#BUCKY BARNES X OFC

[sjsmith56]

A Family for Christmas

Summary: Bucky’s acts of kindness towards a single mother and her two kids leads to more.

Length: 4.7 K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, named OFC, named OCCs (one boy, one girl), Pepper Stark, Sam Wilson, Sarah Wilson.

Warnings: Abandonment issues, brief mention of domestic violence, sweetness overload.

Author notes: Admit it, this is the dream scenario many of us want for Bucky Barnes. Just enjoy it.

One dark and dreary late afternoon in December

The lineup at the grocery store was long, as the Christmas season had started. Bucky glanced at what people had in their baskets, seeing mostly party food like fancy cheeses, charcuterie meats, snacks of all kinds and some things he had never heard of or seen before. Other than the lady in front of him and himself, everyone seemed to be buying for a Christmas party. The lady in front of him, with a small toddler girl in the child seat, and an older boy looking anxiously at the items she took out of the cart, kept a close eye on the tally. When it got to $95 and she saw how many necessities were still on the conveyor belt, she sighed at the boy.

"I'm sorry, honey, we won't be able to get the snack mix or the kids' cereal," she said, then looked at the cashier. "Could you remove those from the tally, please? I only have $100 to spend." The cashier frowned at her. "I'm really sorry."

"Keep it on," interrupted Bucky. "I'll pay whatever is over that amount." He looked sympathetically at the woman. "I know what it's like to not afford things."

Her lips trembled, then she swallowed, but she nodded her head and whispered. "Thank you."

After everything was put through, the amount owing was $123.45. Bucky peeled off two twenties, then said to give the change to the lady. When she started to protest, he smiled at her again.

"It's alright. You take your kids to McDonald's or something."

"Thank you again," she whispered. "You're a kind man."

He smiled at her, watching as she pushed her cart out the door. Her son kept looking at Bucky until they were outside, then he heard the boy just before the sliding doors closed.

"Mom, that was Bucky Barnes."

Smiling, he watched while the cashier rang his things through, paying cash for his bag of groceries. As he stepped outside into the chilly December air, he could hear a car being started and failing. The person tried several times, then there was the sound of crying and he walked towards it. It was the mom, sitting behind the wheel, weeping. Her son was leaning over from the back seat, trying to comfort her while the little girl looked like she was going to cry at any moment. Walking up, he knocked on her window and smiled as she lowered it.

"I could hear you trying to start your car," he said. "Would you let me take a look at it?"

"You've already done more than enough, Mr. Barnes," she began, flustered, as she wiped the tears from her eyes. "I'll figure it out on my own."

That brought a smile to his face.

"The thing is, you don't have to," he replied. "I'm offering and it's going to cost you to get someone to have a look. It's getting dark and I don't like the idea of you and your kids sitting here in a parking lot waiting. Please, let me help."

"Okay, let me just pop the hood," she said, reaching below the dashboard for the release mechanism.

He lifted it up, pulled out his phone and activated the flashlight, looking at the engine. Then he went back to the window.

"What's your son's name?" he asked. "I'd like to borrow him to hold the light up so I can see what I'm doing."

"Liam," she answered, then she looked back at her son. "Would you help Mr. Barnes?"

He grinned at his mother, then opened the door. Bucky shook the boy's hand as if he were a grownup.

"Would you hold the phone up so that the flashlight is on where I need it?" Liam took the phone and aimed it to light up the area while Bucky began checking the wiring. "When I was a boy, it was a tough time for families. People got sick and died, some men lost their jobs and took to the road to find work, leaving their families behind. It was important for friends and neighbours to help those who needed it. I don't know how many times my mother made extra and sent me with food to a family that needed it."

"My dad left," said Liam, bluntly. He looked up at Bucky. "Said he didn't want to be a dad anymore because it was too much for him. I heard him tell my mom one night and, in the morning, he was gone."

Bucky hesitated, sickened at what he just heard. "I'm sorry. That makes you the man of the family now and that's a lot for a boy your age." He looked over at the woman. "Try it now." It still didn't catch, and he put up his hand for her to stop. "Does she have a job?"

Liam nodded. "Part-time so we don't have as much money. She cries every night after she gets home and Grandma leaves. I'd find a job but I'm too young." He wiped his eyes. "Why did he do that? Why did he stop loving us?"

"I wish I had an answer for you," said Bucky, "but I don't. I'll tell you what, Liam; I'm going to talk to some friends of mine and see if we can help you out, okay?"

He found what he thought was the problem and asked the mom to try again. This time the engine caught. Taking his phone back from Liam, he closed the hood and walked the boy back to the back seat door. Then he leaned down.

"I found a loose wire and fixed it, but it may come loose again," he said. "If you want, I can come over and do a better fix during the day. I'll give you my number and you let me know, okay? I wouldn't turn your car off before you get home, so maybe go through McDonald's Drive-Thru for dinner."

The woman swallowed and looked up at him, almost ready to cry but she nodded, and unlocked her cell phone, offering it to him. As she drove away Bucky memorized her licence plate number and made a phone call. After a short conversation he hung up and drove back to his place. He had some homework to do.

The following morning, he received a phone call from the mom, Lorraine, telling him that her car wouldn't start.

"I hate to be a bother," she said, "but I need it for work, and I can't afford to get it fixed at the garage."

"It's no problem," replied Bucky. "I offered. Give me your address and I'll come over."

Half an hour later, he arrived at her place, noticing the house had a For Sale sign on it. Lorraine met him at the door, all bundled up, then said she would open the garage door from inside. After meeting him inside the garage she retreated back into the house. The car had the hood up, as it appeared Lorraine tried to fix it herself before phoning Bucky. In the light of day, it was obvious the car was worn out. Carefully, he checked all the connections, tightening what he could. He started it up, let it run for a bit then stopped it before trying again. This time there was nothing except for a clicking sound and he sighed; it was a bad alternator. He could buy another one and install it but from what he just saw of this car there were other parts ready to fail. Taking his phone out, he phoned the number from the evening before.

"Hi, it's Bucky. I'm at the lady's house, trying to get her car started. It's worse than I thought. The car's old and worn out, and even though I can fix the immediate problem it's just a matter of time before the next part fails." He listened for several moments. "Her house is up for sale. I haven't talked to her about it yet but she's definitely in a tough position." The person on the other end of the call must have suggested something because he nodded his head. "Alright, I'll give it a try, but I would rather be the one tracking down the husband and making an example of him."

Removing the keys and lowering the hood, Bucky went to the front door and knocked on it. Lorraine arrived with her toddler on her hip, looking hopefully at him. He gave her the keys grimly.

"It's the alternator and I can fix it, but that car is already falling apart," he said, as kindly as he could. "It's only a matter of time before something else fails on it."

She swallowed, nodded her head and turned away so he wouldn't see her tears. Digging into his jeans pocket, he pulled out a clean handkerchief, offering it to her. That set her off and she walked back inside crying, leaving him at the door. Reluctantly, he entered and felt his heart break at what he saw. There was only a couch and end table with a lamp on it in the living room, no furniture in the kitchen or dining room. The couch had a sheet, blanket, and pillow on it. It was cold in the house, which explained why she and the toddler were dressed in several layers of clothes. As she sat on the couch, she wept for several minutes then gathered herself.

"It's been six weeks since my husband left us," she said, her emotions making her voice crack. "He took the car, cleaned out our savings and said he had enough of being leeched off of. Blamed us for all of his troubles, like we were the ones who got him fired for drinking on the job. I had another bank account that he didn't know about. I used that money to buy the car, as it was all I could afford. My mom looks after the kids when I have to work but she doesn't like it when I work an evening shift because it means she has to go home on the bus in the dark. I don't even get full time hours and there's no benefits. If any of us gets sick ...." She stopped, taking several long breaths to calm herself. "I've sold almost every piece of furniture in the house, except for this and the kid's beds. I sleep here on the couch. The heat is turned down to barely enough to keep us warm at night. I applied for welfare but because I co-own the house and have a job, they say I'm ineligible. I don't know what I'm going to do."

She looked up at Bucky, as he stood in front of her. He saw in her eyes something he hadn't seen since he was a boy during the Depression. It wasn't just despair; it was desperation. She was at the breaking point. He gestured to a space next to her on the couch, only sitting when she moved over for him.

"I was a boy during the Depression. I saw the worst in people, but I also saw the best, often from my own family. No matter what I went through since then I've tried to live by that since I became a free man. After I saw you last night, I gave your licence plate number to a friend, and we've already put things into motion to help you. Until we get everything in place I'll do what I can for you. One of the first things we'll do is to get you a reliable car. The one in the garage isn't it. So, we're going to pick up a rental. It will be paid for by my friend."

"Okay." Her voice was shaking. "How will I pay your friend back? My job isn't the best paying. It's a struggle to keep a roof over our heads."

"You don't," smiled Bucky. "She can afford it. As for your job, we think you should quit and focus on taking care of your kids and your personal life. She's going to hire you herself but is trying to find the right position that will allow you to have a work / life balance as she's a single mother herself. You know what she means?"

Lorraine nodded her head. "Thank you. I don't know what to say."

"There's more," he smiled. "We've put someone into finding your husband." She looked alarmed. "Not to make him come back, but to make him accountable. He cleaned out your savings account, so it's only fitting that he gives you sole title to the house. We're looking for a place for you and your kids, your mom, too, if you want. Until we get you moved into that new place, you crank up the heat here. I'll help you get some more furniture, a TV and maybe one of those game systems for Liam. He's a good kid and I can tell he wants to help you as much as he can."

"You would do that for me?" she asked, ready to cry again.

"Not just me," he smiled, then placed his arm around her shoulder and squeezed it. "My friend assigned me to be your helper. So, how do you feel about doing some furniture shopping, then I'll take you and your little miss for lunch before we pick up your rental car?"

If gratitude could be measured, Bucky was sure Lorraine was overflowing with it. Perhaps it was just knowing that someone cared enough to help, without expectation of repayment, that made her face light up in a way that made him feel good. They bought some necessary furniture, including a new bedroom set for her, and for the dining room, to be delivered first thing the following morning. They picked up a television set and game system as well. By the time lunch was finished, Bucky received a text message that the rental car was ready for pickup along with some other necessities that would be waiting. He felt like Santa Claus, after giving Lorraine a bank card with some funds already deposited that would allow her to look after herself and her kids until she started her new job. When he brought the television and game system to the house, he was met by a Stark Industries technician, who set it up for the family.

"Go pick up Liam from school, get some more groceries, and don't worry about money," he advised, before he left. "You have my phone number. Call me day or night. I'm at your disposal."

When he did receive a call, a frantic one made by Liam, two nights later, to report his father had shown up at the house, hit his mom, and broken the TV set in a fit of rage, Bucky wasted no time in getting there, quickly dressing, and asking Wong for a portal to the house. His wish to make an example of the father was granted as he entered the house, lifted the man one-handed, and held him against the wall, while instructing Lorraine to call the police.

"Pack some bags for yourself and the kids," he said, as her husband was being led away in handcuffs. "You're staying somewhere else tonight. I'll let my friend know that you need the new place sooner rather than later."

How a man could treat his wife and kids the way her husband had was beyond Bucky's comprehension. If they were his family, he would be beyond the moon to have Liam as his son, Larissa as his daughter and Lorraine for his wife. They deserved so much more than what her husband had subjected them to.

Three weeks later

After locking up the house, confirming it was all cleared and clean for the new owners, then giving the realtor the keys, Lorraine walked back to Bucky's car, not looking back at where she once lived. In the three weeks since she was at the lowest point of her life, she had learned to look forward to the future. Already set up in a new apartment, they had only stopped to meet with the realtor one last time to hand over the keys. Smiling back at Liam, her mom, and her daughter Larissa, she sat in the front seat with Bucky.

"So, where to now?" she asked of the man who had become her friend in that time.

"That's a surprise," he said. He looked back at the kids, smiling at Lorraine's mom, who still didn't quite trust him, then put his SUV into gear. "We have a company function to attend where you'll meet some of your new colleagues and their families."

"Is it a Christmas party?" asked Liam.

"It is," smiled Bucky. "I heard a certain jolly old man might be there."

"Santa." Larissa beamed at Bucky through the rear-view mirror, her toddler voice full of excitement. "I want Santa."

"We'll see when we get there, won't we?"

When they did get there, a prestigious hotel complete with valet service for the car, even Lorraine's mother was awed at the setup for the Christmas party. After checking in at the desk set up outside the banquet hall, Bucky escorted them inside to a winter wonderland, complete with people dressed as elves. It was full of the lights and sounds of Christmas. Larissa, overwhelmed a little, asked to be lifted up and carried by her mother, while Liam stuck close to Bucky, eventually grasping his hand, which pleased the big man immensely. He saw Pepper Stark in the distance and led the others towards her. Her face lit up when Bucky introduced them to each other.

"Lorraine, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," she smiled. "These must be your kids, Larissa and Liam, and Bucky said he convinced your mother to attend. Welcome all of you."

"It's you," gasped Lorraine. "You're the friend who's been helping us."

"Guilty as charged, although it was Bucky who got it going," said Pepper. "He couldn't bear the thought of what you were going through. I was in a position to help, and it was totally my pleasure. When you start in the New Year, you and I will have a good sit-down time together and we'll talk about a lot of things but today, just enjoy yourselves and eat, drink and be merry."

She squeezed Lorraine's hand, then smiled up at Bucky before greeting another attendee and their family by name.

"Come on, let's find a place to sit," said Bucky.

He saw Sam at a table with Sarah and the boys, waved to them and asked to join their table. Lorraine and the kids had already met Captain America in the few weeks since Bucky first met them, but her mother was almost dumbfounded at sitting with the famous hero. It wasn't just a Christmas party, there was also dancing, and a place for the kids to try out the latest in games. AJ and Cass invited Liam to join them in playing video games. Breathlessly asking permission of his mother, she nodded then glowed at how happy he seemed to be included by the other boys. When the band began to play The Christmas Song, Sam asked Lorraine's mother to dance, receiving a giddy acceptance. Bucky looked at Lorraine.

"What do you say? Would you like to dance?"

"We'll have to take Larissa with us," she answered. "I'm not much of a dancer."

"Not a problem," he smiled, then offered his arms to the three-year-old. "Do you want to dance with Mommy and me?"

"Pease!"

With big grins on their faces, Bucky held the toddler between them, then managed to lead Lorraine through the dance. Sarah watched, happy at how animated the super soldier seemed on the dance floor. Sam had told her about the woman's struggles and how Bucky became friends with the family after meeting them at the grocery store. She could see the beginnings of something between the couple, although he was too much of a gentleman to do anything while Lorraine's divorce petition had just been filed. As much as Lorraine and her kids deserved to have a good life, so did Bucky, and Sarah found herself hoping for the best for the tall super soldier.

One year later

The ten-year-old boy was on guard at the door of his bedroom while Bucky wrapped up two presents for Lorraine. The first present was a framed sign made by Liam with decorations by Larissa, and the second present a small box containing something special from Bucky. Liam heard his mother talking about leaving the kitchen and whispered at the dark-haired man.

"She's coming!"

"It's okay, I'm done," said the super soldier. "I'll let you put them under the tree."

Handing them off to the boy, he left the bedroom, heading towards the sound of Lorraine before she stepped out of the kitchen. Stopping in front of her, he placed his hands on her waist and maneuvered her to some mistletoe that was hanging. With an amused shake of her head, she raised her cheek to him for a kiss but was surprised by a full kiss on the lips.

"Bucky, what's got into you?"

"Collecting my mistletoe tax," he grinned. "I'm going to need several instalments."

Larissa tugged on Bucky's shirt. "Me, too?"

"You, too, little girl," he laughed, lifting her up until her head touched the mistletoe, then bringing her down so she could kiss his cheek. "Both my girls need to pay up. Your mom, too, when she gets here."

"Good luck collecting that," joked Lorraine. "She still thinks you're up to no good."

"Not anymore," he thought, recalling the special visit he made to her for her blessing.

Offering his help in the kitchen, he was soon chopping vegetables up for snacking on, as they were hosting several close friends on this Christmas Eve. While he did that Lorraine arranged cheeses and sliced meats on some platters along with crackers. It was easy to assemble and didn't require any time over a stove. With everyone ready, they both changed into something suitable for a family and friends Christmas.

The gathering was enjoyed by everyone present as Christmas songs played in the background, the kids played video and board games while the adults talked of many happy things. When it got close to Larissa's bedtime, Bucky called for everyone's attention.

"Before our little princess heads up to bed, I promised that she and her brother could give their mother a present." He pulled their special present out, handing it to Larissa to give to her mother.

"We made it together," announced Liam, as his mother unwrapped the box, then took out a framed handmade sign that puzzled her at first.

"What does "Say yes!" mean?" she asked, confused. "Is this about getting a puppy?"

"No, Mommy," laughed Larissa, then she reached under the tree for Bucky's present, and pulled him by the hand towards Lorraine. "Go ahead, ask her."

Several of the others gasped audibly, guessing what was happening. Bucky went down on one knee, then showed Lorraine the wrapped second box, holding it in front of her.

"Over a year ago, I met a wonderful lady, her son, and her daughter, on probably the worst day of their lives, but it was the beginning of something wonderful. I found someone that needed what I was ready to give, my love and my commitment. Lorraine, I can't imagine a life without you, Liam, and Larissa. Would you do me the honour of marrying me, becoming my wife, and allowing me to be a father to these incredible children?"

He handed her the box, then watched as she unwrapped it, opened it, and revealed a beautiful solitaire diamond engagement ring. With her lips trembling and her eyes glistening, Lorraine took the ring, placed it on her left ring finger and began to cry.

"Mommy, say yes," demanded Larissa, making everyone laugh.

"Yes, I'll marry you," she answered.

