit,”

“Come on you guys need to change. I’m hosting clients in an hour.” Sharon calls out.

“Thank god! I am tired of wearing this stupid dress,” you grumble. Bucky lets out a small laugh,

“That’s what you think,” you hear him say under his breath, and you look up at him. He looks at you with a sly grin. You turn your head away, your face as hot as the sun.

As you were just starting to take off your heels, you hear a small knock on the door. Sharon had given you a private room to get ready in, so you weren’t expecting any visitors. You quickly kick off the heels, your bare feet padding across the wooden floor. You open the door to see Bucky, who is now changed into a fitting black suit. His eyes rake down your body. He seems to be happy that you’re still wearing the dress.

“Can I help you with something Buck?” You tease, making his eyes finally meet yours. He clears his throat before looking at you.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. I saw you hurt your ankle earlier.”

You heart flutters at his show of concern. You also remember the way his fleshed hand held yours.

“Oh its fine, just rolled it out of place a bit. Should be fine,” You say and Bucky nods his head along, and you can tell he’s holding something back. You finally start to piece together the glances Buck has been giving you all day.

“Was there something else you need?” You say with a small smirk, approaching Bucky, nearly chest to chest, his face inches from yours. You know what he wants, he just has to make the first move. You see his tongue dart out to wet his lips, scanning your face. His eyes finally look towards your lips.

“Uh yeah...” He mumbles, barely comprehending the world around him. He’s already so lost in you and he hasn’t even touched you.

“Jesus Christ, I know the way you’ve been looking at me all night. Just kiss me already Bucky,” You say and he immediately complies. He crashes his lips onto yours, pushing you out of the doorway so he could shut the door. You let out a small whine as he presses your body against the door, kissing you with such ferocity. You finally have Bucky all to yourself, so you don’t let him take control too quickly. Your hands rise to his shoulders, helping him ditch his jacket so you can dig your fingernails into his fleshed arm. He lets out a small groan, but when you motion to have him help take off your dress, he halts, taking his lips from where they now rested on your neck.

“No..you’re keeping this on,” he demands, sinking to his knees, his hands gliding underneath the dress. Not to take it off, but to feel your soft skin under his. He looks up at you. Your head is firmly pressed against the doorway, already blissed out from Bucky barely doing anything. Your body was shaking with anticipation.

“Bucky...please,” you whine, begging him to help you with the aching between your legs.

“Don’t worry doll, I’m gonna take care of you. You just need to be quiet for me.” He speaks lowly, waiting for the nod of your head before grabbing the thong you were wearing and pulling it down so it pools at your feet. You quickly step out and Bucky takes one of your legs and puts it on his left shoulder, the cool metal of his shoulder making shivers run up right to your core.

Bucky takes a moment to bask in your radiance. He has never seen someone so beautiful, so ready for him to do whatever he pleases. He feels his cock twitch in his jeans at the sight. He finally takes a small lick at your center, and you let out a shuddered breath. He scoots closer to you, burying his tongue in your entrance as he does, as you let out a low whine.

“Quiet princess, or I’ll stop,” he orders. Your heart races at his words. In all the nights you spent, imagining how Bucky would make love to you, you never expected him to be so vocal.

Without warning, he takes his free hand and pushes his index finger into you. You back arches as he brings his tongue to your clit, making slow circles around it. You grip at his hair, digging your nails into his scalp, making his let out a low groan, feeling it vibrate against your sex. It feel heavenly having Bucky make you fall apart, and he does it with incredible speed and ease. He pushes a second finger, and curls his fingers up, brushing against your most sensitive spot. You immediately shatter above him, letting out a silent scream as you cum. Bucky has to hold you up as you ride out your orgasm, giving you loving kisses on the inside of your thighs.

Once you came down, he rose again, capturing your lips with his. You taste your sweetness on his tongue and you let out another small whine. He pulls away reluctantly, before moving you so he can exit. You look at him with a pout on your face. He chuckles.

“Sorry Doll, can’t be late to the party. Get changed.” He says with a smirk.

“This isn’t over Bucky,”

“Promise doll, I said I’ll take care of you.” He reassures, giving you one last, chaste kiss before exiting the room. You sigh in both frustration and happiness.

Maybe those heels were worth it.

Part 2

#marvel #mcu #marvel x reader #mcu fanfiction #bucky #bucky Barnes #tfatws bucky #tfatws #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #tfatwas bucky x reader #tfatws!bucky

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januaryembrs · 3 years

Text

RIGHTFUL OWNER | TFATWS X Rogers!reader,

slight Bucky x Rogers!reader

Description: After hearing on the news there is a new Captain America, you decide to take back what’s rightfully yours.

Length: 2.2k

Trigger Warnings: endgame spoilers, tfatws spoilers, foul language, broken cup?, tension?

main masterlist

Note: I may do a part two to this if anyone’s interested 👀

You couldn’t believe your ears when they announced it on tv. Your cat had jumped five foot in the air as your mug smashed in your hand, the hot tea spraying all over your sofa and clothes, but you could worry about that later. Right now your focus was on that shit eating blonde on the screen, looking way too smug for the role he had been assigned, as he clutched the vibranium red, white and blue in his hand.

