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I love that Bee is the most well behaved of all three 😂😂❤️

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTYV6XKfu/

Star imagine Steve or Sam do this to bee

Mafia!Bucky doesn't like anyone teasing his baby😂

The prank starts when Steve snatches the bag from Bee, her hand frozen in its path, the chip almost at her mouth.

It ends with Bucky blocking the doorway. "You have two seconds to give that back to my baby." There's a casual threat laced in his tone, and it's as real as the knives hidden in his suit.

Steve grins, looking over his shoulder to wink at a befuddled Bee who's still trying to process what just happened. "Aren't you supposed to start with three seconds?"

"One."

Steve's gaze flicks over to his best friend. Oh, he's not joking.

"Two." He takes a step towards Steve, his hand slipping in his pocket. The silence is broken by the soft crunch of a chip.

Steve always has an exit strategy or two planned no matter which room he's in. It's an ingrained habit that's gotten him out of some sticky situations. As Bucky advances, he turns and picks up Bee, shamelessly holding her in front of him.

"Say hi to Bucky, Bumblebee." Steve waves her hand at the glowering mobster.

Bucky blinks, his eyes softening as he glances at her. "Bună ziua Bumblebee."

"Hi Papa," she sings out with a chubby cheeked grin.

Bucky's gazes shifts back to Steve, his voice deceptively calm. "You have one second to hand my child over to me and return her snack."

Even after all this time, Steve hasn't gotten used to how gently Bucky speaks to her. He never thought his friend was capable of such a thing until he witnessed it first hand.

"Uncle Stevie, I needs my chips pwease," she requests, peering up at him. "You can has one if you hungwy."

"Seriously, didn't anyone teach you about the three second rule? You always start with three." His statement is met with a blank stare.

"One."

Bucky can only sigh when the head of the Irish Mafia takes off with his giggling child.

Steve holds Bee tighter, looks down at her, and smiles. "We gotta run, Bee. I'll get you more chips once I'm safe."

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Omg, help! He's too sweet 😍❤️😍❤️

More Than Worthy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky wants to make you his wife.

Word Count: Over 1k

Warnings: Implied smut, fluff, happy tears, established relationship, feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: Inspired by this ask here, more of our beautiful Mr. and Mrs. Barnes. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was an ordinary day when Bucky decided to propose to you.

He returned from a mission the day before and you welcomed him home with a smile on your face and open arms. It felt like he had been away for ages when in reality it was only a few days. It didn’t take long for him to drag you to bed so he could properly celebrate making it home to you, a mixture of pent-up energy and the need to feel you around him. Your moans of pleasure were a sound he missed while he was away, and you cried out his name so beautifully when you came. It didn’t take him long to fall over the edge with you, forever going wherever you were.

Bucky paid no attention to the time when he woke up, the sun shining through the curtains and casting a beautiful glow over your sleeping form. He took a moment to study you, the curves of your body as you faced him, the way your mouth parted slightly as you breathed. Brushing a finger along your cheek, he smiled when you scooted closer to him. He also felt a sense of pride from wearing you out the night before.

And outside forces be damned, nothing was getting him out of bed today.

You stirred once he kissed your forehead and wrapped his arm tighter around you. It took a moment for your eyes to focus before you whispered, “Morning.”

He exhaled, his heart beating faster when you smiled a sleepy tender smile. It amazed him how he fell more in love with you every day, but you made it so easy. The love you had was raw, pure, and real, a deep and lasting connection built from trust and respect, understanding and compassion. It endured and grew, going beyond the physical attraction he’d always have for you. You saw each other for who you were and valued each other fully. No matter the trials and tribulations you’d face, you’d do it together while your love endured and grew.

It was your love he thought of when he took your hand in his and gently whispered back, “Marry me.”

He heard your heart accelerate when you lifted your head. “What?” you asked, your voice still laced with sleep. Your eyes were wide open though and you wanted to be sure you heard him correctly.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. Not releasing your hand, he leaned over to open the nightstand drawer and took out a box. “You told me to ask you when you weren’t expecting it and when the time was right,” he explained, facing you again. “It’s time.”

Because he didn’t want to go another day without you being his wife.

You gasped and covered your mouth when he opened the box, tears springing to your eyes that sparkled almost as bright as the diamond in the ring. “Oh, my god…”

He helped you sit up, both of you on your knees on the bed. For a split second he thought his eyes would mist over, but he kept it together. “After everything I went through, I wasn't sure if I was capable of allowing myself to be loved. I just… Part of me felt so broken and unworthy.” He took a breath, not wanting to fuck this up. It already wasn’t perfect since there weren’t flowers or a romantic dinner, but this came straight from his heart and that was enough. “But then you came along and changed my life.”

You let out a happy laugh as a tear fell, which he quickly wiped away. “I did?”