With a cheer from everyone, and Larissa clapping her hands excitedly, the couple kissed then Bucky pulled both kids in for a hug from him and their mother. As the others gathered around them, wishing them congratulations, Sarah Wilson sat and smiled at the happiness that radiated from Bucky's face, making him look younger than he ever did since she first met him. Sam sat next to her and nudged his sister in the side.

"You called that right," he said. "You knew a year ago it would come to this. How did you know?"

"Because they each found something they needed," she answered. "She found someone who was kind and giving. He found someone who needed him to be there for her. It was as plain as the sun shining in the sky."

"Right," he grinned. "So, you think they were meant to meet?"

She smiled at her brother, squeezing his hand. "If you meet the one you want to spend the rest of your life with then yes, you were meant to meet. You just have to open yourself up to the possibilities, Sam. You know that."

He did know that. Offering his help to Lorraine and her kids had opened Bucky's heart and now the man had a family for Christmas. It couldn't happen to a better person.

Later, after everyone had left, Bucky and Lorraine tucked Larissa into bed, then sat with Liam, as he snuggled down under his covers.

"You were surprised, weren't you Mom?" he asked. "Bucky asked me and Larissa first, then Grandma next, if he could marry you."

"You did a good job keeping that secret," she answered. "I was very surprised and I'm going to put your picture up where everyone can see it."

He grinned, then he looked at the super soldier. "Can I call you Dad?"

"If you want, I would be honoured. Liam, I want to adopt you and Larissa. Are you okay with being my son and taking my name?"

The boy nodded his head enthusiastically. "Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight, Dad."

They both kissed him on the forehead, returning the words. As the couple bustled around, cleaning up the last few things from the party, Bucky looked above Lorraine's head, noticing the mistletoe. He stopped her, taking some dishes from her hands and placing them on a counter. She looked up at him, her face glowing with the love she felt for this man who became so important to her and the kids in the past year.

"Final instalment?" she asked, looking at the mistletoe above his head.

"Nope." He shook his head. "That's a lifetime tax, payable on demand."

They chuckled, then kissed, sweetly at first then with more passion and intensity.

"With kisses like that we'll end up with another child very quickly," she murmured.

"If you want," he answered softly. "Do you know when I first envisioned having you and the kids as my family?" He breathed out noticeably. "It was the night Liam called about your ex showing up. I felt such a panic that I wasn't there. I wanted to protect you all from ever being in that position again. By the time we went to the Christmas party I wished for you and the kids to be my family some day." He caressed her hair. "Even though we started living together two months ago, today you gave me the best Christmas gift ever."

Lorraine's eyes were glassy as she listened. She placed her head on his chest while she hugged him, still not believing that this man was hers.

"I wished for the same thing," she whispered, before looking up at him. "You were kind to us from that first moment in the grocery store and it was something that had been missing from our lives. Thank you for being there when I needed someone like you the most."

"Always."

They kissed again, turned off the lights, and headed up to bed, where Lorraine's comment about the quality of Bucky's kisses proved prophetic. By the following Christmas, there was another stocking hung up on the fireplace but that is a story for another time. Needless to say, they both got their Christmas wish and more.

One Shots Masterlist

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[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 7129

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, mental illness, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

12. Pôt de crème

Mary

That day really winds up feeling like the epitome of a terrible horrible, no good, very bad fucking day for Mary, and it starts early. Leaving the apartment for work after the massage cocktease from Hell is odd.

She’s left feeling happy to have helped, but also hurt, disappointed, and mad at herself, of all things. That was the perfect opportunity for her to make a move and finally force those two to tell her that they’re not interested! (Though a small and pitifully thirsty part of her brain still exists in the fantasy land where they’d take her up on it.) But she’d chickened out and kept it strictly platonic. Ugh. Lame.

She manages not to think about it for a while, as she gets into the rhythm of her day at the bakery. She still can’t shake the cloud of anxiety and irritability looming over her, though. The good old days of any lasting effects from Bucky’s drops are gone, and instead she’s left to slowly percolate a bad mood as she clocks in and figures out the best order to get her projects done for that day.

Dennis is the manager on schedule, which sucks because Mary’s never liked him, but he’s in the office for the most part, since he’s a stuck up do-nothing, and she's able to pretend that she’s alone. 

No matter though. She can’t focus on anything, feels overly emotional, and almost breaks out in tears when she drops a tray of cupcakes on the floor. She manages to hold it together as she cleans up the mess, and moves onto the next task. Her list for the day now feels miserably long, and she doesn’t even enjoy decorating the base-iced babycakes that are waiting for her from yesterday. She fucks up the writing on one of them and loses her shit over something that is not worth losing her shit over. That’s the stupid thing that finally pushes her to tears, and she tosses her piping bag angrily onto the counter, what the fucking herself and feeling like she’s going crazy. 

Like baseball, there’s no crying in kitchens: That’s what the walk-in’s for. So, she hides back by the dairy products until she’s able to pull herself together. She comes out shivering, not crying, and in a horrible mood. 

Buttercream is next, so she gets the sugar boiling and the egg whites whisking in the forty quart. She tries to talk herself up in her head as she goes through motions of streaming in the sugar and then scaling the butter she’ll add to it once it’s whipped cool. “You’re not bad at your job,” she mumbles to herself, trying to push the threat of tears away with positive thoughts. “You’re not.”

Jesus fuck, why is she feeling like this? Nothing that bad has even happened! So she dropped some fucking cupcakes, so what? It happens. She checks her phone to see if she’s about to get her period, but that’s not it. Her focus is shit, so of course she eventually goes back to thinking about Bucky and Steve. 

Today is Bucky’s day off. Mary thinks about him being in pain that morning and how his movements had been crippled by pain. … She thinks about his broad, muscled back under her hands, his warm skin, the moans of relief he’d given whenever she worked out a knot. Poor guy. Even though she hates to think of enduring it again, she has to admit to herself that she does care about Bucky, and she would endure it if he needed her help. Hell, if it’s something that’ll help him in the long run, she’ll have to do at least one or two more massage sessions to teach Steve the ropes so he can help his husband in her absence.

Bucky doesn’t want her to do it. She pouts about that, but scolds herself as soon as she realizes she’s doing so. Don’t be lame over guys who don’t want you. So Bucky and Steve just want to be gay together in peace, so what? Why is she losing her shit over the tiniest rejection like this?!

She ruminates on it while she’s at the stove stirring a massive batch of pôt de crème custard, and it occurs to her that the part she’s actually most upset about isn’t their platonic feelings for her: it’s her own lack of bravery and straightforwardness with Bucky and Steve, and how she’s become such a pathetic wallflower over the past few months. 

Maybe if she’d flat out asked about a romantic relationship from the beginning, she could’ve gotten the rejection out of the way and been putting herself out there to meet someone new by now. She might’ve met a Dom at one of the Center’s socials, or at least could’ve been swiping the apps and going on dates. Getting laid.

But instead suddenly she’s turned into a shy girl (obnoxious). She hasn’t been a virgin since college, and it wasn’t like she wasn’t sleeping with whoever she could get her hands on, back before Steve and Bucky 'adopted' her. She’d been so good at it back then, saying what she meant and going for what she wanted, dragging at least one new guy back to her place to fuck every other week. Why can’t she just do something now? 

Frowning, she decides that she will do something over it. The ideal would be to move back to her own place, but she can’t with the custody order in place and Dr. Linda on Bucky’s side. Gritting her teeth, she figures she’ll do the next best thing: she’ll start getting laid again. She’ll go out and meet people. She’ll go out straight after work each day. Unless he wants to physically tie her up and keep her prisoner in the apartment, Bucky can’t stop it. 

She’s just got to work up the nerve to break his rules like that. Nerve which, in her current mood, seems quite out of reach. She sighs and reaches up to grab the Grand Marnier off the shelf for the pôt de crème. All she feels like doing now is going back to the apartment and crawling into bed, to be honest. She wonders if this is what actual clinical depression feels like. Maybe. Maybe worse. Sarcastically, she thinks that a shot or three of alcohol would certainly help, and then she pauses with her hand on the bottle as she’s about to pour it into the custard. Oh. 

She’s not drinking anymore. 

Fuck. That’s it. She’s hardly ever had sex sober in her life. Barely ever even flirted without some liquid courage in her system. That’s what’s changed. She always used pick up guys in bars, or at other places where everybody had a drink in their hand. And at home at her apartment, whenever the creeping buildup of anxiety and irritability would get to be too much, a couple vodka sprites were what made her feel better. She pauses in her stirring. Thinking about it now is making her almost physically yearn for a stiff one. 

She looks down at the bottle in her hand, shame coloring her cheeks as soon as she has the thought. Even at her worst, Mary never drank on the job. She grimaces at herself and hurriedly sets the bottle back on the shelf before temptation can win out, then turns back to the stove.

“Fuck!” she hisses, scrambling to turn off the burner when she’s met with the sight of lumpy pôt de crème. She whisks it frantically to try and stop it, but it’s too far gone: The eggs in the custard have curdled. She throws her head back and groans. “God dammit!”

She makes a last ditch effort to save it by dumping the lumpy custard into a Cambro, tossing in a few ice cubes, and furiously burr-mixing it with the immersion blender, but it’s no use. She’s irrevocably ruined a massive batch of dessert (with the expensive liqueur already added in it, to boot) because she wasn’t paying attention. Growling, she dumps it all in the trash bin before Dennis can happen to walk by and see, then stomps back to the fridge to grab ingredients to rescale the recipe.

She lines up sheet trays of paper dessert cups on her workstation table for decanting … and takes one cup with her over to the stove while she stands there and cooks the second batch of pôt de crème.

It’s when she’s stirring and pouring that second measure of liqueur into the pot that she gives into impulse and pours a shot’s worth of the stuff into the extra paper baking cup—that she now realizes she brought over for this express purpose in the first place. She gives the empty kitchen a furtive glance, and tosses it back. “Ugh.” 

Orange flavored liqueur? Really Mary?

She hears the rebuke in Bucky’s voice in her head, which is annoying and drives her to repeat the action once she’s drank the first. She tosses back a second. Gross gross gross. She checks the label on the bottle: 40% ABV. Good. She puts the bottle back on the shelf, pissed about feeling so uncomfortable in her skin that she stubbornly refuses to feel guilty over her actions, and finishes cooking the custard to a smooth nappé this time. Perfect. 

She pours the custard over the white chocolate and lets it melt. She burr mixes it, strains it. Ready to go.

Later maybe she’ll feel bad about it, but as she grabs the sauce gun and begins the tedious process of dispensing the pôt de crème into the cups, that warm, pleasant feeling of a buzz starts to creep up on her, and she finds herself in a better mood before long. Things seem brighter, and she finally feels like she can breathe. She’s able to think about Bucky and Steve without feeling like a piece of dirt, and even laughs about the stupid massage episode. Two shots of liqueur on an empty stomach makes that seem like not such a big deal, and she simply decides that she won’t volunteer for massage duty anymore, because obviously it was a mistake. She’d liked helping Bucky to feel better when he was hurting, but not enough to make up for having to endure the very non-platonic swooping in her belly she’d gotten from having her hands all over his naked back. Fuck, is he ever hot. Both of them are. They’re bodies are just, guh. 

She doesn’t need that frustration in her life.

She’s got a moderate buzz by the time she finishes her next project, and she cheerfully bops onto her next task. 

It’s such a relief, not having that heavy feeling of anxiousness and general uncomfortability weighing down on her. Jeez, she hadn’t even realized how bad it had gotten. She forgot how much a few drinks helped. She gets giddy and chases that feeling, quickly sneaking another quick shot (this time of the rum they use on the rum buns, though, because it really was gross that she drank that liqueur straight—blecgh). What’s one more quick drink in between batches of cakes going in and out of the oven, after all?

… And then just once more, after she’s added the last chunk of the butter into the whipping forty quart. By the time she’s got everything set out to basic-build the next bunch of babycakes, she’s in a great mood. It’s almost as good as the subspace had been, back in the beginning with Bucky. She hums songs under her breath and moves around the kitchen assembling and icing the cute little five inch cakes that are her specialty.

It’s her pet project, something she’d suggested to Mr. Flaherty, the bakery’s owner. Not only are they friggin’ adorable, they’re easy to bang out a bunch of them all at once, small enough to cost pennies to make, and big enough and cute enough that people are willing to pay way more than the cakes are actually worth. Mary knows for a fact that they have the highest profit margin of any item in the bakery. She’s privately very proud that Mr. Flaherty had listened to her idea and decided it was something they would offer on the regular menu. Dennis had underplayed it—like the jealous killjoy he is. 

Mary celebrates her good mood with another teeny sip of booze and then spends extra effort on smooth-icing in all the best pastel colors, thinking that today is a great day and can only get better from here.

Wrongo bongo.

“What the heck!”

“Oh, shit,” Mary hisses, running into the back when she smells burning bread and hears her manager’s voice calling out. Sure enough, Dennis is there, oven mitts in hand, angrily sliding a tray of blackened croissants onto the speed rack, and going back to the oven to pull out another. There are six trays of ruined croissants, and Mary grimaces “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”

Dennis ignores her until he’s finished pulling out all the wasted product, and when he’s done, he lays her out. “This isn’t fucking Panera Bread,” he tells her angrily. “We’re a mom and pop bakery. Profit margins are slimmer than slim!”

Mary cringes. “I know, I know, I’m sor—”

“How much money did you just cost us?” Dennis demands, hands on his hips. “Huh? Tell me. I want you to stand there and think about it and tell me how much.”

Mary stares for a second, then realizes that he’s dead serious. Humiliated, she licks her lips and does the math: 6 trays of 10 = 60 croissants, 60 x $4 per ganache-stuffed croissant, minus about $30 ingredients cost. It takes her longer than it normally would, since she’s been drinking, but when she’s worked it out she winces and looks down in shame. “I dunno … A little over two hundred, I guess.”

Dennis flails his hand holding the oven mitts. “We can’t afford to have you ruining hundreds of dollars of profit, Mary. Get it together.”

She frowns, indignant. “I was up front helping a customer,” she defends. 

“That’s what the oven timer is for.”

“I know that. I just forgot to—”

“You’re forgetting a lot of things lately.” He gestures angrily at the trays of blackened croissants. “I’ve tried to help you. I gave you time off to get your shit together when your boyfriend came in and told me about your mental condition.”

Mary grits her teeth. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Dom, dungeon master, whatever,” he says nastily. “I don’t know what you people get up to. But I’ve given you a lot of chances cause you’re apparently dealing with some shit. I can’t keep doing that forever if you keep costing this place money.”

Mary glares and steps up closer, getting in his face. “Maybe if you actually hired someone for front of house on Tuesdays, then I could actually focus back here!”

Dennis’ expression changes suddenly. He narrows his eyes at her and leans in closer. “What’s that?” he says, deathly quiet.

Mary huffs. “I said, you need to hire more—”

“You smell like alcohol.”

Everything comes to a stop as his words hit her like a bucket of ice water. Oh, fuck. She takes a step back, shaking her head. “What?” She scowls like that’s absurd, about to say something to deny it, but the words die on her lips when she sees the way Dennis is looking at her. He knows. Mary feels sick.

Dennis’ expression darkens further. “Are you drinking on the job, Mary?”

“No!” (what’s she supposed to do, tell the truth?)

“I don’t believe you.” He squares his jaw. “I’m calling Mr. Flaherty in.”

“What?!” 

“Two hundred dollars of wasted product? Drinking on the job?” He’s already walking over to the wall phone and picking it up. When he looks back in Mary’s direction, there’s a gleam in his eyes. Fucker never did like her. “I told him I thought you had a drinking problem, and now I have proof.”

“You don’t have shit!” Mary cries. She’s actually panicking though, as she watches him dial the number to call the bakery’s owner. 

“I have the security cameras,” he says, looking vindictively pleased. “We’ll check them. You’re gonna be out of a job.” 

Mary stands there and watches in horrified disbelief as Dennis calls Mr. Flaherty and tells him that he needs to have a word with him in person that afternoon about “something serious.” He doesn’t give details, and when the call ends and he hangs up the phone, he shoots Mary a smug look. “I’ll work the register so that you can finish your shift back here and not make any more stupid mistakes.” 

Mary scoffs, panicked and angry and sick to her stomach with what’s happening. “No way! Forget it!” She hurries to untie her apron and yank it off. “I’m not gonna stick around here for you to lie and get me fired. I quit!” She tosses the apron to the floor and stalks back to grab her purse from the office, too panicked to think straight. She cannot stay there and see poor old Mr. Flaherty watch video evidence of her drinking on the job. He’s always been so nice to her, and now she’s betrayed him and fucked everything up. She’s just ruined the only job she’s ever liked. 

Dennis is getting less and less angry and more gleeful about it. “Bye bye, Hot-Mess Mary,” he sneers. “Don’t bother coming back. We’ll mail you your last paycheck. Have a nice life.”

“Fuck you, Dennis!” she yells, though her voice comes out choked with emotion. She shoulders her purse and whirls around before there’s any chance of him seeing her tearing up. She hurries for the back door that leads out to the alleyway. It's heavy and metal, and she shoulders it open with a grunt, stepping out. “Jealous prick,” she says, only to hear him laugh meanly and call out from inside,

“Jealous? Of you? An alcoholic pervert?”

The heavy back door slams shut before she can answer, and there’s no handle on the outside. It takes approximately two point five seconds for her to burst out crying.

Steve

“Fuck, Honey, ugh.”

Steve digs his fingers into the meat of Bucky’s ass and shuffles closer on his knees. On the couch (whose cushions have since been put back into place), Bucky parts his legs even farther and Steve takes him in deeper. His other hand keeps nudging the toy that’s buried in his husband’s ass—the glass p-spot toy, because unlike Steve, Bucky loves firmness but hates vibrations up there. Steve’s been gently fucking him with it, nudging it against his prostate again and again, having found the perfect angle. Every grunt and moan that he gets out of Bucky has his own cock throbbing in his underwear, but he isn’t touching himself, is devoting every ounce of his attention to resolving the “problem” that Mary’s massage left Bucky with. 