Your father’s shield.

Your blood boiled at the preppy looking soldier they’d named ‘The New Captain America’, or John Walker as the news anchor had read out. There would never be another Captain America, not really, and it would certainly not be that priggish bastard that strutted around in a knock off of your father’s suit and riled the crowd up like he was some famous popstar preparing for his final act.

Your father’s legacy was being paraded around as nothing more than a party trick and you saw red.

Cooing to your cat in an apology for your outburst, you began picking up the pieces of your mug indignantly. Everything your father gave his life to poured down the drain like sewer water, discarded for the sake of keeping up appearances to the rest of the world. What had this country come to?

Giving your cat a scratch on the head in a final gesture of comfort for your sudden behaviour, you stood to empty the remnants of your crockery into the bin, the snow white feline ducking in between your feet. You tutted, trying not to trip over the crazy tabby as he mewled up at you loudly.

“No treats right now, Alpine!” You scolded lightly, though he seemed to ignore you as he hopped up onto the kitchen counter and nudged the jar where you kept his goodies. You huffed, giving in way too quickly than you’d like to admit, scooped a handful of the fish bites out onto the surface and stood in silence as he chowed down on them happily.

What were you to do? The pain was palpable, the image of that pompous wannabe prancing around with your father’s mantle was deeply burned into your mind, and your body hummed with anger that the Department of Defense could just hand it over with little thought. The title of Captain America was more than just a pretty face to lead the people, it was more than a blonde haired, blue-eyed soldier that carried your country's colours.

Captain America was one of a kind, and the legacy your father left behind would in no way be matched by this John Walker guy.

Steve Rogers was rare, John Walker was just another soldier playing dress up.

Your father had told you all about how he had travelled back in time to have his dance with his first love, only to realise she had already started a family of her own - he had only had enough Pym Particles to make it back to 1985 where he met your mother. He had told you all about the glory days, how he and his howling commandos had taken on Hydra first hand, how he and the Avengers had only continued that fight and so much more - even taking on hoards of alien lifeforms in the name of saving the world. You grew up learning of the real Captain America and what he had given up to start his family; to have you. This was a smack in the face of the highest degree. They had taken your father’s life from him, 100 years worth of a duty tarnished by this pretty face with a shitty attitude.

You were a Rogers. Rogers’ always stood up for what was right, and this certainly wasn’t it. You swung open your laptop, your background photo of your father in his elderly age, sitting in his favourite chair with a book on World War Two laid open on his chest. As if to spur you on with the sight of your father, you opened a browser to start digging deeper onto whoever this ‘New Captain America’ was.

John Walker would not carry your father’s shield. Not if you had anything to say about it.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Bucky needed a break. Between fighting Karli and the Flag Smashers, dealing with Zemo’s infuriating head tilts and sly comments, John Walker and his self entitlement, the Dora Milaje and their pressing demands to hand Zemo over to them, the fact he still had to come clean to his dear friend Yori, the tiredness gnawing in the back of his head from the jetlag and just the general weight of the world on his shoulders since Steve passed, he was a tired man.

He longed for sleep, but even sleep was plagued with his past and his wrongs. He couldn’t catch a break. It was times like this he wished he had a pet, something low maintenance like a cat to keep him company with his many woes, to share the load with its sweet purrs.

Maybe when he was back in America he could pick one up from a shelter, but he was far from home. Latvia to be precise, in Zemo’s luxurious apartment they now frequented. He huffed, entering the spacious lounge area as he caught the tail end of Sam and Zemo’s conversation.

“Blood isn’t always the solution,” His partner told the freed prisoner, who sat up from his lying position on his sofa. He clutched a wet towel in his hands, no doubt to caress the injured temple he’d sustained after their run in with the Flag Smashers. His thick boots making contact with the tiles was the only sound for a moment as the two men in the room took note of his awful mood written on his face.

“Something’s not right about Walker,” Bucky said, slipping his jacket over his arms at the warmth of the room, walking over to the kitchenette to fix a well deserved drink.

Sam scoffed through his lips amusedly, “You don’t say,”

“Well I know a crazy one when I see one, because I am crazy,” The brunette man replied, reaching up to open the cupboard and help himself to an expensive looking rum. It wouldn’t get him drunk, not even if he was a normal man, and the serum only made him more certain he would remain sober, whether he wanted to or not was a different question.

“Can’t argue with that,” Sam replied as the man lifted the glass to his dry lips.

“Shouldn’t have given him the shield,” There it was. The pissed off tone Sam had been waiting for laced its way into the almost accusation as he took a sip of the strong drink to lubricate his argument.

“I didn’t give him the shield,” Sam bit back, standing up to confront the man that glared at him with a broken expression. Because, while that may have been true, Bucky couldn’t see past the fact Sam had just handed the mantle entrusted to him by his closest friend, his brother in arms, and that had wound them where they were now; stuck with an asshole like John as the newly claimed Captain America .

