#BladeHits2kChallenge

[justsomebucky]

Say That Again

Summary: Soulmate AU. Everyone hears a key word or phrase in their head from their soulmate, something only heard in person when the moment is right.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,543

Warnings: language, self-consciousness, fluff, that’s basically it

A/N: This is my submission for the lovely wonderful talented @bladebarnes’ 2k Celebration Challenge. My prompt was 35. quote: “Say that again.” I saw Baby Driver recently and couldn’t get the diner thing out of my head.

‘Say that again.’

That’s the phrase that sounds in your head nearly every time your emotions are heightened. All the experts you’ve consulted agree: that’s the voice of your soulmate (the one you have yet to meet) reassuring you somehow that they still exist.

Every person hears a word or phrase in someone else’s tone of voice in their lives.

It’s nothing as dramatic as the movies, where the phrase is the first or last thing they’ll say to you (though there have been reports, on occasion, where one-half of the soulmate duo loses it and passes out when they finally meet).

No, it’s just a phrase that you’ll hear from them in a shared moment between you when the time is right, so that you can identify that it’s really them.

A person could already know their soulmate, but until they say the words you’ve become so familiar with, they’re just another person to you.

Your aunt realized her soulmate was her freaking gynecologist after three years of a doctor-patient relationship. It wasn’t until her keyword came up in conversation that she realized, mid-exam, who he was (awkwaaaard).

Anyway, you didn’t want it to be that uncomfortable for you.

It seemed only fitting that your soulmate’s little catchphrase was a demand rather than words of comfort. You were only a sucker for validation, no big deal.

Say what again, anyways?

It left no clue as to what your soulmate was hearing on repeat from you. Was it romantic? Did you tell him off during a fight? Was it something stupid like, ‘pass the salt?’

You remember the first time you started hearing his voice in your head. It began as a gentle whisper, and every time you’d find yourself in trouble or a crying mess on the floor, the little mantra would make itself known in your brain.

‘Say that again.’

“I’m sorry, am I paying you to sit and daydream?”

You blinked up at your boss, Pepper Potts, who also happened to own this diner. Pepper’s Place was purchased for her as a gift from her very wealthy boyfriend, Mr. Tony Stark. She had grown tired of being his assistant and longed for a much simpler way to show off her business skills, so this cute little place right near the highway was converted to a classic diner.

Most of its patrons were just traveling through to someplace more exciting, including truckers who stopped to refuel themselves with pancakes and greasy eggs.

You were the newest hire, a university student in need of some extra funds for all the stupid new overpriced books you had to buy.

Being a waitress wasn’t so bad, once you got used to being called sweetheart in every which way except the way you wanted (not that you’d want any of these people to say it that way). Customers kept their hands to themselves; Pepper would have it no other way.

Plus, you got free waffles all the time, and something great was always playing from the jukebox.

“Sorry, Pepper,” you muttered, straightening up off the counter and offering her a weak smile. “Won’t happen again.”

Pepper eyed you for a second. “Good. Now could you please go pick up table six? Natasha had to sneak out for a doctor’s appointment and Jon’s…being Jon.”

“I can do that.” You grabbed your iPad (no way was a restaurant associated with the Stark name going to use regular paper and pencil for orders), and wandered over to good old table six.

There were four guys currently sitting together, looking a little bit more than uncomfortable. The first person to smile at you was a blonde man with bright blue eyes and perfect teeth.

“Ma’am,” he greeted with a nod.

You offered a smile of your own. “Hi there, welcome to Pepper’s Place. Can I get you started with some drinks?”

“I’ll just have water,” he replied, glancing to the man next to him. “Sam?”

His buddy Sam scratched his head for a second. “Coffee, please.”

You nodded, tapping your finger on the iPad. “Are you guys gonna want separate checks?”

Mr. Perfect Teeth was about to speak up, when the other blonde guy stopped him.

“No, Steve,” he cut in. “This is on me. You picked up the check last time.”

“Thanks, Clint.”

Somehow you were learning all their names. At least this would make it easier than thinking to yourself that Mr. Perfect Teeth wanted water.

Clint nodded at you. “I’ll have an iced tea.”

“One iced tea. And for you, sir?” You glanced up from the tablet to the fourth guy sitting in the corner. He was wearing a hat and jacket even though it was fairly warm inside the diner that day.

You’ve seen stranger things, so you just shrugged it off and waited patiently.

“Water,” he finally croaked out.

“You’ll have to excuse Bucky, he’s not good in social settings,” Sam explained, chuckling to himself.

“Ooookay. So that’s two waters, a coffee, and an iced tea. I’ll be back with your drinks in a couple minutes and you can let me know if you need more time to decide.”

“Thank you-” Steve’s eyes slipped down to your name tag. “- Y/N.”

He was both polite and good-looking. Thank goodness for customers like him. You gave him another smile before turning to get their drinks.

“So what’s the deal over there?”

You looked over to the waiter on hand, Jon. “What’s what deal?”

“Those absolutely gorgeous specimen sitting in your section today? How come you get to have all the fun?”

You lifted the water pitcher toward him. “Thirsty much?”

“God, yes. Look at the tall, blonde, and built one. He was flashing you a pretty sweet smile.”

“He was being polite,” you argued, reaching for the coffee pot. “This isn’t decaf, right? The handle is so worn I can’t tell.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, I never bothered to brew the decaf,” Jon replied, pressing his hands on the counter. “I was too busy drooling.”

“Jon,” you hissed, putting one hand on your hip. “You know that’s dangerous, right? Some people can’t have the caffeine.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll brew it right now, but you have to step up your flirting game.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll get right on that.”

Before he could utter another word, you grabbed the tray and went back to the table, handing out the drinks. It looked like they were just finishing up a tense conversation.

“Are you guys ready to order, or do you need more time?” Your iPad was at the ready just in case.

“Umm…what are the specials?” Clint asked, flipping the menu over. “I couldn’t find them.”

“Today’s specials are wedding soup, a roast beef sandwich with fries and gravy, or a fresh chicken mango salad.”

“I’ll have the roast beef,” he decided, handing you the menu.

Sam and Steve both ordered that as well.

Your eyes flickered to the fourth guy expectantly.

“Bucky, did you decide?” Steve asked gently.

You wondered for a second why these guys were being so soft-spoken to this Bucky.

When he failed to do anything more than stare at the menu, Clint sighed. “He’ll have the roast beef, too.”

Well that was all fine, but you weren’t going to make a move until Bucky confirmed. He did two seconds later, giving a short nod as he handed the menu over without looking at you.

Weird.

“Sure thing.” You confirmed their order and submitted it to the kitchen before leaving the table again.

Jon was thankfully busy at his own tables when you got back behind the counter, so you set the iPad down and turned to Wanda, head of the bakery section.

“Wan, have you ever seen those guys in here before?”

She glanced over her shoulder to table six before nodding. “I’ve seen them all around here before.”

“What’s their deal?”

“They’re just uni students like us. I think the two on the aisle are there on athletic scholarships. The one in the tight army t-shirt is in my public speaking class, and he’s really good with words, such a charmer. As for that other guy, I’m pretty sure he’s trying to be a doctor or something.”

“He’s wearing a coat indoors. It’s freakin’ hot in here.”

Wanda looked back at you. “He’s just probably self-conscious about his arm.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What about his arm?”

“He’s got a prosthetic arm. No clue what happened, but everyone says he did something heroic.”

“Hmmm…” You glanced back at the table, catching Bucky’s blue eyes staring at you. Your cheeks heated almost immediately, so you turned away and toward the kitchen just in time to see that their food was ready.

The lunch rush was only just starting and Natasha still wasn’t back yet, so you had to take on a couple more tables and leave the four guys to their sandwiches.

The busier things got, the more your anxiety seemed to increase. Twice, you nearly took out someone with your giant tray. You hated to admit it, but that second time you’d been distracted by the fact that Bucky wasn’t at the table anymore.

He probably just went to the restroom, you reasoned as you went to shove your iPad back into your apron pocket.

The last table only wanted milkshakes, which was easy enough for you to handle. It was actually a nice change of pace, considering the table before that wanted every appetizer on the menu.

You distractedly spun around, letting out a sharp gasp when you bumped into a hard body. Your iPad slipped from your fingers and landed with a thud on the floor.  

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, crouching down at the exact same moment the person you ran into crouched. The two of you bumped into each other again, and this time you lost your balance and fell over onto them.

You glanced up, ready to apologize profusely when you realized that you’d just landed on top of Bucky. His hat was off and you could see him clearly now.  

His blue eyes were staring down at you in total shock.

“I’m so sorry, it’s my fault.” You scrambled to get off of him, feeling your face heat up for the second time since your shift started.

You found yourself locked into place when he gently held your elbow. Confused, you looked back at him. Why the hell would he stop you from getting up? You were totally humiliated as it was. Maybe you weren’t cut out for waitressing after all.

“Say that again.”

Great, and now you were hearing your stupid soulmate’s voice amidst your anxiety attack. Perfect timing like always with a completely useless and not-at-all reassuring phrase. You huffed and moved to pull your arm away from him.

“Say that again.”

A little shock ran through you when you realized Bucky’s mouth was moving at the same time you heard your little catchphrase. Your mouth opened and closed a couple times as you tried to digest what you just saw.

“I said ‘I’m so sorry, it’s my fault,’” you repeated, unable to tear your eyes away.

Bucky shook his head in what could only be described as utter disbelief. “That’s…that’s impossible. I’ve imagined the scenario a thousand different ways and a phrase like that- it never led me to think that I’d- that we’d meet like this?”

“What do you mean?” You had an inkling, but you wanted to hear him say it.

“Say that again,” he repeated. “That’s what you’ve been hearing, right?”

This time you actually managed to get up off of him and stand upright, though your eyes never left his.

“What are you saying?”

Bucky stood too and reached for your hand as he pulled you toward the door. The little bell rang and you caught Pepper’s eye, but you merely shook your head helplessly at her and followed Bucky outside.

“My whole life, I’ve been hearing ‘I’m so sorry, it’s my fault,’ over and over in a voice that sounded an awful lot like yours,” he explained, running his hand through his hair. You caught a glimpse of his high-tech metal prosthetic, which he noticed.

Bucky pulled his sleeve up. “Do you know how this happened? Anyone back there tell you?”

You shook your head, gazing at the impeccable design.

“I pushed a woman out of the way of a bus on campus. She didn’t realize she had to look both ways and check the bus lane, walked right out in front of it. I pushed her out of the way and took the hit myself. They tried to fix it but my arm was crushed.”

To say you were completely in awe of this man was an understatement. “You’re a hero.”

He shook his head. “That’s not why I’m…I told you that because the woman there nearly said the same phrase but it wasn’t exactly right…I’ve spent the last two years thinking that fate was playing a cruel joke on me, that you weren’t actually real, or that I already missed out on knowing you.”

You couldn’t imagine feeling that way. “Until I apologized?”

For the first time since he walked into the diner, Bucky smiled. “Until you apologized for something that clearly wasn’t your fault. Then the phrase took on a new meaning.”

“And you said the phrase I’ve heard all my life.”

“I guess I did.”

You really hit the damn jackpot on this one. Bucky was a hero, a real life hero! He was beautiful and kind and smart, and you probably didn’t deserve him. “So what do you go to school for, Bucky?”

“I’m in the biomedical engineering program. I started out in a different major, but since my accident…I want to help people like me with prosthetic limbs.”

“That’s amazing,” you breathed out. “You turned something scary into something amazing.”

He looked at you evenly. “So you aren’t…I mean, my arm-“

“Clearly we need to get to know each other better, pal,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m just glad you weren’t hurt any worse than that.”

“People stare a lot…I just wanted to make sure you weren’t...”

“You’re my soulmate,” you interrupted, your voice sounding every bit as thankful as you felt. “Every single piece of you.”

“And you’re my soulmate.” Bucky’s smile widened, his eyes sparkling. “I never imagined someone so beautiful would be meant for someone like me.”

“I’m just a waitress.”

“And I’m just a guy who wasn’t even going to go out for lunch today.”

You took a step closer, sliding your hand gently up his metal arm. “So who should I thank?”

“Steve,” he supplied, letting his other arm encircle your waist. “He told me I needed to get out of the apartment.”

“Yeah, Steve’s going to get a free slice of apple pie.” You gave him a warm smile. “It’s the least I could do.”

“That’s fine by me, sweetheart. Give them all desserts. Meanwhile, I get the girl, and I couldn’t be happier.”

Bucky leaned over until you felt his breath on your lips, but he hesitated, waiting for your permission.

“Say that again,” you joked, leaning over to close the distance with a kiss.

no tags, i’m sorry - on mobile.

[waywardimpalawriter]

Timing AU Artist Steve Rogers x plus size reader

Timing

 Summary: Twice you met him hopefully the third time’s the charm and you actually get a name.  