“You know,” Bucky says, voice a little breathy as he speaks between groans. “I’m never gonna—nnh. Never gonna look at this couch again without thinking of her oily hands sliding all over my back."

Steve hums in agreement, the sound reverberating around Bucky’s cock and pulling another hiss from him. Steve pops off to glance upwards. “Me too,” he says, and they share a look of heated yearning, before he shakes it off and sinks his mouth back down on Bucky’s throbbing length.

He’s been dragging it out, having fun with it. But now it’s gotten sloppy and wet, and Steve’s jaw aches, and he really wants to make Bucky come so he can finally get a hand around himself. He hums around Bucky’s cock once more while he still can, then takes him all the way to the hilt, nose pressing into his pubes and throat spasming around the head.

“Oh! shit …” Bucky’s fingers dig sharply into Steve's scalp. His hips stutter up of their own accord, making Steve choke a little, but he soldiers on. Bucky makes a helpless little sound that is very close to a whimper, and which has Steve’s belly pulling tight with arousal. “Close, Baby. So close, fuck …”

Steve purposefully chokes himself, letting it hit the back of his throat again and again, swallowing compulsively. It gets him what he wants, which is for this blowjob to be over.

Above him, Bucky slumps further on the cushions and groans long and low, the tortured moan letting Steve know that he’s cresting that edge. He pulls back to suck hard on the head, abandoning the toy to the clenching of Bucky's ass so he can stroke him through it. He hums happily when he feels the pulse of Bucky’s cock on his tongue, the hot spurts of cum, the clenching of thighs muscle beneath his hands. Fuck, it’s sexy. 

Having been with the man for so long, Steve knows exactly when to ease off. He gentles his touch and stops sucking. He waits with Bucky’s softening cock in his mouth, not pulling off until the hands that were gripping him desperately a moment ago smooth gently through his hair in gratitude. Steve pulls off, keeps his mouth closed, doesn’t swallow. Bucky’s flushed and wet cock falls onto his belly, gorgeously swollen and spent. Steve’s staring at it covetously when Bucky gives a long, shaky exhale from above, tapering off in a satisfied groan. “Stevie,” he sighs happily. “Mmhh. Fuck. C’mere.” 

He pulls Steve up onto the couch, not satisfied until he’s got him in his lap. Steve straddles him and smiles with his mouth still closed. “Good boy,” Bucky whispers, reaching up to gently cup the front of his neck. His eyes are heavy lidded but still heated as he strokes his thumb over Steve’s windpipe. He loves to watch Steve swallow his cum, and that’s why Steve hasn’t yet, is waiting for his signal. He’s very good at making a show of it: dragging it out, eye contact, showing the load on his tongue if Bucky wants, swallowing slowly and obviously; really turning it into an act of obedience for his husband.

He’s surprised when Bucky doesn’t tell him to swallow. “Hold it,” he says instead, confusing Steve. Bucky grins devilishly and reaches down between their bodies. He returns with the glass toy in hand and holds it up. “Get it wet," he purrs.

And Steve’s entire body goes stiff as he re-remembers that he’s married to the filthiest man on the fucking planet.

Steve must be filthy too, though, because a massive wave of arousal sweeps through him as Bucky holds up the toy with a dirty smirk and commands him to wet it up—with his own cum. Steve almost feels lightheaded from how all the blood rushes to his cock and away from his brain. He groans through his mouthful of cum, and Bucky’s lips curl. “You heard me. Do it.”

He looks down and aims, letting his mouthful of cum slide out onto the tip of the glass toy that was buried in Bucky’s ass not ten seconds ago. It’s obscene, filthy, and that only makes his belly swirl that much harder as Bucky uses his flesh fingertips to spread the cum around lazily, coating the clear glass with his own sticky cum. “Good,” he praises, still smirking at Steve through half lidded eyes. “Now, put it in.” 

Steve groans and takes the toy from him. They haven’t done prep, but it’s a small, slim toy, and he knows it’ll slide in easily with the help of his husband’s own jizz slicking the way. Jesus Christ. He starts to move, intending to take his underwear off, but Bucky stops him with an amused shake of the head.

“Uh uh. Just pull ‘em aside and put it in. Keep your briefs on.”

“Fuck.” He listens, reaching back to pull his underwear to the side and press the head of the toy to his rim. He works it inside, eyelids fluttering when it pops past the muscle and glides in smoothly. “Oh,” he sighs, letting his underwear snap back and shifting his hips to feel the stretch against his rim, the heavy curve of it settling into place against his prostate. “Fuck.” He starts rocking his hips in tiny motions to work it inside him, barely-there sounds of pleasure escaping him each time it does. “Ooh, Buck,” he breathes. He doesn’t realize his eyes have closed until Bucky startles him with a kiss, growling and tugging him in close by the back of the neck. “Mmph!”

Their lips clash in a harsh, demanding kiss, Bucky taking possession of it and gripping the back of his neck hard to keep him still. Steve pants and whines and takes it, hips juddering forward to grind his aching dick against Bucky’s stomach. Each dominating swipe of Bucky’s tongue into his mouth makes him ache for more. “Buck,” he pants, right against Bucky's lips, where he's shamelessly kissing his messy mouth. “Baby, oh, please?”

“Yeah?” His hand cups Steve from over his underwear, squeezing the line of his erection. “You’re so fucking amazing, you know that?” he husks, dipping under the waistband to curl his fingers around him. “Make me feel so good, fuck, I love you.”

Steve moans and rests his forehead on Bucky's naked shoulder, looking down to watch. He whines when he sees that it’s the metal hand—which he already knew by feel, but the sight of it is a whole other level of hot. Steve thinks of it like a knife kink, or a gun kink: seeing something so steely and dangerous that close to him, wrapped around and working him, giving him pleasure. The sight of all that black and gold metal on his cock makes his belly clamp down hard in need. “Oh fuck, ” he breathes. “Oh. Fuck.”

“Yeah, Sweetheart.” Bucky kisses his ear and breathes hotly against him as he pumps and twists his hand, going tight just the way Steve likes. It’s messy from the precum that Steve’s dick keeps blurting out, and he whimpers at the soft, wet sounds it begins making. “I know,” Bucky whispers. “You get so worked up. I love that. Big fat cock n’ balls, but you wet up for me just like a girl, dontcha' Sweetheart? Bet you started right down there on your knees, too. Hard and leaking just from sucking me off, making a mess in your panties.” Steve groans in embarrassment and Bucky snickers. “Aw, don’t try to deny it. I saw that boner when you crawled on up here. Saw the wet spot on those tighty-whities, too.” Playfully, he snaps the elastic band of Steve’s underwear against his hip. “You get off on it. Pretty little cocksucker.”

Steve humps into his fist, which between how slick it is and how tightly Bucky’s gripping him, feels fucking amazing. “Nnuhh,” he moans, “I get off on you. You were so—fuck, mmph—so hard when she left. I f-felt bad for you.”

Bucky growls and strokes faster. “Don’t be patronizing, baby. I saw the state she left you in. At least I had the excuse of getting rubbed down.” He snickers lowly and presses another kiss to Steve's ear. “She wasn’t even touching you.”

“Fuck,” Steve says tightly, as he recalls the image of Mary sitting on the bed with Bucky, rubbing his naked back with her oiled hands—Her tiny oiled hands, that would look so good on their cocks. Fuck, he’s going to come embarrassingly fast. He pants, trying to get words out. “I—nuhh, oh. I wanted to—mmm …”

Bucky bites his earlobe. “Wanted to what? Tell me.”

“Wanted to watch her give you a happy ending,” he grunts. “Tell you to turn over n’ watch her jerk you off.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky asks, voice dark and interested. “Mm. You miss women.” Steve whines and nods in lieu of an answer. “Well maybe we’ll get a third sometime. A special treat. Only this time we'll get a girl, take turns fucking her. Maybe I’ll even have her fuck you with a strap-on.” Steve moans and kisses him dirtily, and Bucky reciprocates, hand leaving Steve’s cock so he can hold his jaw with both hands. 

Steve whimpers and his hips keep moving, chasing the friction that isn’t there anymore. “Buck,” he breaks off from the kiss to beg. “Please. Please. I need to cum.”

Bucky smiles and takes pity on him, but he switches up his hands, using the flesh one on Steve’s cock so that he can squeeze even more, really wringing up hard and thumbing under the head on every stroke. Steve sobs and sits back, bracing on Bucky’s shoulders and watching himself fuck into clench of his fist. “Yeah,” he moans. “Oh, God. Fuck yeah, just like that.”

“How’s that toy feel?” Bucky reaches his other hand underneath and taps against the glass toy’s base a few times— ‘tap, tap, tap,’ —humming in satisfaction when Steve cries out and ruts desperately into his fist. “Ooh,” he goads. “It feels that good, huh?” Tap, tap, tap. “It that gonna make you cum?”

“Nnnh.” Steve nods tightly, hips working hard. “Yeah, oh. Yeah. M’gonna. Ohgn…”” 

His balls draw up tight and his cock jerks when Bucky takes hold of the toy’s base and starts slowly pulling it out. That feeling against his rim is what does it, pushing him over the edge and making the pleasure coalesce and snap.

He cries out sharply as he shoots, his body straining and hips pulsing, ribbons of white cum striping over Bucky’s naked stomach, one after another.

“Fuck, Honey. So beautiful. Fuck that’s a lot. Fuck. Lookit’ you, big boy.”

His cooing praise drags it out longer, and by the time Steve’s dick is spent and softening again, he’s collapsed forward against Bucky, mess of cum between them be damned. He rests his head on his shoulder and hugs him while he recovers. “Fuck,”  pants, closing his eyes and enjoying the sheer relief of it all. “That was good. I needed that.”

Bucky hums and rubs his back. “Me too.”

When they finally peel themselves off each other, they’re faced with two wet, spent dicks, and the mess of cum that did not magically disappear just because Steve wanted it to. He sighs and climbs off the couch.

“Shower,” Bucky decides, and goes into the bathroom with Steve following behind. He starts the water running and shucks his joggers that he'd only just pulled back up. “Feel like we were just doin’ this,” he complains.

“That’s cause we were.” Steve pads over and stands against him, leaning in, chest to chest.

Bucky leans against the wall and wraps his arms around Steve’s lower back while they wait for the water to warm up. “Do you really want a threesome?” he asks. “Like we used to do?" 

Steve sighs and presses his forehead into Bucky’s chest. His first inclination is to say yes. They used to sleep with men, have threesomes a few times a year, for fun. They’d only stopped because they’d mutually fallen into contentment with married life. But Steve realizes it’s the way Bucky’s framed it: does he want to have threesomes again. With a girl. And the answer is no. Steve doesn’t want to have 'a threesome' anymore, with 'a girl', or 'a guy'. He doesn’t want anything casual. He says as much, and groans into Bucky’s skin. “I just want her,” he says. “I want it to be serious, and I want it with her.”

Bucky strokes his back, not saying anything for a long minute. “Yeah,” he eventually agrees. “Me too.” 

Steve makes a mournful sound in his throat. “Can’t we try? Maybe ask her out on a date? She might come around if she doesn’t feel like we’re just trying to jump her bones straight away, y’know? We’ve never really had that time with her. It went straight from ‘how do you do’ to moving her in here with us.” Bucky’s chest rises and falls with a deep inhale, and his hands have stopped moving on Steve’s back, which is how Steve knows he's really thinking about it. “Buck?” he tries. “C’mon. Let’s just give it a shot. Linda said she needs sex anyways, and I know you don’t like the idea of her with another man.”

Against him, bucky growls grumpily.

“Just one more try,” Steve pleads. “Let’s just tell her upfront we have feelings for her and that we’d like to court her.”

Bucky snorts. "'Court’?”

Steve whaps him and pulls his head back. “You know what I mean. Nice stuff. Take her out, buy her flowers.” 

“I know what you mean.”

They stare in each other's eyes as Steve reaches over to feel the shower water. It's warm. “It’ll be her choice," he says. "We won’t be bossy.”

“Kind of hard not to be bossy when she thrives on that.”

Steve gives him a look. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” Bucky sighs. “Yeah I know what you mean.” He pulls the curtain and goes to step into the shower, but Steve stops him from behind with a hand on his arm—his left one. “And this,” he says, looking at him with authority. “Let me take this off. And you keep it it off around the house like you used to do.” He watches the brief reluctance that plays out on Bucky’s face, but is relieved when his husband doesn’t turn it into a fight. “Thank you, babe,” he says, taking the arm off and setting it out on their bed before returning to the bathroom. Bucky’s in the shower, so he steps in and stands with him under the spray. He wraps his arms around Bucky from behind, letting his left hand drag up over his stomach and chest, up to the anchor site where it meets his pec. “You can be a good Dom without it, you know,” he murmurs. 

“... I know. It was silly.”

He kisses Bucky’s shoulder. “Not silly. I love you.” In his arms, Bucky’s body bleeds all its tension and he lets a little bit of his weight come back through Steve, who kisses his neck again. “Tonight?” he asks, knowing that Bucky will know what he means. 

Bucky nods. “Tonight.”

Bucky

“A bar?!”

"Yeah. Leave me alone."

Bucky stares helplessly as Mary kicks off her shoes and walks (stumbles, is more like it) through the apartment and back towards her bedroom. The conversation they've just had was short and completely non-productive, other than that it's got Bucky feeling like he's on the verge of blowing up. “Mare, stop! Come back here.”

She throws him the finger over her shoulder and pushes into her bedroom, shutting the door harshly behind her. Bucky growls and starts for the hallway, but Steve stops him with a hand to his shoulder, pulling him back. “Hang on, Babe.”

“She’s drunk!” Bucky hisses, turning furious eyes to Steve. “Been missing for hours and now this?! How did she even get it?”

“I know, I know.”

Bucky snarls, mad at Steve for being so fucking calm. “Did you give her her ID back?!”

“No! Don’t be stupid, babe.”

His eyes cut over, sharp. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Steve looks like he’s trying not to roll his eyes. “She’s thirty Hon. I’m sure there are plenty of bartenders who’d serve her without checking.”

“Well that’s just, just …” Bucky sputters, struggling to find the words. “There have to be consequences!” He starts for the hall again but Steve grabs him and pulls him back and into a restraining hug. Bucky kind of wants to hit him. “Steve!”

“Shh,” Steve says. “Sh sh, just hang on a second. Take a deep breath.” He holds him tightly, rubbing his back and nosing at his neck, and Bucky realizes that Steve is employing some of the things he’s learned at the CDP, trying to calm him down.

He blinks, noticing how hot his face feels, how fast his pulse is thrumming underneath his skin. He exhales shakily, feeling bad. “Fuck. I'm ..."

"Yeah."

"Sorry.” 

“S’okay,” Steve whispers. “Maybe today’s not the best day, after all.”

Bucky’s eyes flick over in the direction of the kitchen table. “Better get rid of those, then,” he grunts, referring to the flowers Steve had picked up at the bodega for Mary.

“I will. And we’ll figure this out, find out what happened, and talk to her another day, okay? We'll get new flowers.” 

“No, not okay,” Bucky insists, his anxiety ratcheting up again as he thinks of the state Mary just came home in. “We need to deal with her.” 

Steve pulls back and meets his eyes, and Bucky feels like an asshole all over again. “What do you need?” Steve asks quietly.

Bucky grits his teeth. To spank the ever loving shit outta that girl, he thinks but doesn’t say. He knows better than that, even on the verge of an episode, he can tell that he’s not being logical. He closes his eyes and tries to take deep breaths, pulls away from Steve because he’s embarrassed. “Nothin’.”

“Hey, it’s okay to need—”

“It’s not,” Bucky snaps, walking over to the couch and dumping himself onto it. He feels kind of sick—likely his blood pressure making him nauseous. “How am I supposed to be a good Dom for her when I can’t even keep myself in check? Christ.” He shoves his face into his hand. “I’m supposed to be better than this.”

Steve takes a minute, and when he approaches Bucky it’s with a gentle, careful expression that Bucky hates. “Babe, you know that makes no sense, right?” Bucky just grunts and Steve says, “That's like a diabetic saying they should have better willpower to control their insulin levels.”

Bucky glares at him for the trite comparison, wants to snap at his husband to stop quoting CDP literature at him. But that’d be nasty, and he bites his tongue. “No,” he grunts.

“You got told by Linda that you’re not giving her enough, not doing enough to meet her needs, and it’s been days since you really went up. You think I can't see that her drops aren't doing it for you now? You're too in tune with her. You both need more. And I should’ve seen this coming.” Steve sinks down to the carpet in front of him and kneels there reaching to rub his palms over the tops of Bucky’s thighs.

Bucky scowls at the gesture. “That’s not your job,” he says. “You shouldn’t have to—”

“I’m your husband,” Steve says, almost authoritatively, even though he’s keeping his voice soft and calm like the Center professionals taught him. “It’s my job to take care of you, always.” He rubs Bucky’s tense muscles from over his jeans. “Babe, c’mon. Let me help you.”

Bucky closes his eyes and counts to twenty. When he opens them again, Steve’s still there, waiting. Bucky reaches out and cups his face.

Steve presses into it. “Sir,” he whispers, eyes lowered.

Bucky feels so guilty at that, even as he can feel his blood pressure lowering from the small display of subservience. “I love you,” he says.

Steve smiles softly and squeezes his hands over Bucky’s knees. “I know.”