“Well Steve definitely didn’t,” He snipped, sipping his drink as the door to Zemo’s apartment was kicked in and the problem child, Walker himself, strolled into the room, Lamar only moments behind him.

“Alright. That’s it. Let’s go.” John ordered immediately, and the three men in the room bit back a tut at the clear attempt of power he exuded, though it didn’t well suit the dynamic he had created with the Falcon and the Winter Soldier. He had no power over them, not really. “I’m now ordering you to turn him over,” He said, gesturing to Helmut who stood from his place on the sofa to level with the faux Captain America.

“Hey, slow your roll, man.” Sam said calmly, sensing the erratic look in John’s eyes that he assumed to be the oddity that Bucky had been describing. What it was, he didn’t know, but he needed to put Walker back in his place and fast. “Shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth. Now, I had Karli and you overstepped.” Sam pointed over his shoulder at Zemo’s wandering figure, “He’s actually proven himself useful today, and we’re gonna need all hands on deck for whatever’s coming next-”

It was as though, with a trick of fate Bucky could have sworn was Steve laughing at the two of his best friends from beyond the grave, that Sam had conjured you up with his words alone.

You entered through the doors to the apartment, little more than a plain white top and blue jeans, a military jacket smothering your frame in a size clearly too big for you.

The men in the room stopped their conversation at the sight of you. Who you were exactly seemed to be a mystery at the fact none of them jumped to greet you. So, they simply waited for you to speak first, alert to the fact you very well may be a rogue Flag Smasher that didn’t get the message.

Your eyes scanned over the faces that met yours with rugged curiosity, until your gaze met the one you had envisioned since he had been plastered all over the morning news a few weeks ago, the one you had been tracking down since then. John Walker.

He was donned in a suit almost similar to your father’s, though the blue was off completely and he held the shield awkwardly, as though it hadn’t been made to fit into his palm like it had your father. The Shield.

Your eyes locked onto it for a moment, every single story your daddy ever told you running through your mind as the light beamed off the polished vibranium like a crystal. His life’s work, everything he had sacrificed to have you in his life was stood right there in front of you, and your eyes narrowed as they flicked back up to meet the soldier’s that frowned at you indignantly.

“Can we help you?” John’s crass voice filled the brief silence as you took a single step into the room. You nodded towards him, half gesturing with your hand in his direction.

“You John Walker?” You asked him, though you already knew the answer. You wanted to be sure the government hadn’t been handing out a replica of your father’s lifetime to just anyone.

“I am. Who’s asking?” He replied, turning to face you fully as did his second in command, that donned a matching outfit.

You shook your head slightly, “I believe you have something of mine,” You pointed to the shield, eyes furrowed into a determined scowl when you saw his hand clench just that bit tighter around the handle, “I’m going to be needing that back now.”

The men went silent for a moment, pure confusion running rampant in the air as to who this mystery woman was claiming that Captain America’s shield was hers. But Bucky was the first to fix it together.

Something about the moment he’d laid eyes on you had calmed him, a feeling that had knocked him sick with his own stupid behaviour. You were a stranger, he was sure of it, and yet something about you was so familiar, so viscerally like home to him that he found himself wanting to be closer to you the second he’d seen you. What it was, he couldn’t put his finger on, until he saw you frown and it just clicked in his head.

The purest of blue in your eyes, that exact colour he’d seen it so many times before. He would know it anywhere. He had joked it was the same colour as your country’s flag, so true to his friend’s name, about a million times. The way they narrowed at John, that was familiar too. It usually came around ten minutes before he himself would step in to defend his best friend in the entire world, when pre-serum Steve, as scraggly as he was, would square himself up to take on a bully three times his size. The determined look he knew like the back of his own hand. Then there was another piece of the puzzle in the way your mouth moved, the slope of your nose, and there! The way you square your shoulders back as you spoke to Walker with an order. He would know it anywhere.

That was when he saw the lapel of your jacket, the jacket he had been so blind to overlook the first time. The same one that he had long since lost of his own, that donned the name ‘BARNES'’ on the pocket in whitering black writing. The same one that he had helped stitch the name into.

‘ROGERS’ read as clear as day on the lapel, in the identically messy stitching he and Steve had sewed back in 1943.

“Oh my god,” Was all he had to say, as he took in the sight of Captain America’s daughter.

Tag lists:

Permenant taglist:

@pedrosgirlx @greeneyedblondie44 @liadamerondjarin @andy-rocks

A/N: OKAY THIS WAS JUST A MUSING THAT I DIDNT EVEN EDIT BUT PART TWO??

#captain America x reader #bucky Barnes x reader #tfatws x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x rogers!reader #sam wilson #sam Wilson x reader #sam Wilson x Rogers!reader #helmet Zemo x reader #John Walker x reader #tfatws #the Falcon and the winter soldier #the falcon fanfiction #the falcon x you #the winter soldier x you #Steve’s Rogers x daughter!reader

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tricksters-captain · 3 years

Text

Helmut Zemo (TFATWS) imagines - Craving

AN: Okay I’ve given in and become a Zemo simp but Bucky is still my number one don't worry.