“You did, and you know it,” he smiled back. Meeting you gave him a second chance and you changed everything for the better. “You showed me that not only was I not broken but I was more than worthy of being loved.”

“You are worthy of so much love, Bucky Barnes,” you smiled.

“So are you, baby. I love you so much, and I’m a better man because of you,” he swore, taking the ring out of the box as his heart continued to pound. Simple, beautiful, eternal. “So, will you marry me? Be my wife and my partner and continue to fight by my side in life and love?”

Bucky held his breath as he waited for your answer. He wanted to give you the kind of life and love you were worthy of. He wanted to protect and stand by you, and he didn’t want to imagine life without you.

Pressing your forehead to his, you breathed the simple most beautiful word against his lips. “Yes.”

“Yes?” he asked, his next breath shaky. Was the universe messing with him again? Was something going to drag him back to hell when he had heaven right in front of him?

“Yes!” you smiled. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

He pulled back to look at you closely, seeing nothing but love in your pretty eyes. “Are you sure? Because-”

“Mr. Barnes, put that ring on my finger so I can really call myself the future Mrs. Barnes,” you demanded, putting your hand in his face. “Please,” you added hastily.

His nose scrunched as his laughter filled the room. “Yes, future Mrs. Barnes,” he repeated. Slipping the ring on your finger, he placed a tender kiss over it. The perfect fit. “Thank you, baby,” he exhaled.

It was the only warning you got before he put you on your back and covered his lips with yours. He wanted to shout to everyone that you were going to be his wife, but he happily settled for saying “I love you” into your mouth. You breathed the words right back to him. And since he hadn’t planned to leave the bed anyway, he made love to you, your fingers laced together, the engagement ring pressing into his skin and reminding him that he wasn’t alone. That he had a future to look forward to.

He was home, holding you close, deep inside you, right where he belonged.

And he was more than worthy of love.

I love them, what can I say? ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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Charming bastard ❤️

Just a random little thought about Unbreakable Ties dark mob boss Curtis and his reluctant wife 😎 I'd say it's in holidays spirit, but honestly that's just a background setting, lol

It's lavish, but not in an ostentatious, ugly way at which you could scoff and despise it. The decor of the grand room is astonishing, but with that simplicity and moderation which are so very Curtis.

Christmas trees are arranged around the space, tall and dark like the master of the house himself. But only warm lights are decorating them, adding a touch of softness and glow to the heart of the forest brought inside the ballroom.

People are mingling around, their voices carrying the joy of the holidays (though you know most of those leeches are gorging on the spirit of grandiose and influence, not the bonds of friendship and family).

Frozen cranberries decorate the bottoms of champagne flutes and towers of cupcakes sparkle gold glitter in their gingerbread frosting. You already ate three, abandoning your craving for a fourth one after Curtis swiped a smudge of cream from the corner of your mouth with his thumb, which he then sucked clean.

Stickler for tradition, Curtis didn't fuck you yet. Not before the wedding night. But it didn't mean he hasn't found ways to assert his dominance and control over your body.

Body, which suddenly feels all new and unrecognizable to yourself, since it's reacting against all reason and determination to never give in. But one swipe of his thumb against your bottom lip, one look of those blue eyes eager to devour you, and your core ignites with need.

Unfortunately, Curtis knows it.

When his hand rests on the small of your back, you don't have to control yourself from flinching away from his touch, but you have to will your body not to melt into it too eagerly.

Curtis' big, tattooed hand radiates branding heat through the black velvet of your dress. It's a kind of sizzling sting that sucks your nipples into stiff points.

Just like when he had his fingers wrapped around the front of your neck, squeezing just a fraction, while with his other hand he slid the engagement ring onto your trembling finger.

It was that evening when he came to your family house, announced his decision to marry you and them carried you away despite your protests.

You were splayed on the dark couch, with Curtis kneeling on the floor, between your spread legs, after you sneered at him that he didn't even properly ask for your hand in marriage. So he got on his knees for you, but it was still you who was the one in a vulnerable position.

Beneath him, as his massive form towered over you even when he was crouched down.

Curtis' hold over you lingers whenever you share the same space. Which seems to be almost all the time, since he put that ring on your finger. You thought it was his way of ensuring you wouldn't try to escape, but over the weeks it became apparent that it's pure, dark possessiveness.

You're his. Forever.

As much as you hate that leash, it stirs something deep inside of you.

If you dare to betray Curtis, he'll make your lover suffer in the worst ways, but still keep you. He'd punish you, but hold you even closer, tighten the bonds until you can't breathe without feeling his ownership with every single intake.

For now, it's only his publicly announced decision and the most stunning, sparkling ring on your finger reminding the world and you that you belong to him. But you have a feeling that once Curtis fucks you, the ring or the wife label won't hold as much power as he himself will.