Bucky sighs. He releases Steve and slumps back into the couch cushions, feeling like the biggest burden. “I should call and book someone,” he says. Steve’s not a submissive and he shouldn’t have to play that role just to fulfill Bucky’s medical needs. Linda’s helped him come to terms with that over the years. Steve, the self-sacrificing punk, would do it anyway, but Bucky knows when he needs to ask for outside help. “Nathan can usually take me last minute.” Steve nods and stands up, brings Bucky his cellphone to make the call. He sits on the couch with him and pulls Bucky to lie with his head in his lap as he calls the Center and makes an appointment. “Okay,” he says when he’s done, tossing the phone aside. “Six-thirty. He’s coming in after hours just for little old me.”

“Good.”

Bucky’s eyes cut sideways towards the bedroom hallway. Their plans for the night are ruined, and if he didn’t have himself to deal with right now, he’d be hard pressed to keep himself from going in Mary’s room, trying to scold her. “What about her?” he asks glumly.

Steve snorts. “Little miss drunk? She’s probably passed out. Don’t worry about it. Besides,” he runs his fingers through Bucky’s hair.  “Can’t reason with someone when they’re like that. Discussion, punishment, scening? That’ll all have to wait until tomorrow, at least.”

Bucky makes a face and tries not to let his dominance start spiraling out of control again. “She’s going to AA.” Steve hums, and when Bucky looks up and catches his expression, Steve looks like he’s worrying for his safety. “Tomorrow,” he insists, obstinate. “I’ll take the day from work if I have to. Drag her there myself.”

“Maybe no dragging."

"Steve,"

"Linda first,” Steve suggests gently. “That’s a better first step, hm?” Bucky grunts, grumpy about it but knowing Steve’s right. He nods, and Steve runs kind hands through his hair. “Okay, good. That’s settled. Don’t have to think about it any more tonight.” He bends down and pecks a quick kiss to Bucky’s forehead. “So, six-thirty?”

“Mmhm.”

“An hour. … You want to help me get dinner started before you go?”

Bucky nods, turning and pressing his face into Steve’s lower belly, rubbing his cheek against his soft tee shirt and warm body. “Love you,” he mumbles, feeling sheepish from his outburst before. He knows it’s not his fault, but he still feels inordinately grateful to have Steve supporting him. “You ever get tired of all this drama?”

“Shuddup,” Steve chuckles.

“Mm. You should leave me for a normie." He’s got his eyes closed against Steve’s stomach, but feels the reproachful pinch on his neck. “Ow.”

“If I’d wanted a normie, I’d have married a normie,” Steve scolds. He pets over where he pinched. “And apparently I’m a glutton for punishment, cause I’ve got my sights set on another one’a you jerks. This is just a setback. We’ll let her sober up, you’ll go see the Pro, and then when everybody’s in the right frame of mind, we’ll deal with it. Now come on.” He pats Bucky on the back. “Mary's not the only one who can navigate a kitchen. I’ve got a recipe for chicken piccata we can try.”

Bucky sighs. He’s so fucking in love with Steve, and he’s never got any good way to say it. There's nothing. Wedding vows barely scratched the surface. “Okay,” he says, because what else is there to do but agree? Like most times, Bucky knows his more level-headed husband is right about this.

They get up and go into the kitchen to start pulling the ingredients for chicken piccata, and Bucky is able to keep his mouth shut for a full five minutes before his anxiety ratchets back up and he returns to haranguing Steve about confronting Mary—possibly later that night.

*Next chapter starts out IMMEDIATELY with the big confrontation and beginning of their romantic and sexual relationship, so I promise y'all won't have to wait much longer!

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[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Big Sky Eyes*

Chapter Seventeen

Master List |  Bucky Barnes Master List  |  Series Master List

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Cowboy!Bucky Barnes x Disabled!OFC Maybe Cole

A/N: Thank you, Jasmine A, for requesting this chapter! Sorry for how long it took to arrive. Life is crazy this time of year. Enjoy!

Warning: Smut, angst, fluff

**I do not tag. **To be notified of updates and new works, subscribe to me or the story on AO3 for email notification, or follow the library blog @tilltheendwilliwrite-library  with notifications turned on so you’re not missing out. An account is required to access my work on AO3. For more information on how to get your FREE AO3 account, see this post.

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[imwall-e]

Patience

Pairing : Mafia!Bucky x OFC

Summary : Bucky Barnes wants her, and he is ready to wait...

Author's note : Not beta read. Some of the many little stories I have in my head. Maybe a future fic ?

There he was, leaning against his car, waiting for her. Just like every time she finished work. And it was the same in the morning. He waited in the same way, ready to accompany her. And every day she would meet his eyes and decide to take the bus.

But Bucky Barnes was a patient man. And patience always pays off in the end. Like today. It had been a long and complicated day. The buses were full and she didn't have the strenght to stand in the cold until the next one came along.

She'd be lying if she said that he was the only reason. This man looked after her. He gave her the attention she needed. He wanted her. Her and no one else. Something that no-one before him had ever offered her.

As she walked towards him, took his hand, let him kiss it, got into the car with him, she knew she was crossing a point of no return. But she did all this without regret.

[shadowsof-thenight]

Bound for Ruin

Summary: When Jenna meets Bucky it takes her a while to realise they both want very different things. But Bucky is a stubborn man, who rarely hears no and he's not about to take it for an answer now.

Ship: Bucky Barnes x OFC 

Warnings: Angst, sugar baby/daddy dynamics, some toxic attitudes.

Words: 4949 (just under the max amount!)

A/N: It's been a while since I entered Suz' (@targaryenvampireslayer) Blind Date challenge. The quote is bold.

She really put me to the test as the trope she gave me was Sugar daddy and that's far from my usual work. But instead of asking for something more familiar, I liked the idea of stepping out of my comfort zone. This isn't at all like I first imagined though, so I hope you'll like it.

And I apologise for any mistakes. This wasn’t beta’ed. 

She stalked into the club, paying no mind to the bouncers or security. They knew who she was and wouldn’t bar her entry. Her strides were powerful and confident, despite the fact that she’d realised there was no plan upon entering. She hadn’t thought that far ahead at all. She’d simply been too angry to think when she’d left her house, clutching the letter that tipped her over the edge. 

She took a breath as the loud music, the amount of people and the heat washed over her. Jenna never really liked clubs like this, preferring smaller bars where conversation was an option. Alas, this was where she’d find the object of her anger. It was his first business, the place where it all started and he came here every Saturday as it was the busiest day. Jenna looked to her left and saw girls dancing on the various platforms, as they did every weekend. 

She couldn’t suppress a smirk as an idea sparked in her mind. She could’ve sat down at the bar and he would’ve noticed her quick enough, but this might just be better. 

A devilish smile played on her lips as she walked over to one of the higher platforms and climbed up. Stepping on it, she told the girl already dancing to take a small break. The girl looked utterly confused and her eyes sought out the security guard that always stood nearby. He probably signalled for her to agree, because she backed off towards the steps.

“Don’t go far, you’ll have your spot back in no time,” Jenna added with a smirk as she took of her coat and threw it aside. She then looked straight at the camera and flipped it off, before unbuttoning her blouse to show some cleavage. Just enough to get a reaction from the one man she was doing this for.

As expected it only took Bucky mere moments to respond. He was out of his office and making his way towards her, scowling as he did so. Jenna schooled her expression as best she could, feigning innocence as she smiled and waved. She kept dancing, finishing the song that was playing, before signalling the girl to return. 

As she stepped back down, the security guard that had been quietly observing handed her her coat. She thanked him with a wink—knowing it would annoy Bucky further.  That was Bucky’s cue to grab her arm and pull her none-too-gently back to his office that was situated behind the bar. Inside the confines of his office he released her arm with a huff and began pacing the space between her and his desk. Seeing his frustration gave her an odd sense of satisfaction. She saw it as payback for all the trouble he’d caused her these last few months. 

She took a moment to quietly observe him. His handsome face was twisted into a grimace, his blue eyes hard and his beautiful soft lips pressed to a tin line. He really was an impressive specimen, she thought to herself, if only he was less stubborn. 

When Jenna had lost her job four months ago, she hadn’t imagined her life would become entangled with the man before her. Bucky Barnes had been nothing but an enigma to her. One of the most successful men in the city, incredibly private and therefore mysterious. Even though she’d met him several times through her friend Abigail, she never quite got a read on him. She still didn’t feel like she really knew him, but at least she knew which buttons to push for a reaction. 

For years Abigail had had an arrangement with one of Bucky’s best friends, Sam. He treated her like a queen—luxurious gifts, trips, a stellar apartment in their expensive city and a generous allowance. All she had to do was be available to him at all times. Abigail had tried to make the arrangement sound enticing to Jenna. Tried to convince her that this was a great deal, but Jenna care for it. She was ready for something more serious. For love, equality—freedom. The arrangement that Abigail loved so much, felt too limited to Jenna. And constricting. 

When she’d first gone on dates with Bucky, she wasn’t aware that he had expected the same arrangement. He’d buy her drinks, take her to dinner and charmed her better than anyone had ever done before. Jenna was certainly beguiled. Then he had offered to pay her rent and she’d gotten the gist of his intentions. It felt wrong. She had diploma’s, a good resume and interviews lined up—she didn’t need his money. She didn’t want to be a kept woman. Bucky had obviously been disappointed. He’d even offered her a job with one of his companies, but that didn’t seem all too different to Jenna. 

Then one by one her interviews were cancelled. People didn’t want to cross Bucky. They didn’t want to risk doing wrong by her and invoking his wrath. While she couldn’t really blame them—he’d proven himself a ruthless businessman—it still hurt that her abilities no longer mattered now that he was involved. She’d achieved everything before then on merit. She studied hard, worked hard and pushed through when things got tough. Yet none of that carried any weight now. 

Bucky hadn’t been ready to budge–unable to accept that any of her current state was due to his interest. He was enthralled. She was beautiful, smart and headstrong. Her ability to say no to him made her more interesting. He had been convinced that she’d come around to the arrangement he wanted. He was used to getting his way. 

When he discovered her financial strain, he’d imagined himself swooping in like a knight in shining armour, while she simply wanted to be her own saviour. She liked him, but she wanted to be an equal partner, not subservient. The massive mismatch had caused strive. 

He refused to help her get a job and she had fought his desires. But now, without a job and an eviction notice to boot, she was getting desperate. Going into his place of business and antagonising him had been her last attempt to get the upper hand. Just so she wouldn’t feel weak for bending to him. 

“What was that?” He growled. He stood straight, breathing deep in an attempt to curb his anger, but she could see him clenching and unclenching his fists. He was simmering, anger still close to the surface. Funnily enough, she thought he looked rather sexy. 

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” She asked, her tone haughty, the fingers of her right hand playing with her still opened buttons. 

“Are you here to accept my proposal? Or a job?” He asked, stepping close to her. 

“You really haven’t given me much choice,” Jenna exclaimed, pulling the eviction notice from her pocket and pushing it in his hands. Looking it over quickly, he had the good sense to cast his eyes down. 

“This was never my intention,” he said gruffly, taking a step back from her. 

“Then what was? You wanted me at your mercy, did you not?” She asked. “To control everything.” 

“I wanted you to want to be here.” He looked rather defeated as he still stared at the letter in his hands. 

“That doesn’t happen by forcing my hand,” she said, her words icy. She stepped closer to him as she spoke. “You arrogant asshole, why couldn’t you have left me alone?” 

Her words made him snap his eyes back to her. She stood close, perhaps too close she realised as she looked from his eyes to his lips and back. Why was he so hot? 

He closed the gap between them quickly, pressing his lips to hers before anything else could be said. They were soft as they moved against her own. His movements held no urgency as he pulled her close. She pulled back at first, but he moved with her—trapping her against the wall and she sighed into the kiss before returning it. She did like him, regardless of their issues. Not to mention that she was here to accept his conditions finally, to be his sugar baby. At the very least she could enjoy herself. 

Her hands found his shoulders, fingers gently tickling down his arms and he groaned into the kiss. The response intrigued her. If a simple touch could make him increase his eagerness, what else could she do to him? Her hands explored further, heat exploding inside of her as his actions mirrored hers. 

The following hours were spend mapping out what the other liked, wanted and was good at. Jenna wouldn’t call it mind blowing exactly—that was reserved for their first night together months ago—but it was good. Really good.  

“I don’t think control is that bad,” he said as he put his shirt back on, his back turned to her, and she smiled bitterly. How a few simple words could ruin her mood so quickly. She shook her head as she remembered that this was a business deal, even if she couldn’t help but feel like she caught the short end of the stick.

***

Five weeks later 

Jenna pulled away reluctantly. She was tired. She hadn’t had many full nights sleep in weeks. Bucky liked seeing her after work, but insisted on sleeping alone. Leaving her to pack her things and go home every night, while he turned around and slept. During the day, he was a gentleman. He took her on dates, listened to her, asked for her opinions, used her insights to make decisions, made her feel important to him. But at night, he kept her at arms length. Never quite opening up to her. That was until now. 

“Stay,” He whispered. 

She was already dressed, so she knew he’d been debating this. Standing by the door, she looked back in surprise. His arm was tossed over his face, so she couldn’t see his expression. Still his words had shown a kind of vulnerability he hadn’t offered her before. 

She assumed it was to protect himself. Still, this was him trying, wasn’t it? Jenna moved back towards the bed and sat down on the edge, pulling his arm away from his face. 

“You don’t want to sleep alone tonight?” She asked, looking him straight in the eyes. When he tried to look away, she gently took hold of his cheek and held his gaze. “Talk to me,” she added softly. 

“I don’t,” he said. The look in his eyes had never been quite as open as it was now. In all the months they’d known each other, there’d been a mask. One that didn’t falter, even during their arrangement. Not until this moment and her heart warmed at the thought of really moving past his walls. She knew she shouldn’t get her hopes up, shouldn’t read too much into it, but she wanted it so badly. 

Jenna took a deep breath, kicked off her slippers and climbed on top of him, holding him tight. He sighed, pulling the covers over the two of them and melting into the hug. His eyes closed and he fell asleep holding her tight. As his breath slowed, she allowed herself to ponder this change in attitude. He didn’t open up as a rule. She’d realised a while back that it was why he preferred their arrangement over a real relationship.She wondered what changed tonight—apparently he needed more than he’d been asking for and she wanted to give it to him. 

She knew this was a messy situation that would bite her in the ass soon enough, but she couldn’t help herself. She was falling for him, despite his attempts to keep a firm distance. With him now opening up to her even a little, that distance grew smaller.

***

Three months later

“You’re gorgeous,” his lips were close to her ear as he spoke. His warm breath sending shivers down her spine, as his fingers lightly danced over her lower back which was exposed in her dress. 

One thing she’d found in the last few months was that he liked touch. He liked being close, physical, even when it wasn’t sexual. Jenna definitely didn’t mind. Even if it complicated her feelings, she didn’t fight his proximity. Since that night where he’d asked her to stay, she hadn’t spend a single night alone. The distance between them seemed to have evaporated and her heart was ignoring the reality of their situation. 

They walked around the banquet greeting other guests. He was soft, gentle and comfortable and she liked being here with him. He knew how to make her laugh, how to make her swoon and how to make her cry out his name in ecstasy. She wasn’t just getting comfortable, she was falling in love. And it was dangerous. 

With his hand still on her back, he went back to the conversations around them. Business people discussing new plans or boasting about their latest successes. She smiled as she observed him, he was in his element and it looked good on him. Bucky was strong and confident as he explained his own latest venture. He was charming, making sure everyone around him felt seen. And when he smiled, it lit up the room. So she stared, she couldn’t help it. 

“You’re staring,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes. He pulled her even closer. 

“I was admiring the view,” she winked. Bucky smiled and leaned in for a kiss. 

“Thirty more minutes,” He promised with another kiss. 

“I’m okay. It’s a good view.” 

“Idem, but I know a better view,” he said and she didn’t need to guess what he meant as the fingers on her back teasingly dipped beneath the fabric of her dress. 

True to his word, Bucky pulled her from the conversations thirty minutes later. He told the people they’d been speaking too that they had an early start the following morning and it was time to go. She didn’t protest, even though there was nothing that would urge them out of bed the next day. 

His hands were on her sides as soon as they left the large hall. His lips tracing a feather light trail from her ear to her cheek as they waited for their coats. His lips found their way to hers as he first kissed the edges, first left, than right, before he smushed her lips and pushed his tongue inside her mouth. There was an urgency to his kiss, like he needed it. 

When he stopped, he looked deep into her eyes—a hauntingly enthralling look in those dazzling blue orbs of his—and he smiled happily. With a sigh he touched his forehead to hers, keeping eye contact and creating a stillness between them. It felt like he could see into the deepest part of her soul and she felt heat creeping up her neck and cheeks. 

“I want you,” he finally whispered, placing another kiss on her lips, this one more sensual. 

Their coats were brought out then, interrupting them, and they made their way outside where his driver was already waiting for them. Her hand warmly clasped in his as they walked and his lips close to her ear, whispering sweet little nothings. 

Bucky gallantly opened the door for her, before quickly walking around the car to join her on the backseat. Once seated the driver drove off and Bucky turned his attention back on Jenna. It started slowly, one hand trailing up her leg, finding the hem of her dress and then moving past it. His lips found her neck, finding the little pressure points he knew would make her sigh when he kissed them. Her hands made their way to his chest, playing with the lapels of his three-piece suit. Then she placed on hand on the back his neck and playing with the tips of his slicked back hair. 

“I love you,” she spoke the words before she could think. She meant them in that moment, more than she ever had with anyone in the past. But that wasn’t want this was and she quickly pulled back with a gasp. He still held her close, staring at her face while the seductive heat on her skin changed into cold sweat—had she ruined it? 