Pairing: Artist!Steve Rogers x Bookshop owner! Plus size! Reader, Bucky Barnes x Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff x Clint Barton                                                                          

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff

Setting: Soulmate AU, no Avengers, no powers just humans

Rating: PG-13 for now

Warnings: a little angst, sadness, but fluff to, self-doubt, body conscience,  

Word count: 4,596

Notes: Written for @bladebarnes #bladehits2kchallenge my prompt is you get your soul mates name on your left arm when you turn sixteen. I also want to apologize for not getting this out sooner I had every intention of doing so and then a hurricane hit and tossed all good intentions out the window. I do hope you all enjoy this little fic and any feedback would be greatly appreciated.

Key: Y/F/N = Your Full Name, Y/N = Your name

Forever: @winters-buck @angryschnauzer @marvel-lucy @feelmyroarrrr @aquabrie @fandommaniacx @supernaturallymarvellous @thetalesofmooseandsquirrel

Marvel: @sebbytrash @ek823  @melconnor2007 @creideamhgradochas

Timing tag: @buckyismysexuality  @promarvelfangirl @smoothdogsgirl @kirakombat 

@bradygabrielle-blog @rhyatt-deauxtreve @jasmineladjevardi @breezy1415 @toastmaster94 @littlenerdgirl16 @lady-thor-foster @mindingmyownbusiness @sokkasbae255 @anotherotter @caramell0w @dis-gurl-amyyy @nopevilleluas @vesperazylra  @thatgaldonna @ever-faithful-sidekick @just-a-fiction-lover @sebastianbarnesandchrisrogers @kudosia @unsung-knight @garnetandlace @iamwarrenspeace @raxacoricofallapatoriuspotter @trinityjadec  @dean-jace-nicklous-damien @starkgaryan

Thumb brushing over his name for what felt like the hundredth time today, a habit you took up since those letters appeared on your skin. One that hasn’t left you in the twenty some years though as time ticks on and his presents in your life remains absent; you begin to lose hope and your fingers brush the name less frequent.

“So I was thinking we could double date tomorrow night,” Natasha’s voice broke you from the stupor you’d sunk into with the midafternoon lull.

Eyeing her closely, “You do know that would mean I had a boyfriend to right Nat?”

“Of course babe and…” soft smirk stretching her ruby lips as her equally fiery locks bounced in excitement. “I’ve got you one Y/N you’ll love him truly.”

“No,” pushing away from the counter and grabbing up a small stack of un-shelved books making your way towards the back. “I’m not letting you set me up on some cockamamie blind date with a guy Clint works with thank you very much,” walking backwards giving the red head a glare.

“Y/N…” she started to call out right before you collided with a solid wall of muscle. Books flying from your arms and you to would’ve landed on your face had it not been for a pair of strong arms wrapping around your thick waist.

Heart hammering, eyes widened taking in the expression on Nat’s beautiful face then remembering the stranger you bumped into that rescued you. Turning, a prayer on your lips that you hadn’t made a fool of yourself in front of some handsome stranger, worse than that your soulmate.

Gathering your will to look up into the softest pair of baby blues you’d ever seen, framed by brushy dark brown eye brows, thick black lashes most women would kill for and crinkles forming at the corners of those sweet eyes. Breath having been stolen, not hearing him speak so caught up in his eyes that the almost fall is a long forgotten memory.

“I’m…” swallowing thickly; trying to find your voice to explain and not trip over your words, “I am so sorry for almost…”

Sandy brown head shaking in the negative, his hands still gripping your shoulders, sincerity showing in his features, “Are you alright doll?”

You both had spoken at the same time but what threw you off was the endearment he tosses in at the end. It gives you pause and makes you stare once more. Only to hear Natasha laugh behind you, snapping the train of through from your mind.

“Yes, yes I’m fine. I should be asking you that one. I ran into you I could’ve done more damage,” regretting those last words when a hiss from Natasha reaches your ears. Turning quickly, shooting her a disapproving glare before crouching to pick up the scattered books.

For a second the stranger looks from Natasha still at the counter to you, feeling the warmth that’d been your body pressed against his fading now. A strange thought occurred to him that he wanted that feeling of warmth and belonging to return. Strange since the only way to get that back is to have you a complete albeit beautiful stranger in his arms again. Bending he picks up a few books, mesmerized by the beauty before him not realizing you both are reach for the same book till hands brushed and lingered. Tingles shooting up both your arms making you retract at the feeling.

Once again drawn up to his eyes that seems to sparkle even while looking at you. Not able to help but almost drown in them. Though this time you find your voice quicker, “Was there something you needed help finding?”

‘Your number,’ almost rolled off his tongue though he thought better of it figuring he’s not as suave as his best friend James. “Uh well I was,” clearing his throat feeling heat fill his cheeks. Glancing down to notice that your hands managed to migrate closer together ; he grabs up the slim volume handing it and the other two in his hand over, “Art books, specifically working with clay.”

Pushing away the disappointment you rose, “Follow me please,” leading him to a few rows over and down almost to the end. Pointing, “These three shelves should have at least one book you’re looking for.”

“Thank you,” but he’s not looking at where your pointing rather at you memorizing every little dealt about your features, but most of all wanting for some unknown reason to see you smile.        

Nodding, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear, “Your welcome. If you need any more help just come up front.”

“Will you be there?” the question is out before he can stop himself, eyes falling to stare at his feet.

Bashfully glancing towards the man who you’d bumped into; taking in his appearance. Soft looking dark brown beard well-kept that suited him. Dark blue short sleeved Henley covering strong shoulders, thick biceps and strong arms that are making your mouth water as you stare. A torso you find yourself wishing you could touch and wouldn’t mind snuggling into on any given night. Down to a trim waist and jeans covered thick thighs and legs. Yup its official your mouth had dried up and took a hike just staring at this fine male made your whole body heat and your heart race.

Clearing your throat, trying to pry your tongue free from the roof of your dry mouth, “I’m… I’m sorry?”

“If I need help again will you be up front?” raising his head to look at you a soft smile pulling at the corners of his very kissable mouth.

‘I’ll be anything you need,’ is what you wanted to say but settled on, “Yes after I shelve these.”

“Good,” wanting to slap himself, he quickly turned away busying himself with looking through the shelves for a book he could use.

Puzzled by his change in attitude you try to shake the hurt off and go about your task, you had a business to run after all not ogle every good looking man who comes through the doors. Which by the way are few and far between since most people read on their fancy devices and phones now a days. Yes the printed word is going the way of the eight track and the dinosaurs.

Managing to stay hidden in the back reaches of the bookstore till Mr. Hard body left, you’d even peeked to make double sure before coming out. Natasha, arms crossed giving you a disapproving glare when you finally emerged.

“What I had books to shelve,” stated matter of fact walking passed her towards the counter.

“No you were hiding from Lick-o-licious is what you were doing,” disapproving tone in her voice. “What I don’t get is why? He was interested Y/N you should’ve gone for it.”

Giving her the patented ‘as if’ look with a roll of your eyes for good measure, “So far out of my league Nat. I mean you saw him.”

Nodding, “I also saw a man who looked you over not once but twice with eyes that seem to picture you naked to.”

“Pff, keep dreaming sweetheart that’s not what you saw not with this bo… Ow,” rubbing the abused arm from the smack she landed. “What the hell was that for?”

“Putting yourself down Y/N,” shaking her wild red head again hard green eyes going soft with flecks of gold dancing when the light hit them just right. “You’re beautiful inside and out, stop acting and thinking like no man will ever want you.”

Sighing, pinching the bridge of your nose, “How can I not Nat when the one man I’m supposed to be with hasn’t even bothered to walk into my life. He probably saw his name on my wrist and ran for the hills.”

“And maybe you just haven’t met Steve Rogers yet,” Natasha voiced getting just a little frustrated with her best friend.

**********

“Steve what the hell took you so long man? I thought for a moment I’d have to come in and bust your ass outta there,” smiling grey blue eyes taking in the slightly flustered appearance of his reappearing best friend.

Shaking his head, Steve looked back at the bookstore spilt between going back in to get your number and just shaking it off. The later won out he did have class to get to. “Nothing man, just…”

How could he describe the woman of his dreams just stumbling into his life and he didn’t even get her name to see if she’s the one. Bucky always called him sentimental and old fashioned for sticking to the names tattooed on their arms from sixteen on. Most were graced with their soulmates name printed in medium sized what appeared to be black ink though no one ever knew what it truly was. Because with time the name faded almost as of fate is saying there’s a time limit.

“It’s a woman isn’t, you bumped into someone?” mirth ringing in the deep cadence of his voice. Grabbing Steve by the shoulder and stopping him. “Did you get a name?”

“No,” simple word coming out softly taken away on the warm spring wind not bothering to glance over at Bucky; who’d just make fun of him anyway. He’d been lucky finding his own soulmate at a young age.

“What was that bud?” getting in step with Steve making their way down through the throngs of people pushing to get somewhere. All in a hurry and not really watching where they’re going as bags and purses hit both men on occasion.

“Alright fine, no I didn���t get her name okay you happy?” Steve shouts stopping just shy of missing being hit by older man banishing a cane at anyone within reach.  

Pushing Steve out of the way, “Why the hell not punk?”

“She might not be the one,” he mutters looking down at the cracked grey pavement feeling foolish for what he’s said.

“Damn it Steve how else will you find her if you don’t ask?” shaking his short chestnut brown head. “You gave up on a relationship, a good one I might add with Peggy because of that name and yet your too shy to ask when a beautiful dame drops into your life.”

If Bucky only knew how true his words were, but Steve isn’t like him, brash, outgoing, the life of the party, no he’s  shy, keeps to himself mostly unless there’s trouble to be found. Shrugging glancing at his watch, “I gotta get back to the apartment and grab my stuff class is in two hours and…”

“Yeah, yeah you don’t wanna be late,” rolling his eyes hitting Steve on the shoulder. “Next time ask the pretty dame out and get to class ya damn nerd.”

Starting off, a grin pulling at his lips, “I’ll remember oh great one. You just better pray her names Y/N or you’ll never hear the end of it,” he snarked disappearing into the crowd.

**********

“Oh for crying out loud Y/N stop pulling at the dress its fine, you look gorgeous. Clint tell her, she looks good,” Natasha groans grabbing Clint’s shoulder and making him turn to face you.

Smoothing a hand down your thighs trying to find comfort in the bright red sweetheart neckline sweater dress Nat picked out. Sure it went to your knees but you still felt self-conscious about it. Dresses were and never will be your thing however you’d promised Nat for one night you would.

Taking your hands in his a genuine smile on his lips, “Sweetheart you look beautiful if Derek can’t see what’s right in front of him then he’s a fool.”

Blinking, “But you’re setting me up with him Clinton,” a soft groan leaving your lips, shaking your head at this very bad idea. You knew how things would end like they always did even when you did try.

“Don’t worry none babe it’s gonna be fine,” he reassures you while taking Nat’s hand leading her out the apartment.

Closing and locking the door you stand there a moment gathering your courage glancing at your wrist seeing Steve Rogers there makes you frown. “Why can’t I find you,” the words a whispered question that no one but you will hear.

Across town, “Hey punk get dressed.”

“I am dressed jerk,” Steve replies barely looking up from his sketch pad were he’s managed to outline the shape of your beautiful face from memory.

“Sketch pad down you can draw your nudes later we’re going out.”

Groaning, “Don’t feel like it Buck,” closing the partially used pad. “You know how it’ll go, I’ll be the third wheel to you and Wanda. No thank you pal I much rather stay here, study, order take out and… hey.”

While Steve talked Bucky came up behind him in the overstuffed blue chair taking the sketch pad from his hands, “You’re going man now get dressed and lets go Wanda’s waiting and friend,” he slipped in tossing the pad back on the coffee table.

Which Steve snaps up glaring at his best friend of 20 or so years. “No, not again no more blind dates Bucky I’m tired of them.”

“She’s this cute little blonde Wanda knows from her gym class,” giving Steve his best puppy eyes. “Don’t do it for me but for Wanda.”

Sighing in exasperation, Steve tosses his hands up rising but still glaring, “For Wanda and if it ends with me standing at the bar all night this will be the last time.” Black letters catching his eyes Y/F/N printed there thinking that maybe this time he’ll find you.

Music thumping, drinks flowing, bodies swayed and grind against one another. Standing at the bar nursing the first drink a simple Jack and Coke looking over the crowd to spy Natasha and Clint dancing if you could call it that of course. Eyes training over to your date, not bad 6’0 nice looking, with black hair and piercing sage green eyes, dressed rather causal in jeans and a black button up.

“So you work with Clint?” the question is out and sounding to your ears so stupid.

Nodding, “Yeah,” is his only answer pretty much ignoring you the moment of introduction. Instead looking towards the dance floor or the tables anywhere but at you; nursing a scotch on the rocks.