At the beginning of the Christmas party, which Curtis as the mob boss holds every year, you tried to point a few mafia princesses with sulky faces, glaring jealous daggers at you. They were still so eager to take your place and you told Curtis he should reconsider picking one of them.

His response was a dangerously dark smirk, that morphed into practiced easy smile as he addressed his guests. He thanked them for coming to share the joy of Christmas with the famiglia and with his beautiful fiancée.

Then he lifted his champagne flute in toast and, while everyone yelled a happy Merry Christmas, Curtis took your lips in a kiss that skated the edge of inappropriate.

You couldn't help the tiny gasp of surprise that melted on his tongue, nor the tinkle of moan as his hold around your waist tightened, pulling you even closer and squeezing your breasts against his hard chest.

When he pulled back, to the sound of clapping and joyful cheers, your hand itched to slap him. Or to slide between your thighs and deal with the need that soaked your black lace.

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That ending

Okay but you don’t understand how much I need feral, obsessed with breeding you mob!Curtis 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

😏 He'd be most pleased with that and even give that deep-chested groan as he held you to his chest.

To add to this previous bit about him, I imagine he has made up his mind about you as a result of wanting something fresh, but also having that dark, twisted need to bring you to heel in a way.

As the boss of bosses, Curtis had to know everyone somehow connected to the mafia families, as well foot soldiers and any on his payroll. But he never paid that much attention to a flock of young women, until their chosen or arranged (most of the time arranged) partners asked for his permission to marry.

Because nothing went without Curtis' approval, even such mundane things.

But they were simple, unimportant decisions only on the surface. Curtis knew damn well that certain unions were strategic for families and some of the families were greedy, or vengeful. Some unions he crushed, to keep the potential rivals from rising to more power and going against him.

He'd easily crush them, too, but he saw no point in wasting blood, time and resources on something he could prevent with a single No.

As the years passed, his most trusted men regularly mentioned that Curtis needed to get a wife and produce some heirs.

He ruled with an iron hand, but he knew he can't only be feared, but also provide a sense of stability and continuity for the men and families in the wide web of the mob. Having his own family would paint that picture and reassure everyone that his empire - which they saw as theirs, since they were immersed in it - would continue.

There was an array of mafia princesses to pick from. Most of them barely over eighteen, or in very early twenties, since for reasons not quite understandable to Curtis the families were so impatient to marry off their daughters as soon as possible.

He could, perhaps, understand it from the strategic point of view. But it didn't stir anything beside awkwardness and irritation, if he thought of getting himself a barely legal wife.

It kind of crept him out, actually.

So he dispassionately browsed the memorized troops of mafia linked women, making his own choice to stick to those over twenty three at least.

He wasn't thinking about that, however, when he was having dinner with his closest friends at Tanya's. Boasting a newly acquired Michelin star, mafia owned restaurant kept a private table for him at any time he wished.

Curtis was actually quite relaxed that night, snorting at his younger brother's antics and laughing at the good-natured mockery Kyril lobbed back at Edgar.

That's when you unexpectedly found yourself on his radar.

It wasn't even your doing, at first. It was your date, actually. Some pretty looking, clean-shaven man, who tried to play moderately confident, but clearly was a little nervous to find himself in a restaurant of that caliber.

He knocked down the cutlery and the tinkling sound of it resounded through the room, drawing curious glances.

Your quiet laughter followed.

It was a lovely kind of laugh - easy, a bit teasing, but with warmth to it that immediately boosted the man's confidence.

Curtis was about to avert his gaze, not interested in a civilian couple having a date (possibly one of the first dates, if the boy wanted to impress you). But he lingered a second longer on your face and his mind immediately supplied him with a mental portfolio on you.

You were a mafia born. Your family not the closest to the inner circle, nor with much influence, but your father and uncle have always been loyal and honorable.

And there you were, on a date with someone who was not of your world.

Curtis frowned, as he assessed or the details he knew about you. Like the fact you were older than the rest of the marriageable women within the mafia ranks and you were still unmarried. Not even dating anyone from the mob.

He felt sudden irritation. Not at the fact that you weren't married yet. No, that was actually becoming the most approved aspect. That whip of annoyance was at the realization that you were attempting to step out of the line. Out of mafia's clutches.

Out of his grasp.

He shouldn't have cared who you married, since your bloodline didn't entail significant influence, but as he watched the pretty boy touch your hand something inside him roared in anger.

Perhaps it was about a civilian, someone from the outside, trying to worm his way into the circle of blood and vows that went generations back. Or maybe it was you thinking that you can leave mafia connections behind and pretend to be content with a white picket fence life with a bland insurance agent.

Maybe it was the fact you broke away from the mold most mafia princesses were groomed into; daring to act bold and free and happy with small things.