He cupped her cheek, not saying a word, the look in his eyes unreadable. Then he plunged his lips on hers and kissed her deeply, the urgency to his actions a stark contrast to the languidity of before. When he pulled back, his pupiles were enlarged. Jenna imagined hers were as well. Neither of them seemed to realised that they were still in the car. Not until a small knock alerted them of the driver’s presence. 

They offered apologetic smiles as they got out and quickly moved across the sidewalk and into the apartment building where Bucky lived. Thankfully the lobby was empty at this time of the night and they were able to walk through it and into the elevator without anyone speaking to them. Once in the confined space he pushed her up against the wall, pressing himself against her. She could feel his hard length pressed against her thigh and it ignited a heat in her core that could only be quenched by him. She pulled his face towards hers and hungrily kissed his lips, while his hands freely roamed her body over her dress. 

***

By the time Jenna woke up, Bucky was gone. He was supposed to have a day off, but he was nowhere to be found in the apartment. It wasn’t until she walked into the kitchen for a glass of water, that she saw his note. He’d gone into the office regardless. 

She sighed, they hadn’t spoke about her confession yet and she was eager to know what he thought. How he felt. Eager and scared. So instead of waiting, she looked at the clock and decided to visit him for lunch. No sense in postponing the inevitable.  

“Hey, love,” she said walking into his office after the secretary had let her in. Bucky was on the phone and held up a finger to silence her. She held up the bag of food to tell him what she was doing there and he pointed at the small seating area by the window. He soon ended the phone call and walked over to her. 

“We have to make this quick,” He was brusk. She hadn’t seen him like this before. “I have a meeting soon.” He added as he pulled her into him. “Lets eat then,” she offered, pulling back slightly. 

Bucky ignored her words and kissed her neck while his hands roamed over her body. His movements were rough, rushed and Jenna pushed his hands away. He halted his movements momentarily, looking at her and showing her that the wall they’d been breaking down was back up completely. Instantly she knew her words the night before had scared him off.

“Buck, what’s going on?” She asked, not ready to face her reality. 

“Are you saying no?” He questioned and suddenly she wondered what his intention was. Did he want her to walk away?

“I want to know why you’re acting like this,” she pressed. “This isn’t like you."

“I’m horny, you’re here. That’s how this works,” he stepped back from her, his fingers angrily combing through his hair. He’d been letting it grow out these last few months. She focussed on his movements to ignore the effect his words had had on her. ‘That’s how this works’. She’d thought or hoped that last night had changed things, but it hadn’t. This was still a business arrangement to him. Which wasn’t sufficient for her, not anymore. Her eyes pricked with unshed tears as she really let it sink in. 

He stood in front of the large windows that overlooked the city below, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers. His silhouet in the weak winter sun was beautiful and she wished she could walk up behind him, like she had done many times before in this very room. She wished she could wrap her arms around him, just to feel him close. She wished to see the gentle side of him that he had shown her. Still, she knew better than to set herself up for failure. Fighting the tears that were burning her eyes and throat, she walked around the seating area and grabbed her wintercoat, her trendy tote and walked towards the door. 

“I’m sorry,” she said softly as she looked back at him—part of her hoped that he would stop her, but he didn’t even turn around. Finally she let the tears fall. opened the door and walked out. 

She knew what she had to do, even if it hurt. Jenna knew she could not ignore the situation they were in and she needed to act. She was not some damsel in distress—even if she let him put her in that position for months now. It was time to change that and get back to who she truly was. 

Getting back to the apartment felt heavy. It would be the last time she viewed this space. Walking in she moved quickly, grabbing a trash bag from the cupboard underneath the sink. Moving through the place, she grabbed everything that was hers from before and put it in the bag. Part of her was angry that she’d tossed her old tattered travelbag, even though she knew it had been on his last legs years ago. She could’ve used it now. Instead the trash bag would have to do. She didn’t take anything that he’d given her.

She wasn’t left with much, but she hadn’t entered their arrangement with much either so it seemed only fair. Looking at her cheap wallet, all hers, she took out the money and cards that were his. She only kept a little money to help her move—promising to pay it back as soon as she was able. 

She wrote as much in the note she left him, along with much more mushy comments. She apologised for the destroying their house of cards, for ignoring their initial agreement and trying to make it more than it was. And when she was done, she placed her copies of the keys on the table and left. 

She repeated much of the process at her own place. Thankful that one of her old suitcases had not been thrown out yet. It was old and ugly, but it was all hers. She opened her laptop and devised an email to be let out of her lease and anything else that could keep her in this city. Then she booked a bus ticket for that evening and wrote another letter. A longer one this time, telling him to let her go. She couldn’t remain where her love wasn’t wanted. 

***

Five months later 

It had taken her a some time to find her bearings. A broken heart was tougher than she had imagined it to be. She hadn’t felt the energy to do much of anything. None of the activities that used to bring her joy, felt more like a chore now—shopping, going out with friends, it was all too much. 

Jenna did manage to get herself a proper office job, not unlike the one she had last year. It paid the bills and even restored her savings little by little. After two months she could move out of the motel she’d been staying at and into a small but modern studio apartment. She was lucky that the cost of living was lower in this city. 

Then last week, some of her co-workers even invited her out for after work drinks. She found out that her co-workers were actually pretty fun. So much so, that she was meeting them tonight as well. 

It was Friday evening and in about thirty minutes she would be able to close her computer, freshen up at home and meet them at the diner across from it. Afterwards, her and Stacy were having a drink at a local bar. Stacy had been the one to show her the ropes at work. She was bubbly, eager and fun-loving. She reminded her of Abigail. 

Jenna missed her friends and made a mental note to call them this weekend. When she first left, she’d postponed calling them for a full week. Despite knowing they’d worry. She was crying too much to talk. But, Abigail hadn’t been mad at her sudden disappearance. She also promised not to tell Sam or Bucky where she was. And just to be sure, Jenna hadn’t given her a precise address either. Now, they tried to talk weekly, but they’d missed each other last week. 

In the first few calls, Abigail had kept her informed of Bucky’s movements, but eventually Abigail had realised just how painful it was for Jenna. So she stopped mentioning him. She barely even spoke of Sam and Jenna was grateful for it. 

“Are you ready to go?” Stacy asked, interrupting Jenna’s pondering. 

“Just about,” she said. 

“I have to run to the store quickly, meet you at the diner?” Stacy offered and Jenna nodded in agreement. Turning back to her screen, Jenna quickly saved her work and closed the program. Time for the weekend to begin. 

***

It had taken him quite a few months to finally find her again. When Jenna had gone, she really wiped every trace of herself from him life. She hadn’t taken her phone or the creditcards. She didn’t rent anything in the city, hadn’t applied to any companies as far as he could tell. Finally he had to accept that she left town. That’s when the real work started and he hired a private investigator—telling himself that it was just to ascertain that she was alive and well. Bucky tried to convince himself that all he needed to know, was that she was fine. He told himself that if he found her, he would let it go. 

Instead, this Friday evening, he found himself standing on the street where she lived, watching her greet people in a diner. He realised that she had rebuilt her life, to create it much like the life she’d had before him. A life where he wasn’t footing the bill or having any say. Just as she had wanted from the start. 

He couldn’t even be bitter about the turn of events. He knew he had ruined it himself. She said she loved him and pulled up a wall. It’s what he had always done before. Though he hadn’t quite regretted it as much without anyone else. One month after she had left, Jenny had sent him a check for the money she had taken with her on her hasty departure. The money had been the last thing he wanted. He wanted her back. To tell her that he loved her too, that he’d just been too scared. 

He realised that even in his fear, he managed to make it all about him. Like a spoiled child, used to getting his way. He’d gotten so comfortable in his life. People rarely said no to him. Only Sam and Steve wouldn’t join the yes-sayers. In the last five months he had realised that this wasn’t enough. He needed to have more people opposing him, willing to be honest with him.

As he watched her sitting down in the booth with her friends, he noticed the bright smile on her face. One of the woman had stood to hug her before scooting in to make space in their booth. He couldn’t interrupt now. He wasn’t sure he could interrupt her life at all. 

She deserved to be happy. His heart broke as he stared a little longer, before finally hailing a taxi and leaving. It was time to let her go. 

Except, unbeknownst to him, Jenna had seen him get into the taxi. He didn’t see the mad dash she made from the diner or the single tear that slid down her cheek as she watched him drive away from her. 

It made the surprise that much bigger, when he got a knock on his door one week later. 

“Why didn’t come talk to me?” Jenna asked as soon as he opened the door. He looked a tad confused, so she added; “ I saw you last week.” 

Bucky didn’t know how to respond. He hadn’t expected her to see him, he’d been so careful. And he certainly hadn’t expected her to show up at his door. Jenna didn’t exactly know what she wanted him to say either. She’d gone back and forth all week in her mind, would she go see him? Would she keep her distance? What did she want? Had he changed his mind about what he wanted? 

Eventually Stacy had told her that she would never know, unless she asked him. And living with the doubt could easily become too much. So at the risk of ripping open old wounds, Jenna had books another busticket. This time in the opposite direction. 

“Well, are you going to say anything?” She asked.  

Unable to form any coherent sentence, Bucky did the only thing he could think off. The one thing he truly wanted—he stepped into the hall, his hand cradling her cheek as he leaned in for a kiss. Jenna smiled into the kiss and kissed him back happily. 

“I love you too,” Bucky said as he pulled back for a moment. 

“Well, it’s about time,” Jenna smiled and pulled him in for another kiss. 

[azriona]

Not a Fairy Tale Kiss, Chapter 34

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Avenger!OFC (2nd person POV)

This Chapter word count: 2.1k ~ Total Story count: 144k ~ This chapter is rated Mature. Please note the author will resume posting chapters on January 7.

Summary: When you and Bucky are both accidentally hit with sex pollen while on a mission, you're determined to keep your relationship status at friendship, even if you’d like it to be more. Even if you think he feels the same. Even if you accidentally end up pregnant. Even if it kills you.

(Spoiler Alert: it might actually kill you. Good luck with that.)

Trigger warnings include discussion of abortion, failed pregnancies, deaths of both mom & baby--not the MC! Full warnings on AO3. Happy ending is guaranteed, despite warnings. Please see AO3 for full A/N and tags.

Chapter Summary: In which we go back a few weeks, and hopefully answer a few questions.

The Alarm only goes when it’s the type of emergency that can’t wait for a briefing or planning session. There’s no way to know what you’ll be up against until you’re in the hangar. The moment you step out of the elevator— “Sorry,” says Steve. An apology, sure, but one that’s a bit crisper with his own brand of adrenaline. “Pretty sure this is gonna end up hand-to-hand.” You want to protest, because you and Nat have been working hard on deflecting hits instead of taking them, but instead you nod, because you’d promised. “Got it. What do you need? Comms? Remote hacking?” Steve shakes his head. “Probably not, but check in with Maria.” You nod as Steve goes to board the Quinjet, and there’s a touch on your shoulder. “Hey,” says Nat gently. “Next one.” “Next one,” you agree, and watch the Quinjet take off without you.

Read the rest on AO3.

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

keep quiet

bucky barnes x f!reader prompt: whisper theme: smut (tags beneath the cut)

“We really shouldn’t be doing this, doll,” Bucky whispered in your ear as your lips teased over the side of his neck, his warm breath tickling your ear. “Not here.”

You smiled, leaning up to kiss him again. He met your lips without further protest, his hands on your waist as you slid your own down over his chest. “No one’s going to miss us for a while…”

“And it echoes in here,” Bucky pointed out, casting his eyes towards the high ceiling of the hangar. You were tucked away in a corner of it, hidden by crates and obscured by the planes parked uniformly across its floor.

“I promise I’ll be quiet,” you assured him with a smirk. Your fingers continued down his front to graze your nails over his stomach. They lingered just above his belt buckle, lifting his shirt enough to tease at a sliver of bare skin. It twitched under your touch. “Do you want me to stop?”

Bucky snickered quietly, rolling his eyes as you slipped your hands further up under his shirt. He took hold of your wrists, forcing them gently to your sides. You pouted up at him, and his cool expression remained unchanged as he slowly moved them above your head.

His mouth met yours hungrily, his metal hand pinning your hands as his other slipped down your body. He squeezed your breast possessively, his tongue sliding into your mouth. His hand moved lower, and your breath caught against his mouth as he slipped it over your cunt. Even through your jeans his touch was hot, and you pushed yourself against his hand eagerly.

You rode his fingers, pressed against the wall by his larger frame. Bucky’s lips never left yours, swallowing each muffled sound you made in response to his touch. When your hands tightened on his shoulders and your teeth caught his lip, he pulled away.

You barely had time to protest before he was turning you around and pressing you against the wall. He fell to his knees behind you, his lips pressing a kiss to the small of your back as his hands smoothed up over your thighs and ass. He jerked your pants and underwear down, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan as he buried his face in your cunt.

You reached back to bury your fingers in his hair as he slid his tongue against your clit. He clutched at your thigh, fingers digging into the flesh. Your mouth fell open soundlessly as you forced yourself not to moan, eyes rolling backbehind fluttering lids.

Bucky slid one finger, then another, into you, mouth leaving your clit to give biting, open-mouthed kisses to your thighs, your ass. Your grip tightened on his hair as his fingers quickened, fucking you roughly, curving inside you slightly.

A strangled, breathy moan finally left you, and Bucky stood. His body pressed into your back, his fingers never ceasing as he wrapped his other hand around your mouth. You felt the crushing weight of him holding you against the wall, felt his teeth graze your neck, and you came, the sound muffled by his palm.

tags:  @dragon-chica​ @glossyloner @wittyforachange @wefracturedmotivation @january-echoes @lovely-dreamer19 @capitalnineteen @youclickedthislink  @s0ftness @castieltrash1 @absolutly-me @sara–ravenclaw @startrekkingaroundasgard

[baezen]

01 ⦻ heatblast

pairing: bucky barnes x reader word count: 1790 warnings: 4th wall breaks that would make wade wilson weep, author brain 5 years ago,

summary: in which the lines of reality and fiction have crossed over during the blip

heatblast | omnitrix | wildmutt

“Only use it if there’s no one else around to help.”

Her grandfather’s voice echoed the phrase inside her head, and for years she’d listened to his advice. There had been no one around to help, but even then, she didn’t want to use it. The more she did, the more likely it was that she’d be found by Vilgax, who could sense it’s presence whenever she’d transformed.

She’d been 10 when she discovered the Omnitrix inside a capsule that had crash-landed on Earth. It had stuck itself upon her wrist, and try as she might, she hadn’t been able to take it off.

Her grandfather knew of its power and had wanted to protect her from the alien he knew originally possessed it. He couldn’t explain why it was now on Earth, but after years of making sure it never came back, he was scared Lennox would be caught up in the crossfire. Even with the powers and knowledge that the Omnitrix could give her, Grandpa Max warned her to never use it to fool around. If Vilgax found the Omnitrix on her wrist, he’d kill her to get it back.

The truth had scared Lennox, and so she’d never used it. Never utilised its power unless completely necessary. Until one day she’d tried to use it, something had happened and she’d caused a massive fire in California.

Only she hadn’t been in California. She’d been in Pennsylvania, she’d been about to help someone, and she hadn’t been on fire. Her grandfather had been with her, as well as her cousins, and they were nowhere to be seen.

 The fire in California had made headlines all over the world, especially since she’d been caught on camera. A video of a flying, fiery being was caught leaving the centre of the forest where the fire started had emerged online. Lennox knew after that instance that she could never use the Omnitrix again, no matter how dire the situation was. She couldn’t control who she became, and now she was in an unfamiliar place with no friends or family, and she had to adapt.

She had to make this new place her home. She didn’t stay in one place for too long, or put down roots, because she was still looking for her family. Every time she called their numbers, different people picked up. She’d tried missing posters, or contacting private investigators to try and find them, but there was nothing. There was no one.

And then people started disappearing before her eyes. What was once a person, now reduced to a pile of ash, and the world went dark. She followed leads about what had happened, that a Titan by the name of Thanos had used these stones with magical abilities to get rid of half of all life on Earth. Including the lives of those who tried to stop him, but had ultimately failed.

Lennox was even more lost than she had been, and in the years after Thanos, she attempted to harness the abilities of the Omnitrix. Still too scared to actually use it to her advantage, so she attempted to use the internet to expand her knowledge.

Only when the results came up, the only knowledge of the device on her wrist was from a children’s television show. She searched through the information she found, trying to make sense of how her history had been capitalised and sensationalised. They knew about her cousins, Ben and Gwen, who’d only been babies at the time she’d received the Omnitrix. Her grandfather Max was some clueless idiot, who only revealed tidbits of information as it was necessary.

And Lennox had been completely erased from the narrative.

Somehow she’d entered an alternate reality, and she wondered if that was the reason why her family only existed in a fictional sense on this Earth. Because on her Earth, you couldn’t get from Pennsylvania to California before you could so much as blink. After years of trying to find the truth in both California and Pennsylvania, the only proof she had that her family and the Omnitrix ever existed was from a fucking TV show.

Rightfully so, she was a little pissed.

“Lennox Tennyson?”

Out on a morning walk, the last thing she expected was for a man to appear in a circle of sparkling orange light. Confused, she stepped back. On guard, hands balled into fists by her side.

“How do you know my name?”

“I’m Wong. The Avengers need your help.”

“I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m sorry. I can’t help you,” she apologised.

“Lennox Tennyson, the Omnitrix chose you. You have been given the ability to help mankind, but instead you let your fear rule your life. Right now, the world needs your help.”

He’s a magician. “I’m a sorcerer of the mystic arts,” he tried to explain. Lennox knew the stories. He was a comic book superhero sidekick in her world, and couldn’t understand why he was real in this one. 

Then he did some super saiyan shit and showed her what the fabric of time used to look like before Thanos. She wondered when Vegeta was going to come out and beat his ass.