You’d felt his eyes take in your plushier form, wide hips, soft tummy, bigger arms and thighs, could feel the curl of his lip that he tried unsuccessfully to hide. With each moment that passed you’d tried to start up a conversation a few times with no luck.

Finally having enough of the jerk, setting your half gone drink down, “I’m going to the ladies room,” excusing yourself and pushing through the light crowd not waiting for an answer that you wouldn’t get. Figuring by the time you returned he’d be gone stringing along some other woman.

Thankful when the line moved pretty quickly feet aching from standing in one spot for a while. Once inside you debated with yourself on texting Nat that you’re leaving sporting a headache, but their your ride. So you suck it up going back out after finishing catching your date on the dance floor with some little blonde number practically humping one another.

It’s just as well, runs through your mind while heading back to your spot at the bar. Bumping into someone which makes you look up into those same green flecked blue eyes from earlier in the day.

“I think my luck just changed,” Steve grinned down at you staring into your beautiful E/C eyes.

Tipping head to the side, “How’s that?”

“My date,” pointing to the woman currently dancing with yours. “Seems I wasn’t the man she wanted.”

Frowning, “Don’t know why not your handsome, built like a brick house and your voice alone should’ve convinced her,” wanting to slap yourself for saying that even as he chuckles. Making warmth spread out over your body a light bushing of pink coloring cheeks and chest as you go to move away when his hand takes yours gently, a surprise given his size and muscular body.

“Dance with me?” same soft sweet smile on his lips that you wish would be other places right now.

Blinking not sure you heard him right, “Excuse me?”

Leaning in to brush your ear with those soft kissable lips, “Dance with me please?” he pulls back giving a hopeful look. Wondering where this sudden burst of confidence and forwardness is coming from. Normally not a ladies man, rather keeping to himself because he knows he’ll fumble on his words and make a fool of himself.  

“Yes,” comes from your own mouth just as a slow song starts to play.

Pulling you into his arms, one wrapped around your thick waist the other still holding the hand he initially took. With surprising comfort the gentle sway has you resting your head on his chest breathing in his cologne, mixed with something subtle which has you wanting to bury your nose and just stay here.

“So what’s a beautiful dame like yourself doing in a place like this?” Steve questioned lips close to your ear to make hearing easier.  

Head coming off his chest to stare up at him taking in the crisp long sleeved blue shirt he’s wearing while trying to come up with an answer. “Truthful?”

“Please.”

Sighing, “Blind date my best friend seemed to think was a good idea to set me up on. Though he’s having a better time with your date right now,” you can’t stop the giggle which escapes at the thoughts running through your mind.

“What’s so funny?” butterflies coming to life inside him at hearing your giggle.

“Luck just wasn’t with us tonight.”

Shaking his head, boyish smile on his lips, “I don’t know I think I like how this turned out.”

Blushing, ducking your head part of you doesn’t want to believe him that he’s just being nice. However the other part is squealing like teenage girl being asked by her crush to the prom. “You may be changing your tune later.”

Studying your face, “Something tells me I won’t,” he grins dipping you backwards listening to you laugh again.

Three songs later finds the two of you back at the bar you nursing a Coke this time, and your mystery man a water. “How is it a guy like you is single?”

“He always has his head buried in some book sweetheart,” came Bucky’s deep voice from behind Steve.

Groaning, wanting to cover his face at the teasing but he still looks at you seeing the smile on your ruby tinted lips that he desperately wants to kiss. Watching them move, but paying little attention to what you’re saying, “Nothing wrong with that in fact I applaud the idea but that might be from owning a book shop.”

Grinning, “You’re the mystery woman punk here has been talking about since this afternoon.”

This time Steve really did lower his head hands rubbing his eyes then fingers through his short sandy blonde hair. “Buck if you weren’t family I’d kill ya for that,” he growls hearing you chuckle again.

“I know the feeling sweetheart I have one just the same,” the smile on your lips reaching your eyes as they lock with Steve’s you hand going to his. “You know I never caught your name.”

“It’s…” just as he’s going to answer someone pushes a man into you spilling their drink down your front making you squeal in cold.

Gasping, shock written on the stranger’s face, “I am so sorry ma’am I didn’t mean that.”

Waving the apology away flapping your dress to get the ice to drop down, grabbing up napkins to pat the rest away, “It’s fine no harm done except to the dress of course.” You glance at Steve, “Give me a minute to wash up I’ll be back.”

Nodding, “I’ll be here doll,” he smiles making your tummy do flips.

Smacking him upside his head, Bucky shakes his own, “Why didn’t you ask for her name right off punk.”

“We were having to good a time till you showed up jerk. Why are you and Wanda up here and not on the dance floor anyway?” Turning to see Wanda leaning against Bucky not looking so good concern flashes in his eyes and he’s up on his feet tossing some bills down for your drink.

“What about your girl?” Bucky frowns not wanting to pull Steve away from the happiness he sees in his best friend’s eyes.

Looking back towards the bathrooms indecision written on his face, Steve spots Natasha from the book shop. Rushing over, “Listen I know you may not remember me from the bookshop earlier today but…”

Puzzled then she remembered Natasha smiled which morphs into a frowns at the look in his eyes; “I do what’s wrong?”

“It’s not, crap I don’t even know her name or yours but and this sounds really bad…”

“Stop,” voice stern as her arms cross trying to hold in her laugh. “You have to leave don’t you?

“Yes,” taking a breath. “Wanda’s sick and I’m their ride home.”

“Go I’ll let her know, but you better come by the bookshop and explain tomorrow,” Nat states loosening her arms feeling Clint come up beside her, his arm wrapped around her waist.

“Deal and thank you,” wishing he could see you one more time before he left but a pained groan from Wanda makes him hastily turn taking her other arm, placing it around his should as the three of them leave.

   Ten minutes later, front of your dress partly dry to find Natasha and Clint in your spot but not your mystery man. Heart dropping to your black kitten heels you approach anyway ready for the lie she’s going to tell you.

“Hunk-o-licious had to leave something about Wanda being sick but he did promise to come by the shop tomorrow and explain,” Natasha spoke right as she sees you. Frowning at the look she places a hand on your shoulder reassuringly. “Have hope Y/N he’ll come back around.”  

“Story of my life Nat,” halfhearted smile on your lips as the three of you leave the club.

Coming up between the ladies Clint places his arms around both, “From a male’s point of view sweetness,” he smiles when you look at him. “He’s in to you big time but it just so happens luck wasn’t. From what I saw of the two of you on the dance floor, the way he looked at you, he’ll be by I’d lay money on it.”

*********

But he didn’t in fact return the next day, nor the date after that either. On the third day you gave up hope of ever seeing him again, stand at the counter flipping through the latest issue of Cosmo. That late afternoon drag starting, you glance at your watch.

“Hey Nat I’m going to get some coffee you want anything from Sammy’s?” you called towards the back grabbing up your wallet.

“Regular coffee with a touch of soy milk and two sweeteners please and one of those lemon bars if he��s got’em,” she answered coming out to hand you money which you wave away. “I’ll get the next buy.”

Smiling you take off with a wave into the warm sun, slight breeze moving your hair and brushing your skin. Soaking in the vitamin D, steps light and partly cheery giving most people you pass a smile till you reach the small coffee shop. Run by another dear friend of yours and fellow small business owner Sam Wilson.

“Afternoon Sammy,” you cheerfully state getting looks from two males just to the right of you.

Grinning Sam comes from behind the counter to hug you tightly, “Well hello to you to sweetness. Come in for the usual I’m guessing?”

“How’d you guess handsome?”

“Because you order the same thing every time you come in. Can’t I just this once make you something different? Just for you,” he gives you the best puppy eyes he can till you nod.

Turning your foot catching on a chair someone forgot to push back, you ready yourself for the impact and the pain. Which never comes as a pair of strong arms encircles your frame holding you close to a very male chest.  

“Seems you keep falling for me princess,” familiar deep voice speaks in your ear making you look up into those green flecked blue eyes you’d fallen for almost a week ago.

“My hero always seems to be in the right place at the right time,” smiling as he stands you back up not taking his eyes from you or yours from him.

“Shit Y/N are you okay?” concern lacing his tone, Sam pulls you from Steve’s arms checking you over.

Eyes wide Steve looks from his wrist to you, “Y/F/N?”

“Yes,” you’ve turned from Sam to stare at Steve; who’s holding his wrist up for you to see written in black letters your name. Stepping closer taking his hand running your index finger over the name, making him shiver at your touch your name unable to believe what you’re seeing. “Steve… Steve Rogers?” full blown smile on your lips seeing him nod.

“I can’t believe I’ve finally found you after so long,” he breaths cupping your cheek bringing your foreheads together. “This is going to sound so crazy, but can I kiss you?”

No answer comes you just raise on your toes and place your soft lips against he’s slightly chapped one. From there he pulls you close with one arm around your waist enjoying the soft feel of your body pressed into his hard one. Mouth molding over yours just little light presses of lips at first then a teasing of his tongue on your bottom full lip. Which makes you gasp and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside the warm cavern of yours to tangle and taste. Drawing you that much closer as your own arms have come to wrap around his neck; butterflies dance in your tummy as you both drown in the passionate kiss.

Speaking against his lips since you’ve had to stop for air, “Not crazy at all Steve,” you giggle pecking his lips one more time.

“No but the two of you making out in the very front of my coffee shop is. Move it along better yet get a room,” Sam states with a chuckle.

Turning you stick your tongue out like a two year old, “It’s not every day you meet your soul mate Samuel.”

“Crazy lady say what?” deep brown eyes shocked wide as he comes back to your side looking at yours and Steve’s wrists. “Bout damn time you showed up. Thought for a moment my girl wouldn’t be so lucky.”

Sheepishly Steve rubbed the back of his neck but kept an arm around your waist a part of him fearing it’s all a dream and if he let you go you’ll disappear. “Yeah well I’d started thinking that one myself,” hating to admit that out loud giving you an apologetic smile.

“Go sit talk I’ll call Nat and let her know you won’t make it back today,” Sam exclaimed waving the two of you towards a table.

Pulling a chair out for you, Steve takes the opposite, “Hello soul mate,” he smiles brushing his thumb over your knuckles.

Blushing glancing down at your joined hands, “Hi there soul mate.”  

[mercedesbarnes]

Some Enchanted Morning

Summary: You find love at first sight with Steve.  

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Word Count:  2,308

Warnings: none

A/N: this is for @bladebarnes‘ 2k Writing Challenge! My theme was ‘love at first sight’ and I ended up exploring a spin on it...hope you enjoy :) 

Friday, 7:15 pm

Everyone prays.  Everyone has their reasons, too: wanting to be closer to a religious figure, for protection, hope, or the last slice of pizza. Whether they know it or not, they pray.

Including you, devoutly, for the L train to hurry its metal butt up.  

All you wanted was to get home to Brooklyn, and as that wouldn’t happen without having faith in the being that controlled the rails, you urged the oil gods to make the rails smooth and quick and whatever else the metal butt needed to move fast.  You had to take the L train, but if you could help it, you didn’t want to take the L.  Here’s to hoping your prayers convinced it to come on time. 

Your week had gone terribly. Today worst of all. A stockbroker on Wall Street, you had a high-stress job to begin with, and then add in the impatient dealers and buyers wanting to get their trades in before the long weekend and it became almost unbearable.  You’d never been so happy to yell TGIF to your coworkers the second the clock struck seven and you could leave.  

“Finally,” you mumbled as the L train glided into the station, two minutes behind schedule, better than usual. Few people joined you on the train so it was easy to fall into the seat of your choice. You debated resting your overworked head against the grimy window but decided against it. Of course, to add on to the week, you had forgotten your headphones, so daydreaming would have to pass the forty-five minute commute.

You couldn’t deny New York was a pretty fantastic city, its transit system notwithstanding; the view while crossing the bridge into Brooklyn was stellar. However, the further the train got away from the city of bright lights and no sleep the more you could feel yourself relaxing, a smile even appearing for the first time in hours.  That smile stayed on while you stepped over the threshold of your apartment, inhaling the scent of home that you missed so terribly.  You felt better, but not quite good enough, so you texted your boyfriend seeing if he wanted to come over for a late dinner.

Spaghetti was boiling on the stove when Steve let himself in, whistling.  Your face lit up when you noticed him toe off his shoes and approach you for a much-needed hug.

Another prayer of yours: that he never runs out of hugs. Somehow they make everything better.

“Hi honey.” Steve pulled you into his side while you stirred the pasta and he pecked your forehead. “How was your day?”

You groaned in answer.

“That bad, huh?”

“So bad...I’ve never been happier to be home. Rumlow was breathing over my shoulder all day about the new account I picked up, and he only stopped after I threatened to staple his tie to the desk.  God,” you exhaled, going over to the sink to drain the pasta, “please give me the strength to do it one day.”

Steve’s chuckle echoed as he moved to the next room to set the table. “I don’t know why he’s the favourite in your office, he sounds like a jerk.”