Like sitting there and smiling, and laughing, while having a conversation, instead of holding a cold facade of being unbothered that you are in a fancy restaurant. You didn't seem to expect the world to fall at your feet; nor were you quiet and sweetly fake to appease your date.

A date who was really grating on Curtis' nerves the longer he flirted with you and touched you. A pathetic fool thinking he could poach something that belonged to Curtis.

Curtis remained calm; he always did, until the situation really called for the storm inside of him to be unleashed.

"Edgar," he gave a short call, but in a tone that had everyone at the table stilling.

Curtis lifted a tumbler of vodka on ice, tilting it towards the direction of your table, before bringing it to his lips.

"Find out everything you can on that man. Background check for now, no personal visits needed. Not yet."

His brother nodded, not questioning the unexpected demand. Kyril was looking at you and your date with a seemingly detached indifference.

"That's Enzo's daughter." He recognized you. "You think the weasel with her is a plant?"

"No." Curtis set down his glass. "I think he needs to be politely excused out of my future wife's life."

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Oh I don't think I'd notice the red flags either if he was standing shirtless in front of me 😂

Yeah. I think she'll break first. I know I would

😂

Deep in the Woods: Part 3

Pairing: Soft!Dark Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: A relaxing getaway in the woods may become your permanent home when you catch the eye of a lumberjack.

Part 2 | Series Masterlist | Part 4

Chapter Summary: Tension is thick with you and Bucky as you two have lunch together.

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.2k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, bits of MCU canon, grumpy x sunshine trope, invasive behavior, bits of insecurity, sexual tension, kissing, reader ignores red flags like she's colorblind, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: Next part of our lumberjack is here! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Since Bucky already unpacked the food, you helped set everything on a couple of plates. He said he was starving, and you didn't want to keep him waiting. You also didn’t know what kind of plans he had for the rest of the day. He could eat what you brought and send you on your way if he wished.

“This really does look delicious,” he commented, helping you carry everything to the dining room. “Especially the cookies.”

“I hope you like them,” you smiled, setting your plate on one end of the table. “Oh, thanks,” you added when he pulled the chair out for you.

“Did your ex not pull your chair out for you?” he asked, a hint of bitterness coming out when he said “ex”, but you may have been projecting.

You also swore you felt his fingers brush your shoulders when you sat down, but the touch faded immediately. “Why do you ask?”

“You just seem surprised that I did that,” he replied, taking his own seat across the table.

“Oh. Well. He did it from time to time,” you said. Some considered it to be an outdated gesture, but you always thought it was sweet. Your ex did it at the beginning of the relationship, but that quickly faded. That should’ve been a sign that it wasn’t meant to last. No one should ever stop trying or caring in a relationship. “It’s nice that you do that.”

“Time to time. What kind of boyfriend is that?” he muttered like he hadn't heard the last thing you said, taking a large bite of his food. “A lot of men today don’t know how to treat a woman. Bet he never took you dancing or dressed up for you either.”

Your eyebrows shot up. The bitterness surprised you, but it didn’t upset you. There was no reason to defend your ex, and Bucky came from a different time. You were sure he treated women well and they likely felt lucky to date him.

“No, he didn’t really dress up for me or take me out dancing,” you confirmed. The more you thought about it, the more you wondered why you settled. Was it what you thought you deserved? “Which is fine since he wasn't really a good dancer.”

“I'm a good dancer,” he blurted out before he cleared his throat. “At least, I used to be.”

“I’ll bet you still are,” you smiled softly. He didn't quite smile back, but there was a tug in the corner of his mouth. It did break your heart a little to wonder when he last danced with someone he cared about. To be fair, you knew nothing about his dating history. It could’ve been years ago or recent. “Though most dancing today is just…”

“Grinding,” he finished for you, licking a bit of the food from his lips.

You swallowed your bite hard, proud of yourself for not choking. Picturing Bucky grinding wasn’t the best thing to do while eating. “Wow, did you make this table?” you asked. A change of topic was good, and if he caught on he didn’t call you out on it. Plus he mentioned that he made some of his own furniture. That was a safe and natural topic to discuss.

“I did,” he answered, running a hand along the table top. “One of the first things I made.”

“It’s gorgeous,” you smiled. He really had a talent, and he could probably sell furniture if he really wanted to.

“Thanks,” he smiled gently. “Not just for the compliment, but coming over. It's…” He tapped a finger on the table. “It’s really nice having company.”

You glanced around. There was a bench on both sides of the table instead of chairs, and it was easy for you to imagine his friends and members of the Avengers gathered around for a nice meal. But how often did that happen?

“I’m not much company,” you said before remembering he didn’t like you self-depracting. “But thanks for inviting me over. That was nice of you to do that.”