“I need you to please take this seriously,” he pleaded. “That watch on your wrist could be the key to helping us defeat Thanos.”

“Benedict, is it okay if I call you Bene?”

“It’s Wong.”

“It sure is,” she agreed sarcastically. “I don’t know how I can help you. Anytime the watch is utilized and I harness the power of the Omnitrix, it threatens my life. If Vilgax finds me–”

“Villa who?”

“Vilgax. I guess he’s my Thanos in my world,” she replied. “You and Thanos are comic book characters. And in your world, my cousin Ben was the star of the show explaining this thing.” She waved her arm in the air. “And I got erased from the narrative.”

“It’s like I said,” Wong replied. “When Thanos used the stones before he had them all, the reality and space stones brought you here. I’ve been aware of your presence on Earth for almost five years, Ms. Tennyson.”

“So why now? Why not approach me five years ago before I destroyed half of California?”

“Would you have believed me anymore then, than you do now?”

Lennox paused. “So you want me to, what? Burn Thanos? Join the young Avengers? I’m assuming that’s happening in your timeline soon, right? Yelena Belova, Kate Bishop, Jen Walters, Kamala Khan. Need I say more?”

“Those events haven’t happened yet,” he told her. “We need to defeat Thanos first.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to manage being any kind of help when I time out and turn back into a human after ten minutes,” she pointed out. “I don’t remember how Ben does it in the show, but I need to jailbreak this thing somehow. I need to be able to harness the full power of the Omnitrix. I can’t do that with the kiddy lock still activated.”

It’s a lake house. Wong did his super saiyan shit and now they’re at a lake house.

“And I thought XLR8 was fast,” she commented. “You gotta teach me how to bend like that. Aang said he trained for years.”

“You know the Avatar?”

“Let me guess, Aang’s from another TV show here?”

“One of my favourite Anime’s,” he revealed.

“Typical,” she muttered. “All my friends aren’t real in this world.”

“You might know Denny Phantom,” Wong replied.

“Are you talking about Danny Phantom?”

“She came here around the same time as you. Got blipped when Thanos defeated the Avengers, though.”

“She? My Danny is a guy.”

“She’s badass,” he told her. “C’mon, Stark’s waiting for us.”

“Tony Stark lives at the fucking lake? Next you’re going to be telling me that Hawkeye doesn’t crawl around in air vents.”

“What?”

“Too niche?”

“Wong!” The boisterous voice of Tony Stark rang out. Lennox turned to look at him and was faced with the stark reality that was Iron Man. Hah, get it? Stark?

“Tony,” Wong greeted him. They shook hands briefly before Tony looked past Wong and stared down at Lennox.

“California fire, right? That was you?”

“Well it wasn’t Johnny Storm,” she quipped, and the confusion that flitted across his face made her sigh. “For fucks sake, you’re the Avengers and you don’t even know the Fantastic Four?”

“Not in this world,” Wong stated. “This is Lennox Tennyson. I was hoping you’d be able to help with that watch on her wrist.”

“It’s a watch,” Tony stated. “Just take it off.”

Lennox sighed and twisted the face plate before settling on Heatblast and smashing it down. Soon enough, she was on fire and a six foot alien was standing before Wong and Iron Man. They both looked skittish, but luckily Tony didn’t change into his suit. Still, Wong’s hands were glowing. 

“It’s not just a watch, Stark,” she told him, her voice deeper and more husky. Like she’s eaten a lump of coal. “I can transform into one of ten aliens, this one is Heatblast. The watch times out after ten minutes, so I’m no help to anyone in a fight until I can crack this thing open and change between aliens without maxing out the time.”

“Alien?”

“Probably should’ve warned you that whenever I use the Omnitrix, it sends my location into space. The alien, Villgax, has been trying to track me down for five years for this watch. When Thanos happened, I was in Pennsylvania, with my grandfather, Max, and my cousins, Ben and Gwen. In your world, Ben gets the watch and they learn about the Omnitrix through fighting Villgax’s army. Except it’s a children’s show. This world isn’t the world I’m from, Stark. I need to get back to them.”

“Can you turn back into a human?”

“Not until the ten minutes are up. I need to jailbreak the Omnitrix. I can’t help defeat Thanos and get back to my world to defeat Villgax if I’m a liability ten minutes into a fight. I’m assuming that’s why Wong brought me here? You’ve got a plan to defeat Thanos?”

 Stark and Wong shared a look.

“She can be a great asset to have if you can help her with the Omnitrix,” Wong told him. “There’s thousands of aliens with any number of abilities and powers in that watch.”

“Thousands?”

Wong looked at Lennox. “There’s so much you don’t know,” he told her. “Didn’t you watch the show?”

She shook her head. “I was so pissed that they erased me and Ben got all the glory,” she stated. “How’d they do it? In the show. How’ they harness the rest of the alien catalog?”

[mostlymarvelgirl]

Older [Part 1 of 3]

(James "Bucky" Barnes X OC Irina)

Words: 1.5k

WARNING: 18+, Initial Pedophilic Attraction, Mentions Of Anorexia, Age Gap [Legal], Irina (OC) is 20.

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION.

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.☆.

.☆.

.☆.

5 days.

5 days since Bucky had left Sam's family and bid them goodbye. He was going to miss them. The closure. The warmth. The togetherness.

But now, it was back to square one. No more Sam or S.H.I.E.L.D. or anyone. No more of that damn therapist either. It felt quiet. Again. The routine creeping back to him. Wake up and eat. Walk around and remember what he did. Repent his previous sins by comforting the families that got left behind. And by the time that happened, it was evening and he had his daily drink. But now, the list was over. Nothing to do anymore.

The bar wasn't any upper-class place, but it was alright. Good enough. Not too much attraction or crowd to deal with it. Everybody minding their own business and hanging with their own groups. He guessed the blip was pretty helpful in that way. Everybody got trust issues after it. Nobody wanted to know new people and move along. After all, everyone is a danger. He thought to himself. And also interacting wasn't his strongest suit. He preferred to look. Or as Sam called it "the bionic staring machine" look. He would roll his eyes every time Sam said it.

The beer he had gotten a hour ago had finally become warm. He chuckled to himself quietly wondering how lost he is. The weather was perfect, atleast at the moment. It was warm and chill at the same time. Quite pleasant. Nothing could go wrong.

He would notice a few minors trying to fake their age and fumle to get a drink not knowing it's name. It was nothing new. Nothing surprising. Or special. He saw a few older teens enter. Looking all dressed to blend in like adults. Of course he knew that. He could tell. After all, being an ex-assassin, an ex-spy and an ex-soldier helped with these things. Boring things.

A girl was there. On his right. He knew she was a college student. She could've been some 19 or 20. But, hey.... there was nothing wrong to look, just a little for observation purposes. She was not extraordinarily beautiful or drop dead gorgeous, but she was... something. Her green eyes gave off a youthful air despite the exhaustion that was evident in her face, her straight dark brown hair, and those natural pale pink lips. She had mildly dark underbags on her eyes. She looked as if she was done with everything and just wanted to melt into a deep darkness. He could give her that. That deep darkness. Soo deep and far down that she could never climb out. That's what he wanted to do to her. He quickly snapped out of his thoughts before he let himself take it over him. Then, she spoke.

"Umm.. do you have anything light but not expensive?", she asked while trying to sound experienced, and like as if she had done it before and was an adult.

Bucky chuckled. The girl turned to him. He could see she was not happy with his reaction. Typical. And he loved that. Why? He didn't know. But he did. There was that part in him that never left. The monster was never gone. It was still in there. It couldn't be caged forever. And she was just a small trigger for it come out. Even if it was just for a few seconds.

"Excuse me? Did you hear something funny?", she demanded him. Bucky turns his head to his right.

"Next time, you might want to come prepared to sound like it.", Bucky replied casually and aimed at the bartender, Gary.

"How many are you there?", Bucky asked her.

She wanted to snap back at him and slap him, but she felt that something about was dangerous and dark. Not in the good way at all. He just gave off this vibration of a nice person, but something felt cold and unknown. She didn't know him well enough, but she knew to trust her guts to keep her mouth shut than to provoke something she didn't know.

"Umm... 6 including me", she hesitantly replied. Bucky liked it. He could already feel her submitting to her instincts. He looked at her more clearly but not in the creepy way. He noticed her body. She was wearing a black dress. Pretty tight and till right above her knees. She was thin. Not naturally.. but sickly thin. He could feel it. The lack of proper and basic nutrition and that stupid trend to look "perfect." He thought to himself how weird the world had become and come to, some things had never changed. Crimes, trends, insecurities, and fears. Always there, regardless. He avoided rolling his eyes. He didn't want make any sort of impression that he knew about her.

"Gary, 6 apple martini's."

Gary nodded, and before he could look at the girl, Bucky replied, "It's on me."

He turned towards her and introduced himself.

She smiled back at him. Or at least she thought she did. It looked more like her lips pressed thinly. She face palmed herself mentally at her response.

"I'm James, by the way." He let out a small, simple, and polite smile.

"I'm Irina. Umm, and you don't have to like pay for us. I don't mean to offend you, but you really shouldn't pay for us. And like we- um kinda got our money and don't want to give this trouble and I'm really um sorry that-that- i-i", she started to ramble out of nervousness. He cuts her off.

"It's alright. I got it. You don't have return anything at all alright?", Bucky replied confirming her doubts.

She nodded and gave a small forced smile. She didn't like what he was doing at all. She didn't want to argue, more like did not know how to argue with him. He didn't seem quite like someone you would to argue with. He had these aura of something she couldn't point out and it scared the hell out of her. She thought herself to be good at reading people, but clearly not. She couldn't tell his intentions at all. He didn't seem scary, but something just didn't sit well with her. She didn't know what to say next or how to continue the conversation till the drinks arrived and her friends were clearly chatting somewhere in the back not bothering to side her here at the bar. She hated the silence between them. She wanted say something but didn't know what.

Bucky could feel her gears turning in her head. Hell, he didn't know what to ask her either. He felt internally embarrassed for volunteering to buy her drinks. He cursed at Gary, the bartender who, for some reason, now was taking too much all of a sudden.

"So... do you live around here?", Bucky immediately face palmed mentally. He sounded like an absolute creep.

Irina felt awkward at his question. She could he wasn't being creepy but the female instincts of it being creepy question just flared up.

"Um... yeah. I mean, kind of? I'm in student dormitory of (University Name) Law University.", she replied decently hoping he wasn't gonna ask more.

"That's good. It's a great University. So that means you're studying something Law related?", he asks in an attempt to find her interest.

"Yeah. Yup. Good guess.", jokes.

Bucky laughs awkwardly knowing he was dumb for asking a student whether they were studying Law at a Law University.

Irina carefully points out something hoping she wasn't rude. She sort of guessed he was The Bucky Barnes.

"So.. I don't mean sound creepy, but are you.. like The Bucky Barnes?"

Bucky froze for a second. But quickly recovered.

"Yes, that's quite right. It's that obvious, huh?", Bucky asks, embarrassed.

Irina laughs genuinely. Bucky likes it. It was finally a real one.

"We were studying about your case. You're pretty complicated for laws to be applied. Sometimes, even contradictory.", she explained.

Bucky nodded. He really didn't know his case was that complicated that it was now in textbooks as well. He was starting rethink why he approached her soo weirdly in the first place. She was clearly very well versed about his situation.

Before Bucky could reply, Gary showed up.

"I'm sorry, but your friends packed up the drinks and left somehow. Would you like anything for yourself?", Gary felt bad. Some college groups abandoned a few of friends like this. He was old enough to be retired but it still didn't sit right with him.

Irina looked... not surprised.

"It's okay. I'll just leave. Thank you so much for telling me.", before Irina could thank Bucky as well, Bucky was already out of the door.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

To be continued.....

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A/N: I know it's weird ending for part 1. I'll try better. Comments would really be appreciated. Thank you for reading. Part 2 will come out in a week or so.

[readingandwritingandreading]

Long Time Coming ~ Part 9

My Blurb: This is a longer one. I could have done two chapters but you guys have been so patient and waited long enough!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the story. You own nothing, I don’t give anyone permission to post this anywhere. 

Summary: Bucky had waited a long time to find an Omega. When Pepper introduces the team to her new assistant he knows shes the one.

Pairing: Alpha Bucky Barnes X OFC Omega Carina Rivera

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics

Status: In Progress

Tagging: @ashes-writing | @pioched | @littlemissthistle | @pizgloria | @casa-boiardi

Read First: Long Time Coming Masterlist

Also Check Out: Main Masterlist

“Make sure the door is locked, keep your cell phone on you, not in your purse, on your person. If you need something off the compound, have it delivered to security, don’t leave…” 

“Don’t leave the compound. Bucky, I will be fine. There’s nowhere safer than this compound right?” Carina kissed him after cutting him off. “And you’re only going to be gone a few days right?”

Bucky sighed, but nodded his head. They had spent the past two weeks holed up in Bucky’s, well now both of theirs apartment. The others had nauseatingly called it their honeymoon phase. The morning after he had claimed her, Carina woke up alone in bed to a bang and whispered cursing. Pulling on one of Bucky’s shirts and some sweats she had left their bedroom to find Sam rubbing his thigh while Bucky and Steve moved boxes around the living room. Upon closer inspection the boxes had been haphazardly packed with the contents of her apartment. 

When she had mentioned that she could have helped if he had woken her, he had simply shrugged and mumbled something about “Tony needed the other place” before heading off to get the rest of her stuff. That night she had marked him and he had worn it openly and proudly at every opportunity. 

They had heard the news the day before that Brock had somehow escaped and been spotted near a suspected Hydra facility in Venezuela. Bucky hadn’t been on a mission since he had claimed her but Brock’s escaping and joining Hydra had been an “all hands” call that he couldn’t ignore. He didn’t like the idea of leaving her but she should be safe here. He waved his hand at Fury who was yelling at him to get on the Quinjet, before kissing her and jogging over to the entrance. She stood with Pepper on the helipad and he watched her until she was out of sight. 

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Waving to one of the tech's walking the opposite way, Carina stretched her arms and followed the trail. Waking up without Bucky by her side, combined with feeling the physical distance through their bond made her anxious so she had opted to try out the walking trail that wound around the compound. It had recently been extended and she had been itching to try it out. 

Breathing deeply she enjoyed the fresh air as she continued on. Despite it being a nice day, she had only seen the tech on the path. Checking her phone, she smiled at the background picture of her and Bucky before sliding it back into the pocket on her leggings and continuing onward. As she approached an area where she could just make out the tall concrete and barbed wire fence that surrounded the compound, she heard a yowling sound accompanied by a low whine. It was coming from the edge of the treeline just off the trail. Looking around, Carina couldn’t see anyone nearby.

Her phone felt heavy in her pocket, Bucky would want her to let someone else take care of it, not go charging into the forest on her own. Biting her lip she looked up the trail again, still no one. Pulling her phone, she frowned when she saw the no service signal flash. Tony must not be aware of a dead spot on his compound. The poor animal made another pitiful moan and Carina’s omega instincts kicked in. She scented the air carefully, she couldn’t let whatever it was suffer the time it would take to run back and find someone. Not smelling anyone but herself and a mix of animals and nature she slowly headed towards the sound. Eyes focused on locating the injured animal she didn’t see or hear the shadow until it grabbed her, one arm covering her mouth while the other plunged a syringe straight into Bucky’s mark on her neck. 

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“Lower level clear. Ow, fuck.” Bucky yelled, one hand leaving his gun to clutch Carina’s bite. 

There was a mutter of sounds on the coms before Steve’s voice rang out. “Buck! You good? On way to your location.” 

A few minutes later Steve rounded the corner to find Bucky leaning against the wall, hand still pressed to his neck, a look of pain and worry etched into his features. “Bucky, what’s wrong?” He yelled, looking for injuries.

“It’s our mating bond, something’s wrong.” Bucky grunted, pushing himself off the wall. “It feels like lava is being injected into the mark. I have to call Carina.” He accepted Steve’s help as they headed towards the jet. 

Once outside, Natasha met them looking uncharacteristically worried. “There’s nothing here, we’ve run all the scans. The perimeter is fortified but that’s it. It’s a dud.”

Tony appeared from the jet, pausing before meeting Bucky’s eyes, “It was a distraction. Carina’s missing. Pepper said she went for a walk on the trail but her phone is going straight to voicemail and the location isn’t pinging anywhere. I launched a search of the compound but no one has found any sign of her yet.”

“We’re leaving now.” Bucky whispered but the coldness in his tone made everyone glance at each other nervously as he stalked towards the jet.

“Bucky, we need to figure out a plan.” Steve tried but Bucky whirled around cutting him off. 

“Brock has my mate Steve, my omega, he set all this up to get me away from her.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Where I wouldn’t be there to protect her.” His voice cracked at the end and Steve nodded, gesturing everyone to the jett. 

The jett was a flurry of activity as Clint pushed it as fast as it could go and calls were made to the compound and surrounding area to track down any footage in the area. 

“We don’t know for sure it was Brock, do we? Bucky should be able to use their bond and find her anyway, right?” Pepper’s face was worried on one of the screens.

“Who else could it be? We were called away because we thought he was out here, who else would know the best way to get her from the compound?” Bucky snapped, ignoring the warning look Tony shot him.

“Normally yes, Bucky would be able to use their bond” Dr. Strange interrupted, “But what he described sounds like they injected her with something to start dissolving the bond. It will immediately start weakening their conn….” he was cut off by Bucky’s roar of anger as he stalked towards the weapons.

“I made Brock a promise.” His voice was lethal as he loaded a gun. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carina groaned as she slowly came to. There was a bright light shining in her eyes but when she went to shield it, she realized her hands were bound. Turning her head to the side she whimpered as pain erupted from her mark. 