“He is. Please ask my boss that at the next holiday party, if you do I’ll do anything you want.”

Steve poked his head through the kitchen doorway to look at you with a goofy expression. “Anything?”

“Mind out of the gutter, Rogers!”

“You said it, not me,” he winked, his playful grin disappearing.  Once they were cool, you scooped up the noodles and poured tomato sauce over them. You handed Steve a plate when you sat down at the table, him picking up his fork and twirling the spaghetti immediately.  Looking up, he laughed when you tossed your napkin at him.

“I meant going to see the exhibit at the Smithsonian you’ve been talking about!”

“Are you sure?”

You tried to look away to stop a laugh from bubbling up except he was so cute you couldn’t help but tug at his arm for a kiss. It was one way of not having to fully answer what he asked, plus he missed your lips before. Steve had been here fifteen minutes and you already felt a thousand times better, an effect you always appreciated about his presence. You hoped you did the same for him in his times of hardship.

“Yes. How are you?”

“I’m good! I had a lunch meeting today at the best coffee shop, I have to take you, you’d love it.  The guy I met was from Redwing Designs and he was very interested in working with us…”

He launched into the details of his firm’s upcoming building deal and you listened intently.  Architecture was a fascinating topic when Steve talked about it; his whole face lit up and his eyes sparkled when you asked follow-up questions about a particular topic.

You talked happily through dinner and the clean-up, before settling in to watch the show you’d started together. You snuggled up to his side and watched him flick through the Netflix guide. Season 4 had promised to be even more dramatic than the previous ones and you both were excited to see it play out.

“Oh, Y/N, about the Smithsonian: I do have a couple free passes...wanna go?”

“Now?” you asked, taking hold of Steve’s arm and squeezing it.  “It's closed, hon.”

“Not now,” he confirmed, resting his hand on your hip to bring you more into him. “It’s up to you, but tomorrow works.”

“It does for me too, let's go!”

“But we should be there early.”

“Okay.”

“So you’ll get up?”

“Definitely. I bought a loud alarm clock.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

“...what time does it open?”

Being cute must be a gift for him, for he was even when bashful. “Six thirty.”

You blinked.

“I know, I know, but it gets busy,” Steve said, pressing a quick kiss to your lips to prevent you from reaching for your phone and checking the opening times to see if he was serious. “It’s a really popular exhibit.”

“Not a problem, Stevie, we’ll go before the crowds.” Your hand rested on his chest to trace random patterns, knowing how much it would mean to him if he was the first one in line. The exhibit was right up his alley.

“It’s a date.”

His fingers ran through the strands of your hair and he started the show. You watched many episodes, possibly too many, since both of you began drifting off in the middle of particularly drama-filled scenes. You’d have to rewind, but Steve was so comfortable and he’d have to move to get the remote. Not an option if you could help it.

“Y/N, hon. It’s late, I should get home,” Steve murmured, shaking you oh so gently. You stopped his sleepy limbs from leaving and looked at him through half-lidded eyes. “Stay the night, please?”

He nodded, a smile stretching from ear to ear, one so bright it beat the television. “Okay.  Let’s go to bed, we might get sore necks here.”

“Sounds good,” you yawned while standing and pulling Steve to his feet. He enveloped you in a great big bear hug and you stayed like that a minute, using each other as a headrest until you felt yourselves about to fall asleep standing up.

”Let’s not fall over...that might make us more sore.”

You made a noise of agreement and let go.

Steve had clothes and a toothbrush at your place so your night routines were quick and simple.  While brushing your teeth you poked your head into your bedroom, where he was settling under the sheets. You observed while he fluffed with the pillows, making a face as he fiddled; after a few moments he switched the one on his side for the one on yours.  

You knew your bed. He had just made sure you got the fluffier pillow.

If it was possible to melt like an ice cube, you would have been a puddle on the floor. How did you get so lucky to be dating him? He even let your wear his sweater to sleep, even though he might not get it back right away. 

Since you weren’t made of ice, you melted into his embrace instead, nuzzling your face into his shirt and grasping at his back to get him closer.  

“Thank you for dinner,” he said in a whisper close to your ear.

“Thanks for coming. You always make everything better.”

“Anytime, Y/N, I’m always here for you.”

“And me, you.”

After you adjusted the blankets so he wouldn't get cold you both said your goodnights and immediately fell asleep, curled into each other.  

Saturday, 5:36 am

There should be other methods for waking up. Alarm clocks were rude and persistent, two qualities that your least favourite colleague possessed and that you couldn’t stand as a duo.  Therefore, alarm clocks were almost as bad as Brock Rumlow. They only won because you could press a button to make them be quiet, a luxury you were not afforded when dealing with the human counterpart.

You felt around the bed for Steve, the result being warm sheets and no body. Frowning at the air temperature when you sat up and put your feet on the floor, you pulled the hood of Steve’s sweater over your head and opened your bedroom door, eyes still closed.  A promise was a promise. Meaning you needed to get ready for the museum and by extension it meant getting up.

There was a benefit to sleeping at your apartment: you’d mastered the art of walking from your bed to the coffeemaker without having to see.  Your mental map allowed you to do this without bumping into furniture, so you didn’t slow until you heard the music that grew louder as you approached the kitchen, music that you were pretty sure was 2000s-era Shakira. Yes, it was ‘Hips Don’t Lie’.

Opening your eyes, you were greeted to your very first sight of the morning, of Steve meandering around your kitchen, a whisk in one hand and a bowl in the other while he stirred pancake mix and mouthed the words of the song. His hair was sticking up in all directions and he was in a t-shirt and boxers and he was dancing.

All you could think was:

I love him so much.

You leaned against the doorway, hands in sweater pockets and amused eyes on your boyfriend.  At the chorus he turned to the pan and poured the mix, the whole time swinging his hips; it was a movement that did everything to accentuate his booty-fullness, if that was even a word. If not then Steve was the new definition. A sweater paw had to cover your mouth when he threw his head back to hit a perfect high note after he flipped the pancake.

The longer you were the audience to this one-man performance the bigger your smile became, and the bigger the realization of how in love with him you were, until you couldn't help but pad over and slide your arms around his waist.  

“Who the--? Y/N?”

“Morning, Steve.”

“H-how long have you been up?”

Somewhat reluctantly he put the spatula down and turned so he was leaning against the counter. You stepped between his legs so he wouldn't wiggle away and ran your hands down his sides.  

“Long enough to see you moving your hips like Shakira.”

His face reddened and oh my, did you love him. “I thought you were asleep. You weren't supposed to see, I was making breakfast...” A finger pointed between a vague direction of your bedroom and a pile of fresh pancakes, yet now his mouth didn't seem to want to work. It was opening and closing without any sound coming out.

“Hey,” you said softly. To get his magnificent blue eyes to meet yours you ran a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck. You loved him deeper than the cracks in your ceiling, more than morning coffee, and you thought you would burst if you kept those feelings inside. No matter that you hadn't said the words to each other yet. Right now you were so full of love for Steve Rogers that you almost didn't care if he didn't say it back.  “I love you.” 

His mouth did the thing again and with a sheepish half-smile, “Even after that show?”

You nodded, grinning. “Hips don’t lie, and yours told a story I’d like to be part of.”

“Your chapter is the best one,” he whispered, a full smile decorating his face as he brought you chest to chest. “I love you too, Y/N.”   

Both of you said it a couple more times, trying out the words that tasted so sweet on the tongue. You felt so giddy you could fly to the Smithsonian, and it was all because of the man in front of you, who you loved and who loved you.

Steve reached over and turned off the stove so the last pancakes wouldn't burn, and then said he loved you. You added them to the heaping plate, said you loved him.

Personally, you thought the pancakes wouldn't need syrup--the three words would be sweet enough.

Shakira looped again, and you burst into giggles; the song must've been playing for quite a while before you got up.  Steve quickly joined in when you asked him if this was true.

“Yeah. I’m a dork.”

“You're my dork, and I’m yours.”

“Awww.”

He pushed off the counter and took your hands to start dancing again, in which you eagerly took part. The performance definitely wasn’t as good as Shakira herself, but hey, it was early and fun. All good.

So maybe love at first sight does exist. But it doesn't have to be the moment you meet a blind date, or meet someone you’ll see at work. It doesn't even have to be the moment you lock eyes with a stranger across the room.

For you, it was at 5:45 on a sleepy Saturday morning where the very first picture of your day was Steve dancing and singing around in your kitchen. He was love at first sight. And that was much, much better.

Tags (open!): @wndas-romanoff , @canumoveyourseatup-no , @fxckmebuck , @langinator , @seeyainanothalifebrotha , @secondstartotheright-imagines , @the-renaissance , @miraisnotavailable , @winchesterandpie , @whyisbuckyso , @supernatural-girl97 , @bootypoppinbarnes , @sanjariti , @aekr , @rotisserierogers , @stevnsbucks , @engineeringgirlcve 

[ohwhatamessiam]

Give | Masterlist

Pre and Post Civil War Timeline

Bucky and (Y/N) had an amazing yet brief relationship in Bucharest before all hell broke loose. Two years later they reconnect in a bar in Brooklyn, but things have changed and neither are the same people they were before. Will their relationship survive or is a break up inevitable? 

My submission to @bladebarnes‘s #bladehits2kchallenge inspired by Give by You Me At Six. Here’s a Spotify playlist to listen to while reading the entire fic.

Moodboard.

Chapters

One     Two     Three     Four     Five     Six     Seven     Epilogue

Completed. The sequel, All or Nothing is currently being updated.

[killmongerdreams]

Catharsis

Summary: Bucky finds something to help him heal. Bucky x Reader.

Warnings: None. Fluff. 

Author: @fireandicewillsuffice / @untothebreachwritings 

Note: My submission for Blade’s 2k Followers Challenge! The prompt was #19 “word: cathartic.” Dedicated to @reincarnatedsoul because it’s her birthday today! Yay! *All of the poetry below is my own original work.*  I love you all and I hope you enjoy. 

****

You didn’t realize it until one night when he held you close and spoke in your ear.

“I want to dig myself into your warmth

I want to line my bones with it

I want to come away with you in my mouth

And in case anyone asks me to make my favorite sound,

I am ready with your name on my tongue.”

You weren’t even entirely sure you did hear anything, right on the edge of falling asleep. But your suspicions were cleared the next day when you saw a small scrap of paper on his bedside table with that same poem scribbled on it.

            You picked it up and ran your fingers across the words, a small smile spreading across your face, imagining him writing it down quickly in the dead of night, awake from a nightmare. You knew you wouldn’t press him on it; this was immensely personal and he had had too many people occupy his mind for too long for you to take this away from him.

            Bucky Barnes was not an easy man to read. He held himself close, protecting what he salvaged and what he rebuilt with fierce responsibility. When he does something, he never half-assed it; Bucky put in his full effort at all times.

            So when he was working through his recovery, his therapist suggested writing out things that bothered him, made him angry, made him happy, and made him remember. At first he scoffed at the idea. How was he supposed to write it all out and see it made flesh? See it become real?

            But after much pleading by his therapist, he ultimately conceded. He wrote out lists, he wrote out his thoughts, his fears, anything he could think of in the moment. He would wake up screaming during the night with you by his side, running soothing hands through his hair, holding him close to your chest. You would run your hands all around him, humming a familiar song in his ear, one that was his, and he started to feel a little comfort. Then he would get out of bed after reassuring you he was fine, and make his way to his office. And he would write.

            You didn’t ask, you knew it was his solace.

            When he crawled back into bed, thinking you were asleep, he would pull you close again and whisper into your ear all of his thoughts.

            Sometime down the line, those lists, those musings, turned into poetry. Bucky didn’t expect this. He remembered once upon a time back before the war, he tried his hand at poetry. It was tucked back so deep into his mind, he almost felt like it was something he made up. But as soon as he tried to fit his words together and tie them to his emotions, it was like returning muscle memory. His fingers just knew.

            So when he came back to his place next to you on the bed, he wanted to show you how he was feeling. The only way he could think of was to recite his poetry to you. He would hold you close and brush his lips to your ear, place a soft kiss there and speak beauty to you:

“I wanted these words to come out like the honey

 that drips from your voice

But all I could think about is the way your fingers feel

when they run across my neck

And there are no words for that”

              After days and weeks of this, he came up to you and told you he was thinking of enrolling in a college and taking some classes. You were ecstatic, you couldn’t believe he had come this far and wanted to further himself in any way he knew how. You asked him what courses he wanted to focus on and he looked down at his feet for a second, a small blush creeping into his skin.

            Sheepishly, he looked up at you again and said, “Writing.”

            You threw your arms around him for a fierce hug and didn’t let go, rather you wrapped your legs around his waist and heard him let out a loud laugh. Bucky felt tension release from his shoulders, happy that you never judged him, always just accepted.

            Months and months had gone by with Bucky attending college, learning and absorbing everything. He had started to warm up to showing you his writing, but he did it in his own way. He would leave notes around the house, little scraps of things he thought about when he thought about you.