He leaned forward in his seat, his eyes locked deeply with yours. What was it about his stare that made you want to duck your head? Was it because he seemed to look right through you? “I think you’re great company,” he said, bringing a small smile to your face. “In fact, I think you should stay here with me.”

You blinked a few times. “I should… stay? You want me to stay here?” you asked. Exactly how long did he want you to stay?

“Yeah, after lunch. We can hang out for a bit longer and talk. Maybe play a game,” he suggested, finishing the food on his plate before he grabbed a cookie. “Unless you have somewhere else to be or have other plans?”

“I don’t really have anywhere to be,” you said. It wasn't like you had any plans either. Any excuse you came up with would've sounded lame if you tried. Spending more time there before you went back to your cabin wouldn't be so bad. “What games do you have?”

Bucky didn't answer since he bit into the cookie. With a groan he watched you watching him as he devoured the treat, making sure to eat up every single morsel. He licked his fingers and lips clean once he finished and you had to press your legs together, which did nothing to relieve the sudden heat there.

If that was how he ate a cookie, how did he eat… No, it wasn't good to let your mind wander.

“Y-You like them?” you asked, your voice breathier than normal.

“Like them? Do you have any idea how delicious your cookies are?” he rasped, the muscles rippling in his right arm as he helped himself to another. “So fucking sweet. Could just eat you up.”

The wave of heat flowed up to your neck. “I’m sorry?” you asked.

“Could just eat them up,” he replied.

“Oh, right.” Of course, he was talking about the cookies, and you hadn't heard him correctly.

“I went years without dessert,” he said almost more to himself than you, but he continued to stare when he finished his second. “Didn’t realize how much I missed it until I didn’t have it.”

Your heart went out to him. If you ever wanted a treat, you had the privilege to buy one or get the ingredients to make them yourself. He didn’t have either option and that wasn’t by choice. What he had to endure, at least the information you were privy to, you wouldn’t wish upon your worst enemy.

“You’re more than welcome to eat the entire plate if you’d like,” you offered, chewing your lip as you thought more about it. “And, you know, if there’s something you’d really like or if you have a favorite treat or dessert, maybe I can bake it for you?”

“You’d do that?” He looked touched before his cheek twitched. “Even after I was an ass to you and you already made lunch for me once?”

“Well, you weren’t a complete ass to me and this lunch was for both of us,” you teased a little. “And I really don’t mind. I like to cook and bake.”

“Yet you do data entry,” he deadpanned.

You shrugged. “Data entry is a job that helps me pay my bills, and that’s why I do it. Nothing more.”

“So, you wouldn’t miss it if you ever had the chance to quit?” he asked curiously.

“I mean, I might miss it if I don’t have something else lined up, but it isn’t exactly a dream job. I don’t know if I actually have a dream job, but I could never be a professional baker or cook because those are things I love to do, and I want to keep enjoying them without pressure added to them,” you said. You respected people who went for their dreams, but you felt like doing those hobbies as a job would somehow taint them for yourself. Doing them for fun and spoiling those close to you made you happier.

“That makes sense. You want to keep the purity of it,” he said. You had to agree with that. “You know, I did offer to let you use my kitchen while you’re in the area. Maybe you can bake for me here or we can bake something together.”

Lunch and meeting his cat. Playing games. Baking together. Bucky must’ve been desperate for the company if he wanted you to hang out with him. What other explanation was there? “That would be nice,” you smiled. Using his kitchen would be amazing.

“But we can figure out what to make together later. You asked about games.” He licked his fingers again with a hum and you almost looked away. “I have a deck of cards, or I have stuff like checkers, chess, or Scrabble.”

Plenty of games for two. “I’m fine with…” you stopped talking when fur brushed against your leg, making you giggle. “Hey, Alpine.”

Bucky smiled softly. “Al, let her be.”

“Oh, she’s fine,” you smiled, reaching down to pet her. She was a sweet cat. “Is she strictly an indoor cat or does she ever go on walks or anything with you?”

“I carry her or put her in my coat if we venture away from the house. Not because I think she’ll run off, but because of some of the other animals in the woods. I don't want her to get hurt or worse.”

“That makes sense.” Your heart ached at the thought of something taking Alpine away, but it warmed at the image of the burly man carrying her around in his coat. “You said you came out to the woods with her. Did it take her a bit to get used to the place?”

He nodded. “It was a little bit of an adjustment, but she loved it once she got used to it,” he said, resting back in his chair and observing you as you ate. “I don't think she’d ever want to go back to the city since she loves this place so much. She has everything she needs here.”

Something flickered in his eyes and you weren't sure why his tone sounded strange. It was almost as if he was trying to convince you and himself that she loved it there. “Well, as long as she’s happy and you're happy and the place feels like home, that’s what matters, right?”

“Right,” he whispered.