“Ah good, you're awake.” Carina blinked again, squinting to see a figure step into the light, shielding her eyes but making him hard to see. He reached to a table off to the side and grabbed another syringe. “Just in time for another round.”

This woke her up and she tried to move away but found her feet bound as well. Thrashing to try and loosen them only caused him to laugh. Stepping fully into her line of vision she gasped when she saw Brock standing over her. “This isn’t possible, you were in Venezuela. They saw you there.” 

“They saw my very convincing body double there. But he’s long gone. In fact you’re little friends are probably encountering our surprise right about now.” Brock laughed, leaning over her and catching her neck as she tried to thrash away from him. He was too strong though and she stifled a scream as he jabbed the needle into the mark, injecting her quickly with what felt like molten lava.

“What…what is that?” She gasped, gritting her teeth against the pain. 

Brock smiled, tossing the now empty syringe on the table before taking a seat. “Well, with Bucky out of the way thanks to the little surprise we left them at the empty compound, I thought it would be easier for us if I started dissolving your bond to him.” 

“What little surprise?” The way he said “us” made her skin crawl but her mind caught on to his earlier statement.

“A completely unidentifiable bomb, none of their scans will pick it up but it should be enough to take out a super soldier…or two. He tacked on with an evil grin. 

A sob broke from Carina before she could stop it as she desperately searched their bond for Bucky. She had been able to feel him the last couple weeks, almost like his heartbeat was right next to her own but now she felt nothing as a wave of sadness overwhelmed her.

“There there now, just a few more injections and all this pain will be replaced with our bond. None of this would have happened if Bucky hadn’t stolen you away in the first place. But I will fix all of it. We can grow old together happily carrying out Hydra’s wishes.” Carina was horrified at the conviction in his voice, as if her relationship with Bucky was a minor inconvenience that he could sweep away. 

“Where are we?” Carina stifled her emotions and sniffed the air, trying to get an idea of where he had taken her. She had no idea how long she had been out and there were no windows in the room.

“Far away from New York, where those pesky Avengers won’t be able to find you.” Brock smiled before standing and heading out a door. The click of the lock bolting filled her with dread. Bound in a locked room, far away from home, Carina hung her head as tears escaped down her face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had taken three days for them to find any hint of where Carina could be. It was like she had vanished into thin air. Three days of feeling the agonizing burn through their weakening bond. Strange had informed him, from a distance, that every time he felt it meant she was likely receiving another dose. That thought had pushed Bucky harder than anything to figure out where she was. He has scoured the trail, finding the spot her location had last pinged from had uncovered a small speaker along with her crushed phone. Guessing she had been drawn off the trail by sounds from the speaker they searched the nearby area and discovered a tunnel made under the fence.

Much to Tony’s chagrin the area had managed to be cloaked from their radar, creating a dead spot that went undetected. Tracing the equipment had led them to the only break in the case. The company that made it was suspected Hydra so they pulled all the surveillance they had from the company. Combing through it they found a video of a man who, while heavily disguised, they were pretty sure had been Brock. 

Tracking a trail of information on the vehicle had led them to a cabin nestled in a secluded forest in Idaho. Despite his desire to go in guns and fists blazing, Bucky had let Steve and the team do a sweep of the area. With their knowledge of the cloaking device Brock had left behind they were able to get through it and realize the cabin was just for show. It led to an underground bunker, where they assumed Carina was being held.

Knowing they had surprise on their side gave Bucky enough patience to wait as well. When they had left Venezuela, another team was sent in to destroy the base so it couldn’t be used in the future. They had found a bomb that would have taken out the whole team. Hoping it would cause Brock to lessen his security, Pepper had made a public statement that the former Winter Soldier, James Barnes had perished in the blast.

“Heat signatures look like a handful of mercenaries, they aren’t expecting us.” Natasha lowered the binoculars, turning to look at Steve and Bucky. Bucky had wanted to go alone but had finally relented and allowed Steve and Natasha to join him. 

Cocking his gun Bucky nodded, “Take out whoever you want. Brock is mine. If anything happens, get Carina out.” He locked eyes with both of them before proceeding towards the cabin. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A series of thumps above her head drew Carina out of her head. She had become aware at some point that she must be in a basement and that Brock wasn’t the only one in residence. She wasn’t sure how long she had been in this room but it felt like days. Brock came regularly. He refused to untie her after she had lashed out when he let her use the restroom. Since then he fed her by hand, it made her skin crawl but she had to keep up her strength somehow. He had offered to let her shower if he could join her but she had adamantly refused even though she was filthy.

The room was sparse including only a bed, table and chair. Most of her time was spent in the bed since her feet were still bound and the pain from the injections usually made her exhausted. She was glad for the sleep though, the agony of being awake knowing that Bucky was gone was overwhelming. Brock had barged in triumphantly slamming a newspaper down in front of her. A picture of Bucky on the front along with a release from Pepper’s office. She had sobbed, not even fighting Brock when he had injected her again. 

Carina shuddered as she heard footsteps outside the door, jumping when Brock burst in looking pissed and waving a gun. He pulled her to her feet, practically dragging her out the door, a string of curses tumbling out of his mouth when he realized she couldn’t climb the stairs with her feet bound. Pulling a knife from his pocket he cut the ropes and pushed her up the stairs.

She stumbled up them as his gun dug into her back, she couldn’t use her hands and her legs were sore from being bound for days. Reaching the top, he shoved her into a small room and she gasped seeing Steve and Natasha taking out two guys, there were several other bodies on the floor. They must have heard her because they both turned and stepped towards her but stopped when Brock pressed the gun to her temple and pulled her back against his chest. 

“Let her go Brock, we aren’t letting you take her.” Steve’s voice was full of authority.

“She belongs to me, I was going to make this nice for her. But you two have forced my hand.” Carina tried to resist as he pushed her head to the side with the gun and lowered his mouth to her neck. She felt his hot breath and saw the shock on Steve & Natasha’s face but then a loud shot rang out. Brock went down, pulling her with him. Natasha and Steve were there in a flash, Steve was pulling Brock off her while Natasha pulled her away from him, quickly slicing the ropes on her wrists. Her eyes were locked on the door as a figure stepped through and headed straight towards Brock. 

“You don’t have to do this, we can take him in.” Steve said it softly, as if he felt he needed to but didn’t agree with the sentiment. 

Brock growled through clenched teeth and fury flashed in his eyes as Bucky pulled a pistol from his hip holster, “I made him a promise once, touch my omega again.” Bucky aimed and pulled the trigger, everyone but him flinching as the shot echoed and Brock dropped with a thud. 

“Bucky?” Carina sobbed as she tried to get to her feet, her legs giving out immediately. He dropped his gaze from Brock and hurried over to her and pulled her into his arms.

“I’m here,” he kissed her forehead as her face crumpled and she fell into his neck, breathing his scent in deeply. “Let’s go home.” Carina nodded in his arms and wrapped herself around him. 

[sjsmith56]

Snowfall

Summary: The threat of a stalker brings Bucky onto the team protecting an attractive writer but they’ve already fallen for each other. How can he do his job when he’s emotionally involved with his client?

Length: 5 parts

Characters: Bucky Barnes, named OFC, Pepper Stark, Happy Hogan, Sam Wilson, named OMC.

Warnings: Sexual situations (Rated M), violence, stalking, self-doubt.

Author notes: Takes place after FATWS but Bucky is back in New York, isolating himself from everyone except Sam. Thunderbolts and Captain America 4 haven’t happened.

Part 1. The Lady in Red

Part 2. Recognized

Part 3. Profile

Part 4. Encounter

Part 5. Shadows and Light

Short Fiction Masterlist

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 3399

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains background/minor themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

Series Masterpost for all chapters

2. Hazelnut Ganache Tart

Mary does sober up during her shift.

She feels kind of miserable, so she’s thankful that it’s a slow Monday. She’s also vaguely ashamed of how she’d shown up to work. It’s a new low, even for her. And then someone had seen her and called her out on it. It’s mortifying.

The encounter with Bucky preoccupies her thoughts all day, and she winds up burning a batch of croissants as she daydreams. She’s more careful after that, taking extra care with the assembly of her hazelnut ganache tarts.

Focusing on the intricate details of the pastries, on executing them perfectly, helps her to calm down and forget about the embarrassing encounter. For a little while at least. Alcohol would be better, and by the time she’s clocking out she’s already thinking about getting home so she can have the relief of a drink.

Or ten.

If anything, she throws back the first few even faster than usual, eager to wipe the memory of what’d happened that morning out of her mind.

Bucky, she thinks acerbically. What a stupid name.

And the nerve of him! To just assume those things about her. Has that loser never seen somebody hungover at work before? It's quite the presumptuous leap from that to … submissive.

‘Dominant’. Mary rolls her eyes. He could’ve just been making it up. Probably was. She’s certainly never met anybody who’s just come out and announced it the way he had. What a bizarre thing to do. It’s not like it’s something people go around broadcasting. It’s … well it’s a mental disorder, isn’t it?

They’d mentioned it in her Psych101 class back in college, but she’d dropped out before that semester was halfway through. Unable to help herself, she pulls out her phone and googles “Dominant,” then navigates to the Wikipedia page on “Dominant and Submissive Personality Disorder.” She winds up getting sucked into reading about it. But as soon as the article starts talking about the submissive subsection, she closes the browser in discomfort. 

She remembers back to the encounter with that guy—Bucky. He hadn’t seemed like there was anything wrong with him (other than being bossy and intrusive as fuck).  But where the heck did he get off throwing out psych diagnoses at total strangers? Mary's cheeks grow hot the more she thinks about his cocksure attitude and the pitying way he’d looked at her.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Doll.” 

She remembers how he’d spoken to her, how he’d called her out on her behavior and spoken so assuredly, like he could see right into her. Like he knew all her secrets. It’d been unnerving.

Her pulse quickens as she thinks about it. The way his big hand had felt, wrapped so securely around her wrist. And how he’d squeezed her wrist—slowly, gently.

“Oh, honey. I think you are.” 

Fuck, it’d made her knees go weak.

Sighing, she takes the bottle of vodka and her glass to the couch and plops down, using the remote to turn the tv onto YouTube. She starts up a playlist that she can lose herself in—music videos, stuff from all the tv shows she likes, edits, fail compilations, whatever. Maybe it’s pathetic that this is how she spends most nights, but there’s no one that she has to impress. And she can’t bear the feeling of being alone in her brain otherwise. At least this way everything is warm and entertaining. She pours herself a little more, throwing off the ratio of vodka to ginger ale, but the taste doesn't bother her nearly as much once she's on the third or fourth drink.

The bottle’s half empty, and she wonders if she’ll finish it. She’ll be drunk again at work tomorrow morning, if she does. Yikes. She’ll stop after two more. One more. Two more.

The bottle’s three-quarters empty and an Adam Lambert music video is blasting on the tv. He really is the most underappreciated vocalist of his generation! And he’s got such nice makeup, too …

Maybe she won’t even go to work tomorrow, Mary thinks manically. They don’t appreciate her there anyway. Maybe she’ll just stay here and drink the rest of this and enjoy herself until… until…

The bottle’s empty and the party’s in full swing. No worries though, she thinks, she’s got some of that nasty cheap rum in the back of the pantry. Blecgh. She orders DoorDash that she doesn’t really have the money to be wasting on, puts on makeup while lip syncing to the tv, and thinks about calling Chase to tell him what a loser he is and how glad she is that they broke up. Haven’t had to use this concealer to cover up anything but acne in over a year.

Rum isn’t so bad when you mix it with orange juice!

She gets on a depressing video kick. She bemoans the state of politics, then society, the world, her life. She goes through all the old pictures in her phone and gets pissed at the ones with Chase in them. She imagines running into her ex somewhere random, with a super hot new boyfriend on her arm. She imagines the dumbstruck expression he’d have on his face, and how she’d introduce her way-hotter new boyfriend to him. 

Ohmygosh, Chase! How’ve you been?! Oh me? I’m doing great. This is Bucky, he’s a surgeon-slash-green beret-slash-musician. Ha! Yeah well we just got back from two months in the Bahamas, so that’s why we’re so tan. 

It’s the rum, Mary decides. It makes her sad. She stops feeling fun and happy, and starts feeling lonely and morose. She finds the cardboard sleeve that Bucky had written that phone number on. Hell no, she’s not calling it. She’s got the internet. There’s tons of info online about this stuff that she can look up. Besides, it’s just curiosity. She’s not like him. She's not like that.

She googles BDSM disorder and clicks on the first search result, which winds up being porn. That’s a mistake, but then she decides to watch the porn anyway, because it’s sexy—plus, it's sort of educational, right?

The porn starts making her even more sad. She stares at the paper cup sleeve in her hand while some girl gets the tar beat out of her backside. The last video had been an over-the-lap spanking video—Mary had liked that one. But this doesn’t look nice at all. Especially when the guy switches to hitting her with a friggin’ stick. 

Is this the sort of stuff Bucky likes to do? Jeez.

She has the receipt that Bucky wrote his own number on, too. On impulse, she pulls out her phone and starts to enter a new contact. 

“Asshole Dom Bucky,” she mumbles as she types the words and saves the new contact number with a giggle. It takes more than one try, her fingers not hitting the right keys very often, but she gets it done. 

She comes very, very close to calling Bucky, but winds up calling the hotline phone number instead at the last minute. She’ll whine and cry to them instead, she thinks. At least they’re strangers. She can tell them anything. It’s confidential, anonymous. They can’t tell anyone what she says.

A woman picks up the phone and greets her in a calm, friendly voice.

“Hello, my name is Sharon. I’m a volunteer counselor at the National Submissive Crisis Intervention Hotline.”

“Whatever,” Mary slurs. She is so drunk. She gulps more of her rum and OJ, thinks about going and getting the little razor blade that she only thinks about picking up when she’s wasted. Sometimes it feels nice to do something outrageous when she’s this sad. Nobody can stop her from it, and that feels nice, too. “M’not having a crisis,” she mumbles.

“Okay,” Sharon says, voice still so pleasant and accommodating. “What’s your name?”

“Mary.”

“Okay Mary. I’m glad you called. Would you like to talk to me about what you’re going through? We can talk about anything you’d like.”

“I’m not a freak,” Mary blurts out. “You know? Submissive, or whatever. I’m not. M’normal.”

“Okay,” Sharon says calmly. “Well just so you know, I’m not here to judge. I’m on the spectrum myself.”

Mary blows air through her teeth disdainfully—though deep down, she guesses it’s nice to know that. "So what," she mutters. "You're like, a submissive?

“I’m actually dominant, but I’m not going to do anything to try and boss you around or control you. I’m just here to listen to and support you.” 

“Oh.” She looks down at her glass, feeling like she doesn’t even want to finish drinking it. She’s tired … And sad. “Kay,” she mumbles. “Well I’m not. Like that.”

“You don’t think you have a designation disorder."

Designation disorder, pfft. Mary scoffs again. “Yeah, no.”

“Then why did you call tonight? Do you need someone to talk to?”

She grumbles unintelligibly, then repeats herself when the woman on the phone prompts her. “Some guy just gave me this number. He said that I was.”

“He said that you were what, Honey?”

“… Submissive.” She says the word quietly, embarrassed of it. “But what does he know, right?” She huffs. “Fucking stranger. He doesn’t know me.”

“Okay. What are you going through tonight?” Sharon asks, still sounding kind but also mildly worried. “Do you want to talk about that? About what made you call the hotline?”

Mary sniffles, feeling stupid. She’s suddenly tearing up and she doesn’t even know why. She wipes her eyes hastily and takes another big sip of her drink. “I’m drinking,” she says tearfully, bluntly, expecting to be scolded for it. "M'drunk."

“Okay,” Sharon says. She doesn’t sound mad. “Okay Mary, are you by yourself right now?”

“Yeah. M’in my apartment.”

“Okay. Okay. … Do you drink alone there often?”

Oh. That hits hard for some reason, and suddenly Mary’s crying, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to hold back a sob.

“Mary? Are you there, Honey?”

Honey. Mary cries harder. That's what Bucky had called her. She likes hearing it, but also she feels desperately sad because it reminds her about how she’s all alone and doesn’t have someone to call her ‘Honey’ or ‘Doll’ or ‘good girl’. And nobody’s ever spanked her over their lap, either. 

“Mary?”

“Yeah,” she says, voice all choked up. “Yeah, m’here.”

“Okay. Good.” Mary can hear the sound of typing on the other end of the line. “How are you feeling Mary? Do you think we could make a plan together? Maybe drink some water and get you ready for bed? It’s late. You must be tired, huh?” 

Mary sniffles. “Um,”

“It’d make me so happy if we could make a plan, Mary. Would you do that for me?” 

“... Yeah.”

“Oh, that’s so great. Good girl.”

Mary’s face crumples. She’s not a good girl. She’s not good at all! 

Sharon hears her crying harder and asks worriedly what’s wrong. “Mary,” she says, voice sharper—stern-sounding. “Mary, you need to talk to me and tell me what’s happening.” 

“Sh-sharon?” Mary cries. “What I tell you is private, right? You won’t tell anyone or report me, will you?”

“... The goal is to keep you safe, Honey. I’m here to help you do that,” Sharon says. “You can tell me anything you want to. I’m here to listen, remember?”

She sounds so kind and caring, so steady, and it makes Mary want to tell her everything. It’s been so hard, not having anyone to talk to. And anyway she’s already crying at this point, and it feels good in that way that crying sometimes does, so she might as well. It’s confidential.

She takes a deep breath, takes another big gulp from her glass, and starts spilling her guts to this stranger named Sharon over the phone.

Bucky’s phone rings early in the morning. He groans as he wakes up, grumpily reaching for it. He peeks at the red numbers of the alarm clock over on Steve’s side of the bed: 4:30 AM. 

If this is a robocall this early in the morning, he’s going to be tempted to commit capital murder. “Hello?” he rasps.