            “My heart is thirsty for even a drop of you”

            “These words are red because I have never seen you in any other way”

            “I feel a hole in my heart and you are the only piece that fits”

            Every time you read another piece of his mind, your heart grew bigger and bigger. You didn’t know he was writing about you, you thought he talked about his nightmares, his torture, his past…but when you would see the small poems he left out for you, you knew he was better.

            “The spaces between my fingers make me think of you

            You seem to have a way of filling

            every emptiness I can imagine”        

            You surprised him with beautiful leather-bound journals, an array of fountain pens with multiple ink bottles, a way for him to not only write beautiful words, but to make them look beautiful too. Bucky had gorgeous handwriting, and he was more than happy to practice lettering and calligraphy. He even ventured into art, although you both knew he was already a well-trained artist like Steve.

            “I looked inside the cracks of you and found myself

            Hold me there. Let me beat through you.”

One night after coming back from work, you and him were cooking and he brought out one of the journals you had bought him, worn with his writing. He opened up to a page and showed you. After reading it, you let out a small gasp, because he captured the night before with such grace and beauty, you couldn’t believe it.

“In the body of this house

we shiver and quiver

Our gooseflesh has made friends with one another

Has come to know one another.

Here we lay and drink honey from each other’s collarbones

Lap up the sticky sweetness,

the wholeness

of it all

mutter, “stay”

in shoulder blades

whisper “okay”

in ribcages

And cross paths into the spaces between our fingers

And tangle limbs into the curvature of each other

And wonder,

“why did we ever think of leaving?”

He gently pulled your hand towards him and led you to the bedroom, where you saw a large canvas laying on the bed. You both approached it and he started explaining right away.

            “Whenever I would wake up from a nightmare or if I couldn’t sleep, I would start writing. It was all about you. I don’t know why, it just kind of happened to come out? Every time I was trying to shake myself out of those thoughts and think of something good, something happy, you would pop into my mind.”

            You reached out and touched the canvas, and you couldn’t believe your eyes.

            “So, I wanted to do something for you. You’ve been so good to me, doll. So patient, so caring, so sweet. And when I thought of this and started workin’ on it, it ended up being something soothing for me, too. The nightmares started to fade and I’ve been sleeping better than I have before.”

            Looking closer at the canvas, you saw that it was a black and white painted picture of you laughing. It was a shot that Bucky no doubt took of you months ago when you dragged him around town to lighten his mood. In the picture, your head was thrown back and your mouth wide open letting out a strong laugh.

            But when you closed in on it, you realized that all of the black parts, the shading, the outline of your person was done with the poems he wrote about you. Each little shadow, the curve of your eyes, the strands of your hair, was done with the words he had written, his lists, his nightmares, his declarations of love, his descriptions of your smile; everything he had filled in those journals was now standing proud as an image of you.

            You reached out and grabbed his face with your hands, planting a kiss on his lips that you hoped would show him what you were feeling.

            “Bucky, this is unbelievable…. I can’t wrap my head around this.” He smiled down at you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

            “Doll, you’re unbelievable. My life wouldn’t be the same without you. You helped me crawl out of my shell. While doing all of this, I realized that you are my solace.”

            You rested your head on his chest, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. He leaned down and inhaled your scent through your hair.     

            “You are my catharsis.” 

[peacefulwriter88]

I Turn To You

Prompt: The look in his eyes was something raw and haunting. She saw that same look every time she stared into the mirror.

Warnings: Fluffy and SMUTTY, just the way I like it. And plot I guess... sometimes I just can’t write smut without it :)

Tags: @bladebarnes whose a freaking writing genius and @sexylibrarian1 whose equally talented and encouraged me to start posting my writing

A/N: I LOVE Chris Beck. I don’t understand why there isn’t a lot of Beck fiction out there. He’s like one of the best characters Sebastian has played. Who wouldn’t like an intelligent, sassy nerdy guy who loves space and have the face and body of Sebastian? What else do you need in life?

This is my first shot for writing for Seb so I hope its received well to gauge if I should continue down this road.

He was different. At first, you had pegged it on the time you both had spent away from each other. Two years was a long time to not be around someone, even if it was inevitable. After you both had graduated from your masters programs, he had eagerly been accepted into NASA and you had gone off on your first archaeological dig. Before you had left, he had teased you, saying you were the next Lara Croft and you had fired back that trying to live out his Alien fantasy was never going to happen. No way he’d get selected to go into space. You were pulling his strings - of course he would and he did. Chris was brilliant. It would be ridiculous if he didn’t get selected.

He left three months later, for a journey that would take a year and a half of him away from you and you learn to deal with it. You spent time with his family. You sent him funny videos and wrote him letters you knew he wouldn’t read anytime soon. In return, he sent you videos and funny snippets reminding you that he hadn’t forgotten about you. 

You couldn’t expect more than that. After all, you both were only friends. He wasn’t tied down to you or you to him. It still didn’t help the butterflies from fluttering in your stomach whenever you got a video recording from him, those familiar blue eyes smiling at you as he floated in the air, speaking about how he spent his days and how much he missed you. 

You had loved him since that fateful day you ran into him freshman year in college. He was easy to love -cool blue eyes that drew you in, a smirk that challenged you at any opportunity, dark brown hair that you wanted to run your hands through. But he had made it clear that he only wanted to be friends. And you accepted that.

But now he was different.

He had asked you to move in with him before he left, saying he’d love the help with rent and that you would love Florida. You hated Florida. He knew that. But he also knew that you loved him enough to move down to the sticky climate, knowing that you could work anywhere as you free lanced about in your profession. It was bad enough he choose a profession that didn’t even allow him to call the people in his life. He didn’t want to spend his time on earth isolated from his family and friends. So you relented and moved in two days before he left. 

So, when you threw a surprise welcome party for when he came back, his family and close friends jumping from their hiding places as he walked into the spacious town home, you knew that something had changed. His smile didn’t reach his eyes and when he spoke it was low and weighted, the humor gone. 

Rather anyone picked up on it was beyond you. The party went through the motions of a party and it wasn’t until later, the sun setting and the air thick with humidity that you watched him cautiously. He was standing in the living room alone, having said goodbye to most of his guest, a beer in his hand as he looked out the window to your decorated backyard. 

You had been watching him so intently, slowly cleaning up around you that you didn’t hear his mom walk in, smiling at you.

“Thank you for inviting us. Its so nice to have him back home.”

You smile back at her, walking toward her for a hug. Ever since your parents have been gone, she had substituted in, taking you under her wing. Her arms gripped around you tighter, however, her small frame leaning up to your ear. 

“Tell me the minute you find out whats wrong with my boy.” she mumbles evenly and you nod, holding her back tightly.

When everyone is gone, you lean against a wall taking Chris in. He was handsome even when his face was plagued with worry, his jaw set as his plump lips uncharacteristically tugged in a frown and you wondered where his mind was. He had been distant for three months, but you had brushed it aside as home sickness. You thought the party would cure his sadness - rekindling his old self. 

You should have known better.

You bite your lip, taking a deep sigh before asking,

“Chris?”

He turns to you, looking at you for the first time all night and your breath catches in your throat. The look in his eyes was something raw and haunting. You saw that same look every time you stared into the mirror. It was the guilt you carried when you thought about your parents and how they had died years ago in a car accident, trying to get to you.

“What’s wrong?”

You don’t mean to ask it, the words hanging heavy in the air and his voice breaks, an octave above a whisper.  

“We almost lost someone….back when we were circling the moon. I messed up, miscalculated our distance from the next station and he ran into a satellite when trying to get back inside. He...he may not be able to walk again. ”

His face is stoic but you can see the pain behind his eyes and you walk closer to him and he takes a step away from him.

“Chris…” you say cautiously and he continues,

“I know...I know he’s alive and he’ll be okay but….I almost got him killed. I should have been more careful.”

His gripping the beer bottle title, his knuckles growing white around their edges and you lean your head to the side, shaking it slowly. 

“You’re human Chris. Sometimes things happen beyond your control. You’re not perfect. You’re not expected to be.”

The last words trigger him, and he turns toward the nearest wall and slams his fist against it, causing you to jump. 

You’ve never seen this side of him before.

“I’m always fucking about, kidding around and i almost fucked up our mission. Maybe…...maybe I’m not cut out for this.” he says the last part weakly and your racing toward him, shaking your head. 

“Chris you were born for this. You’re brilliant. Its okay to feel the way you’re feeling. That’s scary to have all that responsibility. I can’t even imagine being in your shoes.”

He refuses to look at you, his jaw set and you force his face down to look down on your own,

“Don’t ever quit this. You are meant for greatness. Take this as a motivator to get better, to hone in on your skills. But I’ll be damned if you quit this Beck. I’ll kill you before you even have the chance.”

You hadn’t realized the shift in the air as he looks at you, the way his hands had found their way on your waist until you stopped talking. You both stare at each other for what seems like minutes, until his eyes flick to your lips and he’s slowly bending down to you. 

An electrical current. That was how you would explain the feeling of his soft lips on your own, molding with yours with ease. Its slow at first, the both of you familiarizing yourself with the other until his tongue is skimming along your bottom lip and you groan, his tongue mingling with yours.  

“Damn Y/N…”

You smile, biting down on his bottom lip and he moans in pleasure, his hands traveling down your ass as he pushes you into his hard erection. You moan, rolling your head to the side as his mouth captures your neck, biting down on the sensitive flesh.

“Tell me what you want Y/N.” he mumbles against your skin, his hips rolling into your own and you yank his head back, looking into his eyes.

“You know what I want.” you say, your eyes glinting with lust and he curses underneath his breath, lifting you up as your legs wrap around his waist. He easily maneuvers through the home though he’s barely been in and finding your bedroom.

He throws you on the bed, grabbing behind his neck and easily taking off his shirt, and you take in his built body, drinking in his abs - ‘When the fuck did he get a six pack??’ you think to yourself-  and he smirks, pushing you down.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were drooling.”

You bite your lip, not ashamed of this admission as your hands run down his torso. When they find the rough fabric of his jeans, your hands quickly make haste of his belt, your hands expertly finding his buttons and loosening them. He stops you as your hand brushes against his erection, causing his breath to hitch as he grabs your wrist, placing them gently  above your head.

“Not so fast baby girl. I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time,” his lips brush against your right ear, his breath tickling along your nape as he bites your earlobe and your body involuntarily arches into him.

His free hand is skimming down your body, catching the hem of the sundress you had been wearing and dives underneath it, tugging the fabric up slowly.

“I want to enjoy every moment of this.”

Before you can protest his yanking the dress over your head before capturing your wrist again, keeping them in place as he takes in your body. You had opted out of wearing a bra today so he was privy to your exposed breast, watching them rise and fall quickly as you watched him in anticipation. Its only seconds before he’s dipping down and taking the fatty tissue in his mouth, his tongue trailing around your nipple before sucking the hardened stub. You moan loudly as he moves to your other side, his hips involuntarily grinding into your own. When he’s done he looks up at you, releasing your breast with a slobbery pop, the lines of his mouth tugged into a smile.

His mouth begins journeying down, his eyes never leaving yours and when he reaches the hem of your thong your wiggling in anticipation. He gives a heavy sigh before he’s parting your legs, his head getting lost between your thigh, inhaling your arousal. He gives a low growl that vibrates against you and you whine, thrusting your hips upwards. He stops you, his large hands situated on either side of your waist, holding you still as he takes another deep breath, planting his mouth over the thin fabric and sucking your flavor in.

“Chris…” you mumble, leaning up and tugging at his hair and he chuckles, his smile boyish and devilish at once as he pulls away from you, biting down on his lips.

“Tell me what you want baby girl.” he mutters, pulling at the thin material nestled on your hip and trailing them down your legs and you groan, falling back on the bed.

“Chris you know what I want.”

He tsks, taking another heavy sigh before nuzzling his face between your thighs, his head nudging against your clit and you yelp.

He chuckles, pulling back enough to look at you through his hooded eyes.

“Its been a while babe. You’re going to have to remind me.”

“I want you.” you whine again, frustrated that he has you submitting to him but not caring too much about how pathetic you sound at the moment.  He smiles, kissing you on your inner thigh.

“Where do you want me baby?”

“I want you everywhere.” you look down at him, your eyes desperate but his head has already dipped between your thighs, tongue licking up your folds before finding its mark on your small bud. You fall back, your hands finding a place his hair, tugging at the silky strands as your eyes fall to the  back of your head.

“Baby girl you are so wet.” he mumbles before inserting two of his fingers between your folds, deftly curving his fingers and finding that spot that has you coming undone around him.  He starts out slow, his fingers pumping into you as his mouth takes you in, sucking at your cunt as though its water. Its when he feels your body start to tremble, your voice cracking and your hands trying to push him away that he increases his pace, holding you down by your naval as you come into his mouth, your body thrashing against him. 