Summary: After playing the part as Zemo's arm candy in Madripoor, Zemo tries to confront you on your unspoken connection, only to be rudely interrupted...

Pairing(s): Zemo x Fem!Reader, very slight Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,326

Warnings: Some small spoilers for Ep3, lots of sexual tension

“I still can’t believe I agreed to do this.” You grumbled as you climbed the stairs, falling behind at the fear the men could see straight up the skirt of the dress Zemo had chosen for you.

“I, for one, think you have the easiest job of us all. James must be someone he detests, Sam must be a notorious criminal he doesn’t know and you must sit and look pretty.” Zemo spoke under his breath as you came to the entrance of Selby’s HQ.

You glared at the man but he didn’t care. He was too busy worrying about Selby.

The door was opened for you by one of Selby’s men. Zemo nodded curtly at the guard before entering.

You went ahead of Bucky and Sam to stay close to Zemo, following your role as his current inamorata.

It was a short walk into Selby’s office but with every step you could feel the fear rising in your chest. You weren’t convinced that you’d get away with this; Sam wasn't exactly the most kosher criminal and Zemo’s story didn’t quite add up on just how he managed to have the Winter Soldier in his mitts again.

“You should know, Baron. People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” Selby spoke as she came into view. She was an expensively dressed woman with a short white pixie cut.

Zemo sat down opposite her but you remained next to Sam.

“Not a demand. An offer.” Zemo waved his finger as he spoke. It was a small yet dominant motion directed towards you. You tried not to clench your jaw as you walked towards him.

“A lot has changed since you were here last.” Selby’s eyes followed your every move as you made your way over to Zemo. “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo held out his hand to you, guiding you to stand behind him. “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.”

“You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger.” Selby cocked her head towards Sam.

Sam’s only response was a quick nod of his head. Selby purred at Sam, a wolfish smile on her face.

“What’s the offer?” Selby turned back to Zemo. Her eyes flickered up to you before landing back on Zemo’s face. You weren’t stupid you knew what her gaze meant.

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum.” Zemo pushed himself out of his chair. You watched him cross behind Bucky, placing his hands on Bucky's shoulders. “And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want.”

Selby grinned widely as Zemo wobbled Bucky’s chin with his forefinger and thumb, showing just how under control the ‘Winter Soldier’ was.

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately.” Selby seemed to be convinced. “Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right.”

Zemo returned to his seat before Selby continued.

“The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or... condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but... things didn’t go as planned.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” Zemo asked.

“Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.” Selby rose from her chair, finding a place beside Sam as she very openly let her eyes roll down your body now that you were in her full view.

“What else do you desire?” Zemo questioned. He had clocked onto Selby’s behaviour and didn’t really need to ask to know what the answer was going to be.

“Her.” Selby pointed you out. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek as she awaited Zemo’s response.

“No, no, no.” Zemo tutted, holding out his hand for you to take. “This little bird only sings for me.” Zemo guided you round the side of his chair and pulled you gently onto his lap. You crossed your legs as you tried not to seem uncomfortable. The scent of the Baron’s cologne, mixed with his strong grip on your waist was making your heart race. You had never been this close to Zemo before and now you were sat on his knee with his arm around you.

“Well, you’ll make her sing for me or you won’t be getting what you want now, Baron, will ya?” Selby wasn’t playing games. She folded her arms across her chest, cocking her eyebrows at Zemo.

Zemo titled his head as he thought.

You felt yourself tense up when he placed a cool leather clad hand on your thigh. His fingers started to draw circles on your skin, edging your skirt higher, drawing Selby’s eyes down to your legs.

“She is very dear to me.” Zemo stated. He retracted his hand from your thigh to brush your hair from your shoulder, his finger traced a line from your jaw down your neck to your collarbone. Zemo, being so close, could see the goosebumps that covered your skin at his touch.

“Unless you have something better to offer other than your two play things, Baron, I suggest you hand them over to me... unless you don’t want the whereabouts of Dr Nagel.” Selby let her smile drop.

“I will––” Zemo was cut short by Sam’s phone going off.

“Answer it.” Selby suddenly lost all interest in the deal and only desired to prove the authenticity of the Smiling Tiger. “On speaker.”

That’s where things went wrong.

For the rest of the trip in Madripoor, you didn’t get the time to confront yourself and Zemo on what happened back there.

You were so confused to why you reacted the way you did. You had never been attracted to Zemo before but you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he smelt, the way his breath tickled against your arm, the way the heat radiated out from under his thick coat.

You knew he was thinking about it too.

Every time you let yourself glance over at him, he was watching you and not in the same way as he usually would. You knew too well that Zemo often studied his surroundings like a hawk. He was silent and observant; he always knew where he would go next and he often watched you, Sam and Bucky as if he were calculating your next moves.

It wasn’t until you arrived in Latvia that you were confronted by your feelings again.

You were sat at the island in the kitchen as you ran your hands over your face and hair. You were tired.

“You should rest.” Zemo’s voice suddenly snuck up on you.