“Hello. Is this, um … ‘Bucky’?”

It’s a man’s voice. Bucky squints blearily up at the bedroom’s popcorn ceiling. “Yeah? Who is this?”

“Sir, my name is Officer Santiago with the New York Police Department. I’m calling from Holy Cross Hospital.”

“Hospital?” Bucky says, more alert at hearing that. “You’re a cop?” Why is a cop calling him? Bucky can’t think of a good reason.

“Yes Sir.”

He sits up in the bed. Beside him, Steve starts waking up, too. “Mmph, who is it?” he asks sleepily.

“What’s happened?” Bucky asks, dread already curling in his gut, imagining who could be hurt or dead at the hospital that they’re calling him at this hour …

“We have a woman here,” the officer says. “She called a crisis hotline. The operator was worried about her safety, she contacted us.”

“Those hotlines are supposed to be confidential,” Bucky growls.

“She was making threats of self harm. We had to pick her up. We’ve got her down here at the E.R. at Holy Cross. Involuntary hold.”

“Wait a minute ... What was the hotline she called?” Bucky asks, as the thought occurs to him and he hopes he’s wrong. “It wasn’t a D/s hotline, was it?” 

Beside him in the bed, Steve is grimacing and rubbing his eyes. “Babe?”

“Some submissive crisis line, yeah,” the officer says. 

Bucky’s heart sinks. The woman from the coffee shop yesterday. “Mary,” he murmurs, remembering how neat and cute her handwriting was on her nametag and on the side of his to-go cup. “Shit,” he says.

“She’s stable. She has minor self-inflicted injuries but nothing life threatening. We found your number in her phone.” Here is where the officer starts to sound uneasy. “You’re listed here as her, um … her Dom.”

“I … am?” Bucky’s eyebrows climb his forehead. He hadn’t thought the girl would keep his cell number, let alone save him as a contact. He’d thought he’d pissed her off, that she was too proud, too mortified.

“Babe, who is it?” Steve asks, awake now and frowning at Bucky in concern. He can tell something’s wrong. Bucky shushes him with a gesture and Steve’s face flashes with annoyance. Bucky gives him an apologetic wince.

“Specifically, you’re listed under ‘Asshole Dom Bucky’.” The officer clears his throat uncomfortably. “She wouldn’t give us a number to call, and department policy is to contact designation partners, if possible.”

Bucky opens his mouth to tell the officer that he’s not Mary’s partner, that he doesn’t even really know her. But he stops himself, thinking about what happens to subs who get dragged into the E.R. and go unclaimed. “I … yeah,” he hedges. “Yeah, that’s me.” After an awkward pause and feeling guilty for the lie, he checks, “You said she’s okay?”

“Yes. She’s pretty upset, and intoxicated. But the doctor checked her out and said she’s okay. Well … physically-speaking,” he adds awkwardly. “They’re ready to admit her.”

“Psych unit?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky sighs. “No. That’s not good. It’d be better if I came and got her.”

“Okay.” The officer sounds relieved. “She uh, she’s pretty upset.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that,” Bucky says. “What does that mean? Is she frantic?”

“She’s angry,” the officer says, and it sounds like he’s trying to keep his voice low now. Bucky wonders if Mary is somewhere in the near vicinity of the officer. “Drunk and super pissed. Belligerent.”

“Is she restrained right now?” Bucky asks, worried.

“Yeah. Cuffed to the bed.”

Bucky grits his teeth. “She shouldn’t be restrained by a stranger. It’s not healthy for her. Can't you just watch her?”

“Sorry Sir, that’s our policy when we bring in the involuntary cases. We have to do it.”

Bucky is already up and heading to the closet to grab clothes. “Okay,” he says curtly. “I’m coming to get her. I’ll be there within the hour.”

The officer thanks him and Bucky hangs up. He looks back at Steve, who is propped up on his side and staring at him in something close to shock. 

“Buck, what the hell?”

Bucky winces and goes back to the bed. He climbs up and takes Steve’s hand. Steve isn’t on the spectrum, but his dynamic with Bucky has always been more on the subservient side. Bucky sees that he’s not mad, is just waiting for an explanation, so he takes a breath and tells him, “You remember the woman I told you about? The one at the coffee shop?”

Steve nods. “The lemon tarts.”

“Yeah, her. She’s in the hospital. A psych hold, that was the NYPD on the phone. Somehow they think I’m her Dom, and she’s being difficult. Won’t give ‘em a name of anybody they can release her to.”

“Oh, man.” Steve is well-educated on the intricacies of Designated people: He’s married to one, after all.

“Baby.” Bucky rubs the back of Steve’s hand. “I have to go get her.”

“You don’t ‘have’ to,” Steve corrects. He looks at Bucky knowingly. “But you want to, don’t you?”

Bucky doesn’t know whether to feel embarrassed or not. “I … yeah. I want to.” He and Steve have talked about the possibility of bringing another person into their marriage one day, a submissive to meet Bucky’s needs. Steve has always been open to the idea, especially since they’re both bisexual.

“We gonna try and make that work out?” 

Bucky scoffs. “That’s way down the road.”

“But it would be good for you too, wouldn’t it?” 

He shrugs, and then admits, “Yeah, probably.” Bucky’s what’s known as a ‘high needs’ dominant. The condition affects him more severely than it does others. He tries to figure out if Steve is at all upset by what they’re discussing. “It’s crazy, I know,” he says. “Not exactly what we always talked about. We don’t even know her.”

“But she’s in trouble,” Steve says. “And you were drawn to her.”

Bucky sighs. “Yeah. I don’t think she has anyone else to go to. And they’re talking about admitting her to the psych unit.”

“That’s not good, is it?”

“No. They won’t have the knowledge to help her. Places like that tend to use meds first and ask questions second.” He sees Steve’s wince and nods. “It could definitely make things worse.”

“What’s wrong with her? Subdrop?”

“I don’t know. Cop said she was self-harming and drinking. That’s all I know so far.”

Steve nods. “Can I go with you?” he looks hopeful and ready to jump into action, and Bucky is surprised—even though he knows he shouldn’t be.

“Babe, you want to do this? Bring her home? Take care of her?”

Steve nods, stalwart. “We should try. It’s the best option she has. If it works out, great. And if not … well we can get her the help she needs, at least.”

Bucky nods. Steve is on-board. He doesn’t think this is stupid, or crazy. Bucky’s chest swells with affection for him. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Steve leans over and kisses him on the mouth. “I trust you,” he says. “And I love you.”

Bucky smiles, stupidly in-love with his husband. “Love you too, Stevie.”

They kiss once more, and then Steve is pulling back and clapping his hands together. “Alright! Let’s get going if we’re really doing this.” He hefts himself out of the bed, moving with purpose. “She’s waiting for us.”

Us, Bucky thinks happily, realizing that it’s true: They’re husbands—soulmates, in his opinion. They’re partners, an inseparable unit ever since the day they got married, and they do everything together. So it’ll be the two of them taking care of this woman together. They’ll be a team, each giving her what she needs in their own ways. And maybe it’ll go somewhere, who knows? Thinking about it makes Bucky feel settled and satisfied inside, the barest ghost of the sort of feeling he gets from domming someone.

Impulsive as it is, he’s got a hunch that this is the right decision.

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[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Big Sky Eyes

Chapter Sixteen

Master List |  Bucky Barnes Master List  |  Series Master List

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Pairing: Cowboy!Bucky Barnes x Disabled!OFC Maybe Cole

A/N: Thank you, Mea C, for your Coffee Update! Sorry, I didn't get this out in September. Life is getting in the way of my writing.

Warning: language

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[ozwriterchick]

Bucky goes missing..

Summary: Bucky goes missing. But maybe not the Bucky you expect.

Characters: James Bucky Barnes; OFC!Female Character

Word Count: 829

A/Note: Start of a new series, all will be one shots (mostly, probably, lol) under 1k words with meet cutes.

They will probably be mostly Bucky but if you feel inclined, send me an ask with a suggestion for another character or a situation you wanna see and I'll do my best.

Also, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

Not Beta'd so any mistakes are my own.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Cam took a long deep breath, so glad to be back out on a trail with her beloved pooch, Bucky.  Yes, he was named after the Avenger who used to be the Winter Soldier.

It had been way too long since she’d been out for a hike like this, for a few different reasons.  The weather hadn’t been great lately and, when it was, she was working.

Cam had been working long hours.  In fact, she felt like she’d worked more in the last few months than she had in a long time.  Most days she spent at least 10-12 hours at the office, going home only to order some food or microwave leftovers, then fall into bed.

There was an important project that her team had been assigned.  They wanted to make sure they didn’t fail on this one as it would lead to a major promotion for one of the team.  Cam wanted that promotion for herself. She’d worked at the company for over 5 years now and felt like it was past time for her to reap the rewards of all her hard work.

Rounding a corner in the trail, Bucky must have heard or smelt something because he took off before she even realised what was happening.

Sighing Cam tried to run after him but he was so fast it wasn’t funny.  She kept calling his name, trying to get him to come to her but wherever he was he was either too far away to hear or he was deliberately ignoring her, which was likely. He’s very definitely done that before.

A bit further up the trail, not far from the lake at the end, Cam heard Bucky bark. She knew she was close enough to him for him to hear her so she yelled at the top of her voice “James Buchanan, you get here,right now Mister.”

At no response she continued, “I’m serious sir, no dinner for you if you don’t get your butt right here,right now.”

A rustling in the trees caught her attention and all of a sudden someone burst through the brush and she came face to chest with a solid wall of muscle, clad in a leather jacket and a blue Henley.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she began, then she looked up into the most gorgeous steel blue eyes she’d ever seen.thats when she realised, that she’d just run straight into the real life Bucky Barnes. “I.. umm.. I didn.. oh” No further words were forthcoming from her brain, or her mouth.

“That’s ok,” he politely said, chuckling at her stammering. “I shouldn’t have come through the trees like that, but I heard someone calling me so I took the shortest path to where the sound was coming from. Maybe I got the direction wrong.”

“Oh, um. I didn’t hear anything” Cam replied, not realising it was actually her he’d heard.

“Well for sure I heard someone calling the name my mother gave me and swearing I wasn’t going to get any dinner if I didn’t come straight away. How strange is that.in the middle of a hiking trail where I don’t know anybody.”

Cam looked at him in confusion. “Well, I won’t hold you from finding whoever you’re looking for” she tried to smile but felt like it came across as more of a grimace, judging by his expression.

“Ok, well nice to run into you” he chuckled again and Cam thought it might just be her new favourite sound.

At that moment Bucky, the dog, came crashing through the bushes and skidded to a stop between them, looking up at both of them eagerly.

“Where have you been young man” Cam demanded of the dog.  “I told you, no dinner for you tonight.”

“It was you” he said in a surprised voice.

“What was me?” She asked genuinely.

“You yelled at me to get my butt here and that I wouldn’t get dinner tonight if I didn’t. I so confused now”

“Oh, right, sorry I really wasn’t thinking about what you said earlier. I guess I should explain. I’m Camellia and this is my ignorant dog, Bucky. Mainly because, as you can see, he has three limbs the same colour, and one different. Kind of like you. He’s also fiercely loyal and super protective, when he’s actually listening and not running off or ignoring me.”

“It’s lovely to meet you Camellia. That’s such a pretty name” 

“My friends call me Cam or Cammy usually.  Only my mum calls me by my full name. My Nana used to all me Millie”

“I think I like Millie best.  So Millie, would you and canine Bucky like to get a coffee with me? There’s a cart at the lake, we could continue on to that. It’s not too far away.”

“I’d love to “ Millie said, clicking the lead onto Bucky’s collar before heading off down the trail towards the lake with Bucky and Bucky in tow

Tag List: @wolfbeanpotion

[aikaterini-drag]

Dropping this eye candy to get your attention

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Promises - Chapter 14

Pairing: Bucky x OFC

Words: 1.2k

Summary: Izzy gets ready for Bucky's party, but she's unsure of her costume. Queue smutty flashback

A/N: This has been on my AO3 for ages. I'm up to chapter 25 over there but am trying to update things here on Tumblr

Warnings: Explicit. Smut. Bondage theme.

***18+ Only... Minors Do Not Enter or Interact***

PROMISES MASTERLIST 

Bells & Whistles

Izzy stood in front of her mirror with her hair curled and pinned up loosely to look seductive.  Her make-up was far more dramatic than her usual nude style with light smoky-eye.  Her skin was bronzed, eyes dark, lashes heavy and lips a deep burgundy red.  The black patent leather stiletto pumps Nat had instructed her to wear made her legs look long and shapely, leading the eye up to where red bondage tape spiralled up one leg from the ankle, overlapping to create a tight skirt at the top of her thighs, and winding a spiral up again until it overlapped across her chest to cover her breasts.  Atop of that, she wore the black mesh dress that didn’t covered anything at all, and she had attached the jingling bell nipple clamps to the fabric just where her nipples would be had they not been covered with the tape.  She felt ridiculous but had to admit that she looked amazing, like something from an S&M porno meets Victoria Secret.  Natasha would approve. 

Izzy bounced a little to jingle the bells.  She recalled the first time she’d seen those nipple clamps. 

The tinkling sound of bells distracted her from admiring the lean and muscled perfection that was buck-naked Bucky.  He’d stepped out of her bedroom for a moment, having forgotten something so important that he had to leave her, hot and flustered, with an aching heat between her legs.

“What’re those?”  She propped herself up on her elbows and regarded him with a lidded gaze as he stood by her feet at the end of the bed.

“They’re for you.”  He was grinning like a Cheshire cat.  “Humour me, will you?”

She didn’t know what he was playing at but usually when Bucky had a bedroom plan it ended in euphoria and shaking legs for her.  She knew he wouldn’t try to push something new onto her without asking first.

He tossed the tinkling bells onto the bed beside her but kept hold of the other package until she’d examined the first.

Scooping up the bells, she turned them over in her fingers.  A pang of nervousness combined with a slight thrill of excitement sent a flush to her cheeks and her heart jumping.

“Nipple clamps?”  She asked sceptically.

“You lov- um, you enjoy it when I pinch you so I figure this is the next step.”  He explained.  “And it’ll free up my hands to do other things.”  He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Izzy couldn’t contain her nervous giggle.  “Okay, I’ll try them.”  She said almost too eagerly, working out how easy the slider was to move for more or less pressure.  “What’s the other thing?”

“This is a little bit more of a bigger ask.”  He came and knelt on the bed next to her.  His cock was at half-mast, hanging between his parted thighs.  “It’s tape.”  He said finally, when she looked up from his lazy erection to find him watching her face with a smirk.

“Tape, Like duct tape?”

“Bondage tape.”

“You want to tie me up?”  She asked, a little scared by the prospect.

“If you want to, we can, but this is for me.”  He was unashamed, but his vulnerability and his trusting gaze set her heart fluttering.  He was baring a secret part of himself to her, and she felt more than a little privileged, she felt profoundly moved.

“Whatever you need.”  She didn’t hesitate, offering him her unconditional acceptance.

Bucky looked at her with a mixture of relief and contentment as she examined the roll of plastic tape.  It felt strange to her, not at all like she expected.  It wasn’t sticky but it did stick to itself spectacularly well, a little like industrial grade saran wrap.  Izzy unrolled a piece and wrapped it around her wrist before tearing the roll off.  It smothered the skin on her arm and would definitely leave a sweaty patch underneath.  It tore easily enough in single layers and would definitely be more comfortable than things like handcuffs and cable ties.

“I can wait for this.”  He broke her train of thought, holding up the roll of red tape.  “I think we should start with these.”  He jingled the bells at her with an impish grin as he pushed her back onto the bed.

The sex that night had been a different kind of exciting.  Bucky had made sure that she put the bells on herself first, adjusting it to where she felt comfortable.  Later she’d let him do it for her, pushing her pleasure/pain boundaries a little at a time.  Bucky always knew how to make her body sing, it was like his superpower.

The last time they’d used the clamps had been the first time she’d been bound with his red tape, and the first time she’d experienced the illustrious nipplegasm.

She’d worn the bells all throughout their foreplay.  Bucky had tongued her nipples around the clamps, jingling the bells with the rapid and firm flicking of his tongue.  She’d come, desperate and needy without him so much as blowing on her soaking wet cunt.  He’d built her up until she was practically writhing under him, wrists bound in red tape and strapped to the sturdy wooden bars of her headboard.  Reading her body so well he’d pushed her to the edge of oblivion multiple times, teasing her with it, tempting her only to withhold that last push that would send her spiralling over the top.  Izzy had begged him, sobbing his name until she thought she would have to use their safe word.  Having pushed her right to the edge again he finally let her come.  Twisting the clamps in his fingers he tugged them from her skin roughly, creating the most acute and exquisite sting that shot a bolt of pleasure from her nipples to her cunt, which spasmed brutally as she came.

Suddenly Bucky’s fingers were inside her, drawing out her pleasure.  He moaned as he felt her pulsing around him and as she began to calm he’d loosed her from her bindings, drawing her arms down and rubbing her hands in his.  Once satisfied the blood flow was normal, he laid one of her cool hands on his solid cock and lay back as she took him into her mouth and finished him off with ease.

Izzy blinked hard, her reflection coming back into focus.  All the memories of her and Bucky swam around her brain, bringing tears to her eyes.  She missed him fiercely and decided that she would try to patch things up with him, tell him she forgave him, set things straight.  Would she tell him about her feelings?  Doubtful.  That was her last-ditch effort to save something of their relationship if things went bad; her Hail Mary.

Steeling herself, she swung on her charcoal grey trench coat and grabbed her clutch.  Her taxi would be arriving momentarily to carry her to Stark’s Bar & Grill, back to her good friends, and back to Bucky.

PROMISES MASTERLIST