He takes his time milking you, lapping every inch of you, prolonging your orgasm until your voice is raw and he pulls his finger out, making quick work of his jeans before hovering over you.

“I promise Y/N, tomorrow I will make love to you until your body is unable to move,” he whispers, his lips grazing against your own as he aligns himself at your entrance, “But god Y/N I need to fuck you.”

You’re not given a chance to reply. His cocks enters you, gliding to your center until he bottoms out and his mouth pops open in lust.  

“Fuck your tight Y/N…” he mumbles, his right hand falling beside your head as the other pushes your right leg up. He pulls out and slams into you again and you scream, your overly sensitive pussy dripping down your leg.

Your hands grip his back, your nails digging into his skin as hips move against you faster, causing you to scream out his name. He sits up then, puling you towards him and this new angle has him hitting your g spot, and you bite down on his shoulders, your body beginning to tremble, feeling the pressure building between your legs. 

He senses it to and with his free hand he reaches down to your clit, playing with the sensitive bud and you throw your head back as your walls tighten around him.

“Shiiittt….” you gasp and he falls back on the bed, keeping you firmly above him as your ride out your orgasm.

“That’s right baby. Come all over my big cock for me.” he moans, his hips driving up into you as you grab your nipple, twisting it harder as you ride yourself on him.

Its only seconds later that you feel his hands dig into the flesh of your hips, his pelvis ramming into you before he finds his release, screaming out your name in reverence and you fall forward, hiding your head in the crock of his neck.

You close your eyes, taking in this moment as your breath even out and then Chris is pulling out of you, pushing you gently to the side before walking to the bathroom to grab some tissue. You watch him from the comfort of the bed as he walks toward you, cleaning up the mess between your legs and throwing the messy material away.

You sigh contently as he dips into the bed, grabbing at you and you give a lazy smile, positioning yourself until your lying comfortably in his arms.

“So…. that was fun.” he finally says and you chuckle, looking back up at him.

“Don’t ruin this Beck.”

He gives you another smile, pulling you closer to him.

“Ruin what?”

“The moment. Don’t say some stupid shit like how you don’t want to ruin our friendship so this has to be a one time thing. Just...just let me have this.”

He watches you for a beat, the same shit eating grin on his face, before his lips kiss you on the forehead.

“Who said I just want this to be a one time thing,” he squeezes you tighter as he mumbles, “I’m not going anywhere Y/N”

[dividedwecantfall]

Rebellious

A/N: This is for @bookybuns writing challenge. It’s a bit more scandalous than my usual writing but still pretty safe for work.

"Are you going to keep ditching me?" Peggy called from around the corner. You had managed to stay away from her for several hours last night, and now she was steamed. "If I want to," you shrugged, undressing to take a bath. "Depends on if you're going to keep being a prick." "With all due respect, your highness," the agent stated curtly, "your fiancé hired me to protect you until the wedding." "Ah, yes," you sighed, swirling the water around you, "this old man that my dad is so fond of. I'd rather spend the rest of my life with you following me around than on display for some pompous monarch." Up until now, the conversation had been through a curtain for your privacy. But at your last remarks, Peggy had thrown it aside. She walked straight up to you, had you been dressed, you were sure she would have picked you up by your collar. "Maybe it will teach you some dignity, heaven knows you could use some." You started to stand up, now completely exposing yourself. You didn't care if she saw. She wasn't the first woman and probably not the last. "Your stuffy rules aren't exactly my thing." You turned and looked back at the tub behind you, "I'm not expected to drain my own bath. Why! I'll be royalty soon enough." She bit her lip, obviously wanting to parry, but not knowing how. You chuckled to yourself as you slipped into your underwear. You were playing her like a violin. If this was to be your last month, you were going to milk everything out of it. "You're going to be late for class," she huffed, drying her hands. "Oh, we have plenty of time," you laughed, trying to decide which sweater best complimented your eyes. "They can't do anything without me." Peggy grabbed one of the sweaters and hung it back up in the closet. "There, now get dressed." You waited for her to leave, then promptly put on the sweater she had put away. You fixed your hair in the mirror before sliding into your sneakers and heading out the door. Peggy had insisted on driving you, and she was already so worked up that even you didn't dare to argue. So you messed with the radio, changing the channel right as she got used to it. She swatted your hand away and muttered some curse under her breath. "I wasn't kidding about the whole respect thing. You can't just go around expecting people to do as you wish." "Dollface, I'm famous. I can do anything I want." You noticed the car had stopped at an intersection and figured it was now or never. "And I want you." Before Peggy could respond, you pulled her in kissing her passionately. You felt a bit of a tug, but not like she was trying to escape, she was pulling you in closer. You didn't know how long the exchange lasted, but it was ended when the car behind you honked, alerting you that you had right of way. You sat back, grinning like an idiot, as Peggy stomped on the gas and rushed forward. She was probably hoping the awkwardness would be left in the dust, but it wasn't. "You are getting married next week," was all she managed to say. "People have affairs all the time. Plus I've been probing you for months. You wanted that just as badly as I did." “Yes, yes they do. That doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.” “Yeah, well what do you know?” Peggy didn’t say anything. She just drove, her eyes not leaving the road. She stopped in front of your lecture hall. “See you, later gorgeous,” you laughed. “Move it or you’ll be late,” she smiled, smacking your butt as you walked past. “Hey!” You shouted, over your shoulder. “Save it for tonight.”

[captainmarvels]

I don't know if you've seen it, but I'm in the middle of a fic called Give for Blade's #bladehits2kchallenge!

omg what, i did not!! i’m gonna try and find it right now lol

[ohwhatamessiam]

Give  -Epilogue

Summary: Bucky and (Y/N) had an amazing yet brief relationship in Bucharest before all hell broke loose. Two years later they reconnect in a bar in Brooklyn, but things have changed and neither are the same people they were before. Will their relationship survive or is a break up inevitable? 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Language, brief fighting, lots of painful heartbreak, nothing but torturing my precious readers. POV switching for Bestie!SamWilson and the other Avengers that make an appearance.

Author’s Note: The actual finale to Give, my submission to @bladebarnes‘s #bladehits2kchallenge. It’s been quite a run, and there is a sequel in the works (which I have to write now that my dumbass already made a playlist). The sequel will feature the reader in a relationship with a woman I’m not straight, my characters rarely are too so if you’re not cool with that and want to be untagged (if you were part of the previous list) tell me. If you’re cool with that, send me an ask to get added to the tag list. As always, a huge thanks to @lostboyinneverland for keeping me going when it comes to writing and also for letting me make you feel things for the sake of fiction. Here’s the playlist for all of Give. Send me feedback, and I’ll hopefully have the sneak peek of the sequel up in a day or two. Thanks for all the love and support everyone! I’ll see y’all soon.

Give | Masterlist

The door down the hall slammed so hard it shook the walls, interrupting Sam Wilson from his binge-session of watching The Get Down. He moved to his own door, checking to see who it came from. The shadows moving under the crack of Bucky’s door, accompanied by smothered sobs, told Sam all he needed to know. He thought of going to him, telling him everything would be okay, eventually, but he thought it wiser to leave him alone for now.

Closing his own door, he fished his phone off his night stand. Scrolling through his recent messages until he found her contact name, Plum Girl, as he’d so affectionately taken to calling her after she’d ranted to him about how much seeing plums at the grocery store made her want to cry tears of happiness and longing. They were Bucky’s favorite fruit, they both knew that by now, and although they’d become good friends over the last couple years he’d always viewed her through the lense that she was Bucky’s heart. That she was a piece of his redemption.

Sam couldn’t trust Bucky before cryostasis, but hearing how she talked about him for those years softened his feelings towards Bucky. He still only trusted him when he had to, being kicked off a helicarrier and nearly killed by the guy multiple times didn’t make for an easy friendship, but (Y/N) had helped Sam see him in a different light.

Typing slowly and then erasing it, he tried to figure out what to say to the girl who just left the love of her life. He settled for all that would come to his mind.

Sam: You did it.

Plum Girl: It needed to be done.

Sam: Guess I gotta change your name in my phone now.

A couple hours later there was a series of loud knocks on Sam’s door. He rolled out of bed with an angry groan and yanked his door open, “What?”

The overwhelming scent of alcohol wafted from Bucky, forcing Sam to pull back from the doorway. “I want her number,” he demanded, pushing himself into Sam’s room. “I know you have it, so just make this easy and give it to me.”

“Make this easy? You’re drunk Bucky, leave her alone.”

Cool metal snaked around Sam’s throat, slamming his entire body against the wall of his room. “I just need to talk to her. I don’t-, don’t understand why s-she did that, and I need her to explain.”

Sam braced himself against the wall before kicking Bucky away from him. Bucky stumbled, trying to regain his balance before swinging at Sam. Sam dunked before grabbing Bucky around the waist and shoving him hard against the hallway wall across from his door.

“She broke up with you, don’t bother her.”

“She had no right to s-Sam, I love her and she loves me,” Bucky slurred, moving toward Sam. Steve and Wanda’s doors opened as they investigated what was happening.

“Man, where do you get off thinking that?” Sam snapped, pushing Bucky against the wall again as his anger took over. “(Y/N) waited for you, for two years! Every night was hell for her. Scott said she’d wake up in the middle of the night crying, and that was just when she was able to get any sleep. She tried to act like nothing was wrong, but these were the worst years of her life. Two years might not seem like anything to you super soldiers, but to us normal humans she was in agony for a long time.”

“Sam-,” Steve warned, appearing at their side and trying to separate the men.

“How would Scott know?” Bucky growled at them.

This time Sam turned to Steve, forcing him to answer. They exchanged head tilts and looks before Steve scoffed and gave in. “After she was assaulted last year, we had him keep an eye on her. He ended up staying on her couch for a few weeks and she knew about it. Nothing happened, he was just an additional safety precaution.”

“You g-guys didn’t bother to tell me about her getting attacked, or that s-she was training with Natasha,” Bucky spat out as he turned his anger on Steve. He shoved him hard, causing Steve to hit the opposite wall. “And you didn’t t-tell me you were monitoring her, having someone stay with her. I should have known about all this.”

“You were frozen, asshole,” Sam jabbed as he clenched his fists. “What were we supposed to do? Thaw you out so you could go be with her and risk all of us being found? We were fugitives! Scott only got to stay with her because he could dodge security getting into the US. Wanda met her because she was the only one who could get there fast enough to protect her. Steve and I spent months trying to figure out ways to get into the country, just so we could check on her a few times a year to then have to figure out how to get back out.”

Bucky was at a loss for words, trying to think of something to say back, but when he failed to find anything, he started swinging.

Wanda reached a hand out, freezing him where he stood, his fist just mere inches from Steve’s face. “I won’t let you move until you stop fighting us,” she warned, allowing Steve to move away from Bucky’s stilled assault.

They let him stay like that for a moment, watching his breathing calm. “Are you done being angry?” Steve asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Bucky nodded, and Wanda dropped her hand. Catching himself against the wall, Bucky let out a deep breath. “I just want her fucking number.”

“Well, you’re not getting it,” Sam smirked as he tilted his head.

“Fine,” Bucky growled, pushing himself away from the wall. He moved down the hallway quickly, getting away from his friends and closer to more alcohol. He bumped into Steve, pushing past him and Wanda to get through. “I’ll find her myself.”

I’d gotten the text from Sam at 2 am, warning, He left the compound, said he’d try to find you. We didn’t tell him where you’re staying but you know he’s resourceful. A minute later he added, and drunk. I hadn’t gotten any sleep, but the thought of hearing a heartbroken Bucky speak forced me even more awake.

It took him almost two hours to find me, and as he reached my door he knocked once softly and whispered my name. I stayed still, hoping he wouldn’t even hear me breathing. He knocked and called my name three more times, each time getting louder than the last. When he gave up on me answering, he slid his back down my door and I heard him unscrew the lid on a bottle. There was the swish of liquid moving as the bottle was turned upside down. He was still drinking.

“I hope this is actually your room,” he mused, speaking in his normal, low voice. “I had to do a lot of flirting with the girl at the front desk to get this number, but I don’t think she lied to me.”

I shifted upward in my bed, pulling my knees into my chest. That girl was a goner. I knew how Bucky flirted and I was sure drunk him had pulled out all the stops.

“Natasha told me where you were staying this afternoon, before…everything.” He took another drink. “She thought I’d be ending my night with you, here, in a different way.”

Nat didn’t have the same context to our relationship that Steve or Sam did. And Sam full and well knew what Bucky was walking into, even warning me that it might be a little harsh to do it so quickly. I hadn’t brought it up to Steve, but I was sure he had his suspicions.

“I just, I don’t get it. Was it really that bad without me for two years?” He paused, “Sam said you woke up crying when you did sleep, and then you didn’t sleep the rest of the time.” I nodded to myself, knowing he couldn’t see me. “I guess that’s the bad part of being frozen all the time, I never have a concept of time.”