He had been so quiet walking into the kitchen that you hadn't even noticed he was there.

“I should but insomnia kinda comes with the job.” You sat up, trying not to act any different from how you usually would.

“Ah. My time in a cell has acquainted me with such the dilemma.” Zemo confessed as he moved towards the cupboards on the back wall.

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t help but watch his hands as they reached for the coffee pot, his fingers gripping it lightly. You could still recall the feeling of the cool leather on your thigh, his touch climbing higher as he pushed your skirt up...

“Coffee?” Zemo offered, interrupting your thoughts as he raised a mug and an eyebrow at you.

“Please.” You folded your hands together as you leant on the island.

There was a brief comfortable silence as Zemo fixed up some coffee for you both. He could feel your eyes on him but he didn’t say anything. He just let the corner of his lips tugged into a smirk as he poured you a cup. He let the smirk drop when he turned to face you.

He slid the cup along the countertop and you thanked him quietly. He pushed a thin smile onto his face for a second before returning to his usual stoic expression.

“There was something I wished to discuss with you actually.” Zemo announced as he picked up his own cup.

You almost choked on your drink at the words but you hid behind your mug, hoping he didn’t notice. He did.

“About what?” You asked.

“I wanted to apologise for Madripoor.” Zemo surprised you with that.

“Apologise?” You were confused to what he was talking about.

“I am aware that it was merely a role, that we were undercover, but I touched you without your consent. I wanted to apologise for when we were with Selby.”

You were completely shocked. You didn’t not expect this from Zemo at all.

“It’s okay. We all have to do stuff we don't want to do on missions like these.” You tried to brush it off. After all, Bucky had to become the Winter Soldier and Sam had to drink a cobra’s heart back in Madripoor. There was definitely worse things that could’ve happened.

“I never said I didn’t want to do it. I am simply apologising for not asking for permission first.” Zemo’s eyes were glued to your face as he sipped his coffee. He was watching for a reaction.

You felt your mouth go dry, you tried to swallow as you began to rise from your seat.

“Uh, t-thanks for the coffee, Zemo but...” You tried grabbing your mug but you only knocked it to the floor by accident.

“Shit!” You hissed as you bent down, picking up the broken bits. You felt your heart racing from the look Zemo had just given you.

Zemo rushed around the island with a rag, he placed it over the split coffee before taking hold of your wrist to stop you from picking up the pieces.

Electricity shot up your arm and your head snapped up to meet his eyes.

“No use crying over spilt coffee.” Zemo muttered, a smile tugging on one corner of his mouth.

“I-I wasn’t––”

“––Is there a particular reason you are so jumpy tonight?” Zemo inquired.

You rose back to standing; Zemo let your wrist go as you did but followed your action.

The air was thick between you as you withheld your answer.

There was no way you could admit you were worried of being close to him because of the undeniable pull he had on you since that night.

“I think...” Zemo stepped over the soaked rag which only made you take a step back. “...You enjoyed being touched and now you are confused to why.”

Your chest began to rise and fall heavily as Zemo continued to walk towards you until your back hit the wall behind you.

“But forgive me if I am wrong.” Zemo held his hands up with a smile, taking his final few steps until he was close enough for his cologne to engulf the air around you.

“You are.” You whispered but your voice had failed you in sounding convincing.

“Is that right, little bird?” Zemo used the pet name he had given you in Selby's office. He lifted his hand to brush your hair from your cheek behind your ear. “Because I believe you haven’t stop thinking about it. Just as I haven't.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You only just breathed out your words. If Zemo hadn’t been so close, he wouldn’t have heard them.

“Don’t you?” Zemo titled his head at you. “Because I am at liberty to remind you that I once worked for Sokivian intelligence. It was my job for a long time to study people, learn them, read them.” Zemo let his eyes drop down to your body before coming back to meet your eyes. “I can tell how a person is feeling just from observing their body. The way they move. The way they are breathing.” Zemo placed his hand in the centre of your chest where your silver necklace sat. The metal burned against your skin underneath Zemo’s warm flesh.

Your slow deep breaths lifted Zemo’s hand up and down as you stared back at him.

“I can feel your heart racing.” Zemo uttered. “Are you afraid?”

“No.” You shook your head as your eyes flickered to the man’s lip for just a second.

“Good.” Zemo smirked.

Suddenly Zemo was ripped away from you.

Bucky had teared Zemo back and pushed him across the room. Zemo staggered backwards before standing and adjusting his sweater from how Bucky had grabbed him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Bucky growled at Zemo with a look in his eye that could kill.

“I was merely having a conversation with (Y/n).” Zemo shrugged, acting as if everything was perfectly innocent.

“Oh yeah it looked like a real polite conversation with (Y/n) backed up in a corner and your hands on her!” Sam was stood behind Bucky. The both of them were squaring up in front of Zemo to protect you.

“I didn’t need your help.” You stepped forward, trying to intervene.

“You put your hands on her again; I won’t stop myself next time. I’ll turn you into a new coat.” Bucky warned Zemo as he ignored you.