“Though I imagine it must get a little lonely since you're so far from the city,” you commented, wishing you hadn't said so. He wanted to get away after the rough mission he experienced and didn’t need you commenting on his possible loneliness.

“It can be,” he said, leaning his arms on the table and gazing at you. “But it isn’t so lonely right now.”

“No, it isn’t,” you said, the conversation you had with Kenna popping up in your mind. Maybe he was lonely and you were, too, and he was still shirtless and he could make you forget that loneliness for a short while and help with your sexual frustration and… something was stopping you from going there. “I guess it's too bad I won't be around after a couple of weeks,” you smiled sadly.

Bucky frowned and abruptly stood up from his chair. “I’m getting another drink,” he said, his voice a quiet rumble. “You want one?”

You frowned a little, too, when you saw his eye twitch. Did your comment somehow upset him? “Sure, thanks,” you replied, watching him grab both glasses and walk out with heavy steps.

You sighed once he was out of sight. For a second you wanted to believe that Bucky was giving you an opening, but you didn’t take it. But what if you hit on him in return and flirting with you wasn’t his intention at all? How awkward would that be if he turned you down or told you to leave? You’d have to hide out in your cabin for the rest of your trip.

If Kenna were there she’d tell you to get out of your head.

Alpine brought your attention to her with a small purr, brushing against your leg again. “You really like it out here, huh?” you asked, giving her another pet. “I can see why. It’s beautiful, peaceful. Don't have to worry about noisy neighbors and traffic and crowds.” You paused and giggled. “But I guess you never had to worry about traffic and crowds. Only Bucky did.”

“Not anymore.”

You jolted when Bucky set your drink down. You hadn’t heard him come back in. At least he wasn't frowning anymore. “Sorry. I was just-”

“It’s fine. I talk to her, too,” he said, nodding to your plate. “You haven't finished your food.”

“Oh, I think I was just caught up in our conversation,” you said, going back to eating.

Instead of taking his seat at the head of the table he took a seat on the bench to your left. Alpine hopped in his lap and he rubbed her head, but he kept his eyes on you. “The bowl of stew you had yesterday was a small helping, too. Do you not eat enough?”

You coughed when you took your next bite and his hand went to your back since he was close enough. His hand was huge. Warm. Why were you thinking about that? “I eat plenty,” you defended yourself after you took a drink. He didn't remove his hand. “Three meals a day and snacks in between.”

“Sorry. That was rude of me to ask that way,” he said, slowly pulling his hand away. “Just making sure you're taken care of since you’re out here all by yourself.”

“It's okay.” The question surprised you, but you weren't at all angry or put off. It was actually kind of sweet that your well-being mattered. “But you don’t have to worry about me. Unless it involves chopping firewood, I can take care of myself.”

He raised an eyebrow like he didn’t quite believe you. “I know all about taking care of myself, but it’s tough some days having to go it alone,” he said, watching meticulously as you worked on finishing up your plate. “You shouldn't have to.”

Your well-being wasn't Bucky’s responsibility as flattering as it was that he cared. But the fact that a virtual stranger cared more about your safety or if you ate enough more than some who knew you for ages hurt. It shouldn’t matter, but it did. And once your getaway was over, you’d be back in the city and back to your routine and Bucky would be back to his routine, too.

“It is tough some days,” you agreed. That was why you wanted to have a good and caring partner to lean on so you could ask for help if and when you needed it. What you got instead was a cheater, but you were better off. “You shouldn't have to go it alone either. No one should,” you said, deflecting a bit so you didn’t focus on your thoughts and feelings.

Bucky sitting so close and watching you made it hard to think properly. Taking your next breath didn't feel natural either. The short time you spent together hadn't accustomed you to his lingering stares or being the center of his attention. It was a lot. Not bad, just a lot.

He hummed once you ate your last bite and took your plate for you. “We can play in the den.”

“You have a den, too?”

“Yeah. I almost thought the place was too big for me, but I like the space. Also has perfect lighting when I read,” he said.

“That’s really nice,” you smiled. It was also the perfect amount since he eventually wanted to have a family. “My apartment has this little nook where I curl up with a pillow and blanket when I read.”

“A reading nook,” he said, glancing behind him. “That’s not a bad idea.”

“Everyone should be comfortable while they’re reading,” you said, Alpine hot on your tail as Bucky led you to the den.

It wasn’t as large as the living room, but still spacious and it had the perfect small table for you two to sit and play a game. “How do you feel about Scrabble?” he asked.

“I’m semi-confident in my skills,” you said, tucking your legs beneath you when you sat down. “Do Sam and Steve like to play games?”

“They don’t mind them, but these games have been sitting here collecting dust,” he replied, bringing the game out. “Now I finally have a partner to play with.”