The bottle swished again and I heard a small “ahhh” come from him as he gulped. I willed myself to stay where I was, knotting my hands together and rocking myself gently.

“I’m sorry about it all. About not being there, about not talking to you, about leaving you alone. I didn’t think about how you-, you’d feel about it. I just did what I thought was best for everyone.” His head thudded against my door as he rested his body against it. “I just, I don’t understand why you don’t want to make this work. I’m back. I’m here. We can be together now.”

I bit my lip to stop myself from answering.

“I-, I spent the last two months getting de-programmed and, and they kept telling me to focus on something positive that would come from all this. It was you. I was thinking about you, and us, being together. Being happy without fear of the asset showing up. Not worrying about hurting you.”

The bottle’s contents sloshed again.

“I guess, I shouldn’t have worried so much about the asset. I hurt you without that shit being involved.”

I laid down on my side, keeping myself tucked in the fetal position. Urging myself not to cry, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried not to picture how sad he must look outside my door.

“I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. I-, I just guess I still have a lot to work on. Having relationships and being a person is kinda new all over again. I’m not that monster anymore, so I guess I need to learn how to be a human again.”

Rocking back and forth, I fought every instinct to go to him.

“I miss you though, I mean, fuck, you’re 20 feet from me and it feels like you’re on the other side of the planet. I miss your laugh, and your smile, and your lips. You teasing me about plums,” he chuckled, the swish of liquor distracting him for only a moment before he continued in a softer tone, “and your smell, how soft you are.”

The glass bottle clanked against his teeth and I felt tears running down my cheeks. Raising a hand to my mouth, I made sure no sounds came from me.

“I miss your faith in me the most I think. You believed in me at a time when I didn’t think anyone would again. You trusted me when I wasn’t even sure I could trust myself.”

A yawn left his mouth and I tried to quit the hot tears from pouring from my eyes, but they wouldn’t stop.

“I guess this is how you felt for the last two years. I get it now, it’s really shitty. But we can be together, even if it’s not how you want it to be. We could still be happy, (Y/N).”

He threw the remains of the bottle back and the empty bottle thumped against the hallway carpet.

“I love you so much, I really do. More than anyone in my entire long, screwed up life. And I know you still love me. We could be so in love, together, finally.”

I heard his body slide down the wall and him roll onto his back. His fingers stroked the door as I heard him choke back a sob.

“I want you in my life so bad. You’re all I want from this fucked up life. I deserve you after all this. I deserve to be happy with you.”

Another yawn came through my door as his knuckles traced the design of the wood.

“But I can’t forget about all I did. I know it wasn’t me, but I still did all those things. I-, I can’t just pretend like that’s okay. I have to work to fix that. I have to help people now. It’s the right thing to do. It’s what I need to do in order to heal.”

He rolled onto his side, his jeans scratching the carpet.

“But I’m not okay with all or nothing. I can’t do that. I need something else, something more. I don’t know who I’ll be without you now.” He paused, breathing becoming more shallow. “I may be heartless and cold again. I may not care anymore.”

I pulled a pillow between my legs and buried my face into it, smothering every feeling and word I wanted to say in it.

“That’s a lie. I’m always gonna care. Maybe not about other things, but always about you. I’m not okay with any of this, (Y/N). I’m not. But it won’t stop me from loving you with every part of me.”

His breathing became louder as he relaxed, letting sleep take over. Just as he drifted off to unconsciousness he whispered, “I love you. I’m never gonna stop loving you, (Y/N). But I guess that’s all I can do.”

I stayed locked in my position, waiting for any other words to leave his mouth, but nothing came out but soft snores. I wished I could go to the door and peek at him sleeping peacefully, but I knew I’d fold. And if I wanted to be able to live my life without the fear and loneliness that depended on Bucky, I needed to leave him. This emotional hell wasn’t good for me. He was a handsome super soldier, with a good heart and kind soul. He’d find someone else to be happy with. And it hurt that it wouldn’t be me, but the pain softened knowing that he would be happy again, eventually. Whether that was through being a hero or falling in love. Bucky being happy was all I really wanted for him.

After another couple minutes I texted Sam that he’d fallen asleep and that other hotel goers would be waking up soon. 

He answered, Wanda and I will get him. I’m sorry about all of this.

I put my phone down and rolled onto my back, wiping the leftover tears from my face. I sighed, willing sleep to take over as I relaxed my muscles. A few minutes later I whispered to myself, and to Bucky, “I’m sorry about all this too.”

Tags: @irishdancr24 @fangirlisms-22 @suz-123 @plan3tmadison @tequilavet @yo-yo-bro-bro

[ohwhatamessiam]

Give  -Part 7

Summary: Bucky and (Y/N) had an amazing yet brief relationship in Bucharest before all hell broke loose. Two years later they reconnect in a bar in Brooklyn, but things have changed and neither are the same as they were before. Will their relationship survive or is a break up inevitable?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Language, mentions of sexual harassment/assault, a lot of feelings but mostly painful ones. We’re back in the present, finally.

Author’s Note: It’s me again, back with the last installment of another chapter of my submission to @bladebarnes‘s #bladehits2kchallenge inspired by Give by You Me At Six. I already wrote an epilogue featuring some of the Avengers, and hopefully that’ll be up tomorrow night. You’ll be getting bestie!SamWilson in that which, since I’m writing a sequel, will be important to the plot of that series. No beta for this one, I’m sorry if it sucks. I love pain and suffering so this chapter and the epilogue are going to hurt bad, sorry again. Here’s the Spotify playlist for all 7 (technically 8) chapters. I love feedback, so let me know what you think and if you want to be tagged in the epilogue and sequel! 

Give | Masterlist

My mind was far away when Bucky unlocked his limbs from my own and guided my hips back to my stool. As he sat facing me he slid a covered hand past my knee, noticing how my gaze stayed on him but my focus was elsewhere. Giving my thigh a small squeeze, he asked, “Are you okay?”

Closing my eyes and forcing a thin smile across my lips, I nodded. He turned to the counter, having noticed how the bartender had been watching me out of the corner of his eye. He waved him over and as the bartender realized what was happening, his eyes went wide and snapped back to me. Peeling Bucky’s hand off my leg, I gripped it between my fingers and nodded at the green eyed man.

He stood in front of us hesitantly, hands barely touching the edge of the counter. I broke the awkward silence with a polite smile, “I’ll have another, and he’ll have…”

I glanced at Bucky, “I’ll uh, have a Sam Adams.” The bartender looked back at me, eyes still cautious but I nodded to encourage him and he left us to fill our orders.

“Sam Adams?” I asked, turning back to the man I’d been missing for the last two years.

“Yeah, Steve’s introduced me to more American beers,” he shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips.

“That doesn’t surprise me at all,” I chuckled as he interlocked his fingers with mine. The bartender returned with our drinks, and I polished off the one I’d been nursing before sliding the empty glass to him. He took it, still analyzing the situation in front of him, but he left instead of making me shoo him off.

Bucky used his left hand to take a drink before turning back to me, “Is he into you or something?”

I shook my head, nearly laughing at both his suggestion and how anxious I felt. “No, he just noticed how nervous I was and wanted to make sure I was okay.”

Bucky took another gulp of his beer before setting the bottle back on the counter, and turning his whole body back to me. “Did you get my flowers and note?” he asked, his tone eager as he smiled.

“Yes, Steve got them to me a month after I made it back to the US.” Which had been over two months since Bucky had disappeared from my life.

I knew he’d meant it as a romantic gesture, he always found an excuse to bring me flowers in Bucharest, but it just felt bittersweet. Sure, I was overjoyed and grateful to learn that he was alive, but a simple note that read, It’s not safe for either of us right now, but hopefully one day it will be. I love you. –– JBB only made my heart hurt worse. Two months without him already felt like someone was slowly squeezing my heart between their hands, tightening their hold every time I thought of him, and making it harder for me to think or breathe.

“I’m sorry, that was the only thing I could do,” he apologized, his cold clothed fingers brushing my cheek and sending a chill up my spine.

“It’s okay, I understand,” I nodded, leaning my head into his palm. “But that was over two years ago, and it’s been radio silence since then.”

“They put me back on ice for a while.” His hand dropped back into his lap as his shoulders hunched slightly. “It was better that way, for everyone.”

“I figured that’s what happened,” feeling the frown tug at my lips and I lifted my glass to my lips to cover it.

“I don’t know if you heard, but the asset was reactivated Berlin.” He said the words as if they were fact, but his eyes dropped from mine and the words warped into a confession of guilt. “I could have killed everyone there.”

My self control disappeared as I reached for both of his hands, enveloping them in my own. “But you didn’t, Steve made sure you didn’t.”

“How do you know that?” his eyes shot back to mine as suspicion furrowed his brows.

“Uh, Sam may have alluded to what happened in detail. Steve only gave me the tiniest amount of information.” I shrugged, searching for the right words. “But Steve would do whatever it takes to protect you, and that even meant protecting you from yourself.”

Steve cared for Bucky so much that he would do anything in his power to make sure Bucky could live with himself, and over the last two years that had become very, very apparent to me. Sam making comments about the extremes Steve was willing to go to just to save Bucky only confirmed what I already knew.

Bucky’s eyes analyzed my expression, trying to understand what I was thinking just from watching me. “Did Steve say that to you?”

“No, no. As much time as I’ve spent with him, which is not that much, he wouldn’t bring up anything that happened in Europe. I had to ask about what I’d heard from the news or Sam, and he wouldn’t expand on anything just nod or shake his head.” Bucky sighed, relaxing back into his seat. “But you know that none of that matters to me. I’m just happy you’re alive and still you.”

His eye twinkled as he stared at me with a smirk on his lips. “I don’t know how I ended up with you in my life, but I’m happy you’re here.”

I bit my lip at his words. He’d gone through hell for over 70 years and then just so happened to slip past me in a stairwell. I’d been the one to pursue him in Bucharest. The Bucky that emerged from the ice appeared to have more confidence in himself, and his fingers swirled circles onto my knee as his eyelids drooped to my lips. After staring at my mouth for longer than might have been publically acceptable, he pushed his head back so he could look in my eyes, “So tell me what’s happened in the last two years for you.”

I told him about the new job I had on the East coast, spending more time with my friends, and that I was volunteering at an animal shelter. He alternated between pouting his lips and smiling with them as his eyes carefully watched me.

“It’s all been pretty civilian-ish. Nothing too exciting.” I’d purposely left out all the sleepless nights spent with every feeling I had about him clashing inside me at once, and the bad days where I just felt empty and motivationless.

His fingers slipped through my hair as he moved it in the light, “This is new, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I dyed it a couple months ago. Yours is kinda new too. Or is it vintage?”

He laughed at my joke and dropped his fingers from me so he could rub his chin and cheek. “Yeah, it makes me more recognizable to the public, but it also distances me from the asset. I’m still trying to get used to it.”

I finished my drink, placing it back on the counter and catching it as the pooled condensation from the glass caused it to slip towards Bucky. “Oh that reminds me,” he started as he straightened in his seat with curiosity. “Wanda told me to tell you hi, and Natasha wanted to make sure you were still doing okay.”

I smiled to myself, eyes dropping to his feet. “Tell the girls I said hi, and that I’m still doing alright.”

“How do you know them?” his tone was more pointed than I expected.

“Uh, well I trained with Nat for a while,” I shrugged, angling my body towards the bar a bit more.

His brows shot up, “Wait, what? Why would you need to train?”

I felt the heat rising in my chest but was grateful no one had mentioned the assault I’d experienced the year before. It wasn’t Hydra related so I’d hoped Bucky wouldn’t have to find out about it, but clearly that was a mistake. “Sam set me up with a panic button after you were, uh, frozen. It was meant to be an emergency sort of thing if I was being followed.”

His eyes stayed wide and focused on my face, “And?”

“And well, I was at a concert one night by myself and a guy in the crowd tried to get a little handsy, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle. I bent his finger back and told him to get the fuck away from me. Apparently he didn’t take rejection well because he rounded up a few friends and they followed me to my car after the show.”

“Did he-.”

“No,” I shook my head. “I hit the button the second I realized I was being followed and I tried everything I could remember from my self defense classes to get them off of me. Lots of kneeing, elbowing, and going for their noses and eyes, and I landed some good hits. I think I even broke one of their noses, but I was outnumbered. Just as I got shoved down on my knees with a hand around my throat Wanda showed up. I don’t really know how she got there so fast since Sam told me they weren’t even in the US at that time, but I’m guessing she used Vision’s powers or something. She threw two of the guys clear across the alley and gave me the opening to headbutt the one restraining me and punch the dick who started all of it in the groin.”

“You headbutted someone?” he asked incredulously, but his eyes were still filled with the same concern, which was his best attempt at masking anger.

“Hey, he had me restrained by my wrists and neck on my knees. He was bent over to try to keep me down and the second his grip loosened on my neck I just threw my head back. It left a nasty bump but it was worth it.”