“I apologise.” Zemo lifted his hands up in defence.

“No.” Sam pointed back to you. “Apologise to her.”

Zemo turned his head to you. When your eyes met, he smirked just ever so slightly, you knew the boys didn’t notice at least.

“I apologise, (Y/n).” The way your name sounded in Zemo’s mouth made your stomach flip.

“It’s fine.” You said before pushing past Bucky and Sam. You hated it when they played protective big brothers and you didn’t even need saving... You think...

(PART 2)

#baron zemo #Helmut Zemo #Zemo #Zemo x reader #zemo imagines #Helmut zemo x reader #Helmut Zemo imagines #the falcon and the winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier imagines #daniel brühl #Daniel bruhl imagines #Daniel bruhl x reader #Bucky barnes #Sam Wilson #imagines

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Text

Around Your Neck

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, penetrative sex, choking, metal arm kink, fingering, semi-public sex, slight hand and finger kink - 18+, minors DNI. Summary: Something sparks in you when you watch Bucky wrap his hand -- the metal hand -- around Zemo’s throat. A/N: I was gonna wait to publish this tomorrow but ya know what?? im too excited about it. it’s pretty well received on ao3 so i hope y’all enjoy! probably not the best smut ever written but i had fun writing it. this is a result of some late night imagination.

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3

It happened fast. You were sitting on the plane, watching the trio bicker, when the next thing you knew, Bucky’s hand was around Zemo’s throat. To make matters more intense, it was the metal one. While hidden under that glove and coat, just the thought of it, the realization hit…

While fully aware of the intensity and seriousness of the situation, you practically groaned at the action. You didn’t know what it was, but seeing that contrast of metal and skin, and the flex of his arm... You couldn’t help it as you let out a breathy gasp.

Bucky backed away then but not before giving you a side glance. You could tell he was fighting back a teasing smirk as he eyed you and your sudden tense state. To outsiders it may have seemed like you were scared by your boyfriend’s reaction, even Zemo looked a bit concerned, but you and Bucky knew. Knew the pillow talk and drunk confessions you’d made about the arm.

Your thighs clenched as you watched Bucky return to his seat. He still wore that hard expression, somehow turning you on even more. It was suddenly getting hot, you felt, squirming a bit in your sweater.

 Why did you allow yourself in this position? When Bucky enlisted your help, citing your past as an agent, you had originally dismissed it. You’d never really worked with your boyfriend, having already been out of the scene before he came into your life. But those pleading eyes and soft touches won you over no matter what.

Little did you know, though, it’d lead to you being on the private jet of a terrorist, ridiculously turned on by your boyfriend’s metal arm.

You fumbled for your bottle of water, taking a big gulp.

“Everything okay, doll?” Bucky asked as he broke off the conversation with the other two men. All of them faced you, waiting for a reply.

You nodded, placing your water bottle down. You turned directly to Bucky and met his furious eyes. “Just feeling a bit hot.”

He raised his brows as you felt the other men stare with confusion. The relationship wasn’t a secret by any means but the tone you two spoke with was certainly one reserved for other times.

"I think there’s a bathroom towards the back," Bucky nodded, motioning towards the end of the plane with his metal arm. From the corner of your eyes, you saw Zemo odd in confirmation. "If you need to cool down."

His simple movements sent a million little fires within you. The wetness between your thighs was getting harder to ignore, harder to play cool in front of the other men.

Biting your lip, you nodded. "Thank you, Bucky." You said his name with such slow ease, it was lighting something more in him, too. That’s when it really clicked.

You watched him as you rose from your seat. He glanced down, pretending to check something, trying to act as cool and collected as possible. For a former assassin, you thought, he wasn’t doing very well. He definitely knew. He got the little hint in your nod, in your tone. You figured he’d give it at most five minutes.

You made it to the airplane bathroom and squeezed your way in. Way smaller than you anticipated and you tried to figure how your super-soldier boyfriend was going to fit in here but he’d make it in. His arousal wouldn’t let him out of this.

You stood in front of the mirror, faux fixing your make-up and splashing water to kill time when the knock on the door came. Bucky hadn’t even given it a full minute before he was hot on your heels.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his urgency as you unlocked the door.

"You know they totally know what’s going on in here," you whispered as Bucky just barely fit himself inside the tiny bathroom. In one full motion, he locked the door then picked you up by the waist, setting you on the makeshift bathroom counter. You let out another giggle of surprise by his smoothness.

His arms were around your waist, pulling himself into your body, so eager and urgent. The gloves were long gone you realizes as you gasped at the feeling of the metal arm teasingly making its way under your sweater. His grip on you were tight.

"Do you think I care if they know?" Bucky mumbled as he began attacking your neck with kisses. He nipped and licked at your skin making you let out little squeals. Oh yeah, there was no way no one knew what was happening here but you didn’t have it in your heart to care anymore. You were practically dripping in your jeans and it was like Bucky could tell.

In an attempt to move closer, his thigh came up to your core, pressing, rubbing. You moved with it, letting the motions ease some of the burning in you.