Your brows furrowed. You assumed one of his friends would play a game with him if they stopped by, but maybe they did other activities. “Well, I hope I’m a worthy opponent.”

“I’m sure you are, but I’m pretty good myself,” he said without a hint of bragging. “Winner picks the next game,” he added, more like a statement than a suggestion.

“Oh,” you said. He assumed you were staying for more than one game. You couldn’t exactly blame him since you confirmed you had no plans. “Yeah, okay. Winner picks the next game.”

He smiled triumphantly. “You’re not a sore loser, are you?”

“No,” you giggled, helping him set up the board. His fingers brushed yours when he handed you the letter pieces, tingles shooting down your spine. It was sad how starved you felt for some affection, and it felt selfish to indulge. But was it selfish when he was single and so were you? “Are you?”

“I try not to be,” he said, taking a seat to your left again instead of across from you. “Either way it’s a win though.”

“Yeah? How’s that?”

“Because even if I don’t win this game, we’re still going to play another and there’s a chance I’ll win that.”

You tried not to smile. “That’s a good way to look at it.”

“I imagine that’s how you look at things,” he said, tilting his head. “A little bit brighter than most.”

You froze. Kenna said something similar yesterday. “I’m sorry, what did you say you did after you left yesterday?” you asked curiously.

“Spent most of the day and evening inside. It was uneventful. Why?”

“No reason,” you smiled. There was no way he was by your cabin after he left yesterday. No possible way. It was silly to even think that for a moment.

“You asked for a reason,” he said. “Why?”

“Well, I was chatting with a friend just outside of the cabin yesterday and I thought-”

“You thought what? That I was hanging around and eavesdropping?” he asked, your eyes rounding at the bite in his tone. It was reminiscent of when he discovered you attempting to chop firewood.

“No!” Why had you opened your mouth? “I just heard a couple of noises like branches snapping, but it was probably an animal or something. I don’t really know the surroundings here.”

He nodded after a moment. “There are animals in the woods, so it’s good to be on guard if you’re sitting outside. One of the reasons I have a security system is so I can see all angles outside of the place,” he said, his shoulders relaxing. “Sorry if I sounded upset. I just…” His jaw clenched. “I thought this was going well, but you’re scared of me just like everyone else.”

Your face fell and his apology didn’t make the guilt you felt go away. If anything, you felt worse. Things were going well, and you blew it. “No, I’m sorry, and I’m not scared of you, Bucky.”

“You’re not?” he asked, his eyes boring into yours.

“I’m not,” you answered. You had no reason to be scared. If he wanted to hurt you or do anything else, he would’ve done so already. “But if you want me to go-”

He grabbed your wrist before you could move. “Stay,” he whispered, sliding his hand down to grip yours. It was a strong grip, but it didn’t hurt.

“You want me to stay?” you asked. A gorgeous hero wanted to spend time with you. He really was as desperate for your company as you were for his. But it had to be because you were the only person nearby, right?

“Yeah.” He nodded to the table. “I mean, we already went through the trouble of setting up the game,” he said, his voice lighter.

You smiled a little. It was a good sign that he wasn’t kicking you out. “You did,” you agreed, not pulling your hand away. It felt nice.

“And maybe the overall winner can pick dinner instead of another game. Could be something simple. I have plenty of stuff here to make.”

“Dinner? Wait, I’m staying for dinner?” you asked, confused. He hadn’t mentioned anything about dinner tonight. “I thought I was heading back to the cabin after a couple of games.”

“Why would you do that? I thought we were having fun,” he said, tilting his head. “What, you’d rather eat alone?”

“Oh, I am having fun, and I don’t want to eat alone.” It has been a fun afternoon so far. It continued to surprise you that he wanted you around. “You sure you don’t mind? It’ll be dark after dinner, and I wouldn’t want you-”

“I don’t mind walking you back if it’s dark. I’d prefer that, actually.”

“Okay,” you smiled. Dinner would be nice. “And I want you to remember what you said earlier because when I win so you can’t act grumpy.”

“You think I'm grumpy?” he teased, complete with a grumpy stare.

“From the short time I’ve known you, you do give off grumpy vibes,” you teased back, the tension fading away.

“I’m an old man. I think I’ve earned my right to be grumpy,” he said, carefully looking over his letters.

“Well, you don’t look like an old man,” you said. Not with the way he was built. “You look really good,” you added, feeling the need to do so.

His thumb moved along your hand and you weren’t sure if he was doing it intentionally or not. “Glad you like what you see,” he said in a low voice, his eyes flickering to yours.

Before you could concentrate on the heat spreading in your body, he went back to the letters and carefully placed his tiles on the board. The room remained silent when he set the last tile down and you tried not to react when you read the word. It was almost impossible not to, especially with how he kept rubbing his thumb along your hand.

QUIVER

“Quiver.” You swallowed a little. “So, that’s 18 points. I guess I have my work cut out for me, huh?”

Your eyes stayed on the board when he moved a little closer, feeling the warmth that rolled off his body. He wasn’t lying when he said he ran warm. “I guess so,” he murmured.

Clearing your throat, you tried to concentrate on choosing a decent word. You couldn’t think of anything spectacular, and you were blaming that on Bucky since he was so close. You felt his eyes on you, too, and you dared to sneak another glance at him. He looked like he was two seconds away from devouring you. And you wanted him to.

“Fuck it,” you whispered, leaning in and pressing your lips against his.

It wasn’t a passionate kiss or anything over the top. Just a soft, chaste kiss to test the waters, to break the tension that you were certain at this point both of you felt. He didn’t kiss you back since you pulled away before he could, but he leaned forward like he was chasing your lips. And he refused to let you look away when he opened his eyes, cupping your cheek and silently demanding that you stare back at him.

If he looked like he wanted to devour you before…

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your heart racing when he brought his metal hand to your face, too.

“I’m not,” he whispered back, slowly leaning in.

A flash of lightning nearby illuminated the woods outside the window followed by a roll of thunder that made you jump back before he could kiss you, your heart racing again as the sudden sound of raindrops followed. “It’s raining?” you asked. You didn’t know it was going to storm today.

“Yeah,” he said. He didn’t seem to care at all since he was too busy staring at your mouth. “Supposed to rain through the rest of the afternoon and part of the evening, so it’s a good thing you’re here with me.”

“Oh. Yeah,” you said. There was no way you’d make it back to the cabin without getting caught in the storm, but that was the last thing on your mind when his thumb moved over your lips.

“What’s wrong? Were you scared I’d kick you out? Make you get all wet?” he rumbled, your breath hitching when he slid one hand to the back of your neck. “You don’t need to go outside to get wet for me.”

“Bucky,” you gasped.

His lips skimmed yours before he pulled away. “But why don’t we try to finish our game?” he suggested, your mouth falling open. “We’ll see who breaks first.”

Moving fast! Our poor girl. To be fair, this was meant to be a romantic vacation for her, and I'd ignore the red flags if a shirtless Bucky was paying attention to me. So, which one is going to break first? What do we think will happen next? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[needmorereading]

I need to lay on his chest and nuzzle my face into his neck

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nobody say a fucking word about tumblr we can’t remind these billionaires we exist

[needmorereading]

"Candy Hearts" by Tommy Siegel

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I love them, your honour!

Frankie being Bee’s right hand man when they grow up 🙊

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader, daughter nicknamed Bumblebee

AN: Drabble written on my phone.

"I don't understand why you would say something so hurtful, Malyshka." Bucky sighs, burying his face in the curve of your shoulder. His arms keeping you firmly on his lap as the two of you watch the rambunctious toddlers run around the living room. "What did I do to deserve that hmm?"

Your eyes roll instinctively. All of this is because you mentioned how cute it would if Frankie ended up being your daughter's right hand man when they grow up. Now you have two choices, reassure the surly pakahan or needle him relentlessly.

Considering that he is the love of your life, the choice is obvious.

"When weddings are finally in stock and they get married—" You glance up when Bucky makes a pained noise in the back of his throat. "–he can be Mr. Frankie Barnes because we both know he's going to take her last name."

Bucky's eyes widen and he glares at Frankie, the toddler donning a plastic shield in preparation for the upcoming dragon battle.

"Yknow I think he's about to inherit a house in Alaska," Bucky mutters under his breath.

Shifting in his arms, you grab his bearded face, pushing his chin up until your eyes lock on each other, your serious gaze clashing with his sullen one.

"Don't even think about it. He's an adorable kid and sweet and harmless—don't give me that look. He is." Lowering your lips to his, you smooth your hand through his thick hair and whisper. "And he's her best friend."

Bucky groans. He knows you're right. Still doesn't mean he has to like it. Or the shifty bastard that somehow managed to charm both his girls the only way a shifty little bastard can. But if his sweet Bumblebee is happy, he's happy. Kinda.

"Besides," you grin wickedly, wrapping your arms around his neck in anticipation of his reaction. "The only thing better than an actual wedding would be watching them have a pretend one. Consider it practice for the big day and—Bucky"

Your husband doesn't let you down. He makes an aggrieved noise that rolls down your back seconds before he stands and tosses you over his shoulder, informing the toddlers that he going to protect you while the duo finishes their mission. You see the pair nod in unison with matching serious expressions before you're carried out the room.

The whispered threats of what's about to happen since you want to play so damn much, he can play too has you grinning.

All you can think is, if you say so Bucky.

[needmorereading]

*gets out of bed*

no

*gets back in bed*

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Goodluck Pikachu