Bucky continued the assault on your neck as you let out a desperate moan. "Could we please at least hurry so it’s not as weird when we go back out there?"

Your boyfriend chuckled, almost darkly, as he removed his lips from your neck. He began working up until his lips were finally on yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck, now taking your chance to pull him in. Bucky didn’t seem to mind your eagerness as he once again nudged your core with his thigh. The moans you gave out at that… Bucky felt captivated and you could feel it in his kiss.

Reluctantly disconnecting, he mumbled, "I don’t think I want to hurry anything, doll." He gave another peck. "Might want to stay here and spend hours between those thighs."

"Bucky-," you gasped.

"But that’s not what you’re here for, right?" He chuckled, his metal arm on your bare back. It came around to your side slowly, inching upward to your lace-covered breasts. "It’s the arm that got you all bothered."

You groaned as he then began to drag the hand back down your side, dipping just a finger below the waist of your jeans. The coolness barely skimmed over your hip but you were thrilled. It was a riveting contrast to the warmth that had been building over you since Bucky decided to choke someone right in front of you.

"It just looked g-good," you were getting breathy trying to formulate words. But everything was escaping you. As you tried formulating coherent sentences, Bucky began popping the buttons of your jeans then slowly tugging down the zipper. You gulped at the actions.

"Yeah?" Bucky chuckled, halting his actions. "How do you think my hand would look wrapped around your neck?"

Your brain starting spinning. You hated and loved when you got in this drunk state for him and he apparently was amused too as he gave you no time to answer. Bucky backed off a bit, as far as he really could, removing his touch entirely. You leaned back on the counter, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Turn around," he demanded.

The lightbulb went off in your head at his words. With a coy smirk, you hopped down from the counter and turned, your ass just brushing over his front. He was already ridiculously hard and apparently not amused with your sudden teasing. Without warning, Bucky grabbed your hips and forced you around completely. He made you plant your hands on the counter, giving you a clear view of yourself in the small airplane bathroom mirror. It surely wasn’t a full-fledge mirror but gave you just enough to see your neck, which you could already imagine how it was going to look with Bucky’s metal hand wrapped around it.

Apparently abandoning his threat of taking his time, Bucky pulled down your jeans and panties in one swift, sudden motion. You gasped at the action, feeling the material practically burn your thighs as it went.

Bucky was over any more teasing and talk as his metal hand promptly came up to your neck. It wrapped around, just tight enough to make you groan at the pressure. It felt so heavy and secure. Like it belonged there. You swore you got wetter at the sight.

Your eyes caught Bucky’s in the mirror. His didn’t hid how aroused, intrigued, he was at the sight before him. His eyes never left yours as his other hand made its way down your body, slipping right to your core where it found the bundle of nerves begging for attention. He gave it some attention before moving to dip a finger in you. Bucky groaned in your ear at the wetness that met his skin.

He pumped the one finger in and out slowly but surely as he whispered in your ear, "So wet." Another pump. "Looking so pretty, doll."

Your eyes started drifting close at the sensations Bucky was working over your body. Between the tightness on your neck to the pumping finger to your clit that brushed a bit over the counter, you were losing it.

Bucky, apparently, didn’t like you getting too comfortable. Without any warning, he pulled his finger out and undid his pants. Before you could register anything happening around you, he plunged his cock into you, lunging you forward on the counter. Your eyes snapped open. You were greeted by your boyfriend’s intense expression once again.

You barely registered the sight of yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were wide and that metal hand was not letting up on your neck. You could barely choke out any moans but it all felt so good, so right.

Satisfied that he had your attention, Bucky began thrusting in and out of you, pushing you more into the counter now, your arms barely holding up. He slipped in and out of you with such ease it was almost embarrassing. The only sounds prevalent for a bit in the room were the squelching between your thighs and the light grunts Bucky let out.

"How’s that?" Bucky asked between thrusts. Your legs were going to give out if he even began to talk. And as if he knew that fact, he continued. "Is this what you wanted, doll? My hand wrapped around your neck while I pounded into this sweet, tight pussy?"

You could only let out a weak moan in response which pleased him greatly. So much so, the thrusting picked up and the hand got tighter. Shocking you, your legs began to tremble. Bucky must’ve sensed it as his other hand came to grasp your waist tightly.

"I got you, doll," he whispered in your ear, placing a sweet kiss on your cheek. The contrast between that and his not-so-sweet motions nearly had you climaxing right then and there. "Got you so drunk on this cock you can barely stand, huh?"

You gave a breath moan, "B-Bucky-,"

He continued pounding as he spoke, seeming like the world’s greatest multitasker. Well, you figured, those assassins gotta be fast on their feet.

"What’s wrong?" Bucky mocked. "You close?"

You nodded profusely, watching your boyfriend in the mirror as he turned back towards it, your eyes meeting. He looked so blown out, in a primal state, as he kept working in and out of you.

Slowly, Bucky’s hand left your waist and sneaked down to your clit. He gave it a quick press that made you yelp. Bucky chuckled, amused by your responsiveness. It didn’t make him falter as he pressed again, this time running tight circles on your clit. The pressure and motion were making you lose your mind.

Bucky must’ve greatly enjoyed the sight as his metal hand got slightly tighter. You couldn’t do it — didn’t know how you managed it until now — but your eyes fluttered shut as your orgasm built and built and built—

He sped up the motions on your clit, accompanied by even more powerful thrusts. Your arms gave out, overwhelmed, sending you forward on the counter. Bucky went with, pressing his body fully into yours. His hand never left your throat. His thrusts never hesitating.

"That’s it, doll," he whispered and you could practically hear the cocky smile on his lips. "Cum for me."

And you did. It took nothing else. Your orgasm rushed through you, sending sparks and waves across your body. Bucky never once let up as he simultaneously chased his own while working you through yours.

"Bucky…" you mumbled as your legs shook, your orgasm rushing warmth throughout your body.

His motions and thrusting weren’t letting up, sending you into an overstimulated state. You clenched on his cock at the sensation. Bucky couldn’t hold back anymore. With a tight grip still on you and a desperate moan on his lips, he came inside, soaking your walls, letting it drip to your thighs.

His movements got weak and sloppy as he worked through his orgasm. You couldn’t even handle it anymore and pushed his hand from your clit, earning an amused chuckle from your boyfriend.

He gave one more quick thrust before pulling out of you, watching as his seed slowly leaked out of your swollen hole. He had half the nerve to get on his knees to clean you up but figured that was the last thing you wanted in your overwhelmed, dazed state.

Instead, he was a good boyfriend and began cleaning you up with some hand towels from a rack. You shivered as the fabric came into contact with your thighs. The reaction didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky who pressed a soft kiss to your skin.

Once cleaned, you finally found your balance again. You pulled up your panties and jeans then looked back into the mirror. You saw Bucky working to readjust himself in his jeans but what really caught your attention was the redness. Your neck had the faintest yet noticeable glow of red from his hand. You gasped, lightly running your hands over it.

Bucky whipped his head towards you, suddenly noticing the redness left on your skin from his grip. His heart nearly stopped until he saw the pure delight, satisfaction, in your eyes.

"Was that okay?" Bucky asked, wrapping his arms around your waist. You two watched each other in the mirror, this time in a much softer, sweeter position than before.

You nodded, "It was wonderful."

Bucky grinned and placed a kiss upon your lips. You melted into it, half wanting to go another round. But Bucky forced you two to disconnect.

"We should get back out there," he said.

You frowned. "What happened to spending hours between my thighs?"

"You little minx," Bucky groaned, his hands coming up to tickle your sides. You let out a squeal.

"We really have to face them, huh?"

Bucky went to answer but was cut off by Sam suddenly yelling from the other side of the bathroom door.

"Yes, you do!" He called out, anger and annoyance dripping from his words.

You two met each other’s stare as if hoping for one to suggest a way out of this mess but coming up empty, you just gave a sigh and pushed out of Bucky’s arms. Shamefully, you unlocked the door and opened it, trying to prepare mentally for how you were ever going to face Sam again.

"Sorry, Sam," you mumbled, slipping your way around him back to your seat, avoiding his gaze all cost. Bucky followed behind, seemingly unfazed by the situation.

"On a plane? Really?" Sam asked in disbelief. "While people are sitting right here?" You gave a quick glance to Zemo who truthfully didn’t look bothered by the situation. Your stomach turned at the idea of what else was taking place on this plane.

"Maybe you’re just jealous," Bucky finally spoke as he got comfortable again in his seat. Sam still stood in the aisle, hands on his hips, shocked by Bucky’s suggestion.

"Jealous?"

Bucky shrugged. "I got to bang my very hot girlfriend on a plane. I think you’re jealous."

You groaned at his words, trying to hide your face in your hands. You could hear Bucky’s light chuckles, practically dismissing the situation, which did not please Sam.

"Who thinks it’s okay to bang their girlfriend when other people are right on the other side of the door?" Sam asked.

"Look, Sam," Bucky turned his head towards him, that teasing grin playing at his lips. "When it’s game time, it’s game time."

His words earned a chorus of disgusted groans and protest from the entire group. Your face was hot, probably entirely flushed, as red as your neck if you had to guess. You tried reprimanding Bucky for his ridiculous innuendos — something he didn’t quite understand as he tried defending his statement to the group. No one was buying it.

"Alright," you finally said, halting the conversation. "That’s enough. Can we please no longer talk about this? I think we get it, we got a bit carried away."

Zemo, however, didn’t think it was enough. He decided to add his two cents to the conversation by asking, "And what exactly inspired you to get carried away?"

Zemo didn’t even try to hide it as his eyes glanced down to Bucky’s metal arm. Sam observed, his eyes suddenly getting wide as he put two and two together, causing him to share even more disgust towards you two. Bucky took it all, laughing like it was the greatest joke of all time. You, on the other hand, hid your face once more, praying your seat would just swallow you whole. It sent them into another bicker of conversation.

No one was ever going to let you live it down.

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