“So Natasha taught you more self defense even though she was on the radar while everyone else was off?”

“Wanda stayed with me for a day or so until she could safely leave, and apparently Steve sent Nat an encrypted message about meeting me at a certain place and time to discuss training. We hit it off and I worked with her on and off for a month or two.”

“So you just became more of a badass when I was gone?” he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“It was just an extra safety protocol. She didn’t need to know who I was to you, or you to me, just that I needed to know how to defend myself. She never asked any other questions.”

“Is there anything else I missed that no one bothered to tell me about?”

I sighed, hearing the anger wavering in his voice, “Bucky, the only reason no one mentioned it is because I didn’t want you to worry about it. We made it away safely and I’m okay. That’s what matters.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that it happened and I wasn’t there for you,” his anger had turned inward, and his hands clenched into fists.

I held his fists in my hands, rubbing my thumbs over his gloved ones. “You did what you thought was best for everyone, and I, nor anyone else can blame you for that.” His jaw relaxed and his fingers unlocked under mine. “Plus, Steve didn’t just let those guys get away. I think they got exposed for some other shitty things and all had varying prison sentences.”

“If I had just known, or been told, I could have done some-.”

“Those guys aren’t worth your anger now, and I know you’ve been busy these last two months. You being back and feeling in control is more important.”

His eyes softened as his fingers brushed over my own. “How did you know I’ve been out of the ice for 2 months?”

“I-, I kinda made Steve promise to tell me the second something changed with you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you sooner.”

“Don’t be,” I said, but internally I wanted to know why. Why had he made me wait to hear from him for another 2 months?

“So, where do we go from here?” I asked, keeping my eyes locked on our hands.

His left hand hooked under my chin, forcing my focus to his face. His eyes were filled with warmth and love, reminding me of our night in Bucharest together and how he’d stared at me then. “I wanna be with you, I want to make up for lost time.”

My heart nearly skipped a beat and I tried not to hold my breath, “Would you try to fit back into civilian life or would you stay with the Avengers like you have been?”

“I’ve been thinking about it, and I have these abilities, this training. I don’t know if I could get a job in the real world, if could fit back in.” His hand moved to my shoulder, massaging my muscles, which I hadn’t realized were tensed. “I think it’s best I use what I have and try to do some good in the world. Especially after all the bad I’ve done in the last 70 years. I have a lot to make up for.”

“So you’d stay in New York with the rest of the team?” As I said the words, I wished I could take them back. I had him again and I didn’t want to lose him, but being an Avenger was a dangerous full time job and I’d be living over 8 hours away from him still.

“Yea, I think it’ll be good for me there.” And as happy as I was that he could be with people who knew him and would give him a fresh start, everything I’d planned before he walked in tonight came rushing back.

My throat felt dry, and the rawness that remained after all the whisky I’d drank became too uncomfortable. “If you’re there, then you’re still going to be pretty far from me.”

His hand stilled on my shoulder as his eyes narrowed, “I’ll see you all the time. They have planes that’ll get me between quickly, and the rest of the time we can talk on the phone.”

I shook my head and felt his hands leave my body. “You’ll be training when you’re not on missions, and there’s more shit happening out there than you think. People are going to need your help, and you won’t be able to just pick a phone up at any time.”

“How are you so sure?”

“How do you think I got in touch with Sam and Steve the last two years? Do you think I was just calling them whenever I needed to talk?” anger boiled inside me, but not at Bucky. I was angry with myself that I thought this would be any different than the last two years had been. “No, I’d send texts to their burner cells and I would wait days to get answers. They needed to stay off the grid to keep safe and that won’t suddenly change. There’s people who want to target you all, and they’ll do whatever they can to draw you out.”

“But we’re all back on the grid again.”

“Sure, I could call a secure line to Nat’s office at headquarters, but when she wasn’t there I wouldn’t get an answer until she got back. It won’t be any different.”

“I’ll make sure it’ll be different,” both of his hands spread across my thighs, attempting to soothe me but it did nothing.

“You say that, but I know better. And on top of the lack of communication you’ll be out there fighting people. I’ll have to live everyday hoping you don’t get killed!” I knew my voice grew louder as I said the words, panic already pulling at my heart. His eyes widened and I tried my best to lower my voice, “The last two years were bad enough not hearing from you, but at least I had Steve’s reassurances you that you were completely safe.”

“Doll, nothing’s gonna happen to m-.”

“You can’t promise me that.” A harshness had entered my voice and his jaw set into a line as he removed his hands from me. “You can’t, and I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep waiting around for you.”

“Wh-, what are you saying?”

“This might be selfish of me, an-, and I hate this, but I need to think about myself.”

“(Y/N)...,” Bucky whispered, his eyes wide with fear.

“I want you to do what’s right for you, but I need to do the same for me.” How I forced the words from my lips I had no clue, but they spilled out, tearing me apart even more with every new word. “To do what’s right for me, you need to commit to something. This is gonna be hard, for both of us, but-, but I need either all of you, or nothing.”

“I can’t-, I want to be with you. I don’t want to live without you,” his eyes brimmed with tears as he spoke. “But I can’t ignore what I did. And I don’t think I can live with myself if I don’t try to fix part of that.”

I swallowed and dropped my eyes to my shaking hands. Flattening them against my legs I took in a deep breath, trying to keep my emotions in control. “Then this is it Bucky.”

“No,” he whimpered, sounding so powerless that I nearly hugged him.

Instead I forced myself off my barstool and reached for my wallet. “I wish you nothing but the best. A long life of happiness.” I placed my money on the counter for the drinks and turned back to him, “I really hope you’ll be okay with this someday.”

“I won’t.” The words felt like venom but I knew he was only upset. One day he’d understand why I had to do this. I pivoted on my heel, starting to move around his body but his hand stopped me, grabbing my wrist to keep me there. “No.”

I sighed, still trying to stop myself from crying. I looked into his eyes and ran a hand over his hair before settling it on his cheek. My heart felt like it went still as I leaned in, giving him a soft, passionate kiss on his lips. His grip loosened on my wrist and he held my face with his other hand. The burn behind my eyes and in my throat didn’t go away, but my lips worked against his and I felt like I was home again, if only for a second.

Pulling back from his mouth, I pressed our foreheads together and brushed a tear from his cheek. “Goodbye Bucky,” I whispered, staring into his light blue eyes for one last time. My hand dropped from his face and I straightened my spine, forcing my legs to carry me away from him. As I reached the door I felt a prick of reassurance. It was so small, but it was something I could try to cling to through the storm swirling inside me. I pushed the door open and walked out of the bar, walking away from Bucky Barnes for the first and last time.

Tags: @irishdancr24 @lostboyinneverland @fangirlisms-22 @plan3tmadison @tequilavet @suz-123 @yo-yo-bro-bro

[ohwhatamessiam]

Give  -Part 6

Summary: Bucky and (Y/N) had an amazing yet brief relationship in Bucharest before all hell broke loose. Two years later they reconnect in a bar in Brooklyn, but things have changed and neither are the same as they were before. Will their relationship survive or is a break up inevitable?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Language, fluff, and some heartbreak. Sorry this one might hurt. 

Author’s Note: Hi again! This is part 6 of my submission to @bladebarnes​‘s #bladehits2kchallenge inspired by the song Give by You Me At Six. As usual 1st person reader, and this is the last of flashback-ville! A thank you, I love you, and a let’s-go-see-some-bands-together-in-November(?) to @lostboyinneverland​ for beta-ing me. We’re coming to the end guys, only one more to go! I have had an idea for a sequel but y’all let me know if you want it (or maybe I’ll just end up writing it I don’t know.) Here’s my Spotify playlist to listen to while reading the entire fic. Hopefully this turned out okay, and let me know your thoughts!

Give | Masterlist

Light hit my face, flashing bright behind my eyelids and warming my skin. I rolled to my side, needing to escape the glare of the sun but found something harder than a pillow under my head. My eyelashes fluttered as my vision started working again and a soft chuckle came from above me.

Tilting my head the slightest bit I caught Bucky watching me, a pleasant smile on his lips and a loving look in his eyes. I smiled, wrapping my arm around his waist and molding my body into his side. I’d apparently been sleeping with my head against his chest because as I moved my cheek, my lips brushed against his skin. Lifting my body, I stretched to find his mouth and was grateful for his warm fingers hooking under my chin and guiding my lips the rest of the way. The kiss was soft, affectionate, and the perfect way to start my day.

“If that’s how you say good morning babe, I think I’m gonna have to spend the night more often,” I spoke against his chest, resting my head near his heart.

“I’d like that,” he smiled, metal fingers stroking my hair. I sighed onto his skin and closed my eyes, settling back into his body. His metal thumb stroked my cheek as I drifted back to sleep.

It was too soon when Bucky squeezed my arm and whispered, “We should get up doll. We can’t stay in bed all day.”

I knew he was right but I also never wanted to leave his side. Never wanted to be without his warmth, his smell, and his skin again. “Why not?”  I whined against his rib cage.

“Your stomach’s been growling for the last 10 minutes,” he chuckled. “As much as I want to stay here all day, we both need to eat something eventually.”

“Fine,” I groaned, lifting my head from his body, “What do you have to eat?” With daylight illuminating his apartment, I could see he’d been living here a while. Somehow the place was in even worse shape than my own, with cracked tiles and horribly peeling wallpaper. But the old fridge, coffee brewer, array of mismatched dishes, and bag of chips sitting on top of the fridge told me he’d done his best to make it home.

“Not a whole lot.” He rolled off the bed, leaving me to find my shirt on the ground. “Do you have anything in your apartment?” he called as he rummaged through his closet. He emerged with a black short sleeve shirt and pair of dark wash jeans on, and his arms in a red henley he was pulling over his head.

“I think I have a few eggs left over, a partial loaf of bread, and possibly some yogurt.” As I stood up, I noticed the newspapers taped over his balcony door and windows.

Perched on the edge of his loveseat, he pulled on a pair of socks and watched me try to find my shoes. “Some fresh fruit would go well with the toast or the yogurt,” he answered, a sly smirk playing on his lips. I found my shoes in the hall, accompanied by two shining objects.

“It would,” I nodded, picking up both my kitchen knife and a smaller combat knife. “You should probably put this away.” I handed him the weapon, noticing his gulp and quick turn to the counter to find its sheath.

He concealed and secured it around his ankle before pulling on his boots, and reaching for his black baseball hat. “I’ll go run to the fruit stand and get something.”

“You mean you’ll get plums?” I tilted my head and smiled at him, holding the blade of my kitchen knife downward.

“Maybe,” he blushed. He tugged his gloves on and jacket before meeting me at his door. “But they’re my favorite.” Pausing directly in front of me, his hands held my face, covered thumbs caressing my cheeks and I wished I could melt under his touch. I snaked a hand out to his hip, pulling him closer to me.

“I know they are,” I whispered, my lips brushing his cheek. He turned his head, finding my lips with his own and our mouths worked together in a moment of fervent passion. The bill of his hat pushed back from his face as I rose onto my toes.

Pulling back from my mouth he grinned, “They’re almost as sweet as you.” I couldn’t help the tug at my heart or the flush on my cheeks. I peppered his face with small kisses, only stopping when I reached his smiling lips. A covered hand slid down to my hip, gripping me against him and deepening the kiss. I welcomed him in, savoring the way his scruff brushed against my lips and his tongue teased mine. Our lips separated for us to catch our breath, and he exhaled, “I swear I’ll only be gone for 20 minutes tops.” I kissed him again but his hand tilted my jaw, pulling us apart. “I’ll meet you in your apartment,” he moaned, wetting his lips as his heavy lidded eyes betrayed his desire. His clothed metal fingers slipped under the hem of my shirt teasingly and he raised his brows in suggestion, “We can continue… this.”

Pausing for a second, I bit my lip. This was all so new to us, and normally I’d never want to be this attached to someone, but Bucky felt so comfortable, so right to me. I reasoned with myself that this was just the honeymoon phase and it’d be more unhealthy if we were too codependent. As reluctant as I was to let him go, I knew I could wait 20 minutes for him. “Okay,” I nodded, prompting him to kiss me one last time before opening the front door.

He tugged his hat back down, planting a peck on my forehead. “I’ll rush back, I promise.”

Three loud knocks echoed from my front door. I pulled the skillet of eggs from the stove, carefully dumping them onto plates. One more loud bang came from the door, and this one sounded harder than knuckles meeting wood. Hurrying across my apartment, I unlocked the deadbolt quickly and yanked the door open.

Regret was etched all over Bucky’s features as I grabbed his elbow and guided him into the hallway. I closed the door and turned to find him frozen directly behind me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, but my words quieting in my throat as his haunted eyes met mine.

“I just, I really wanted this to work,” he sighed, gaze dropping to the floor. “I did.”

Shaking my head, I pulled the bag of plums from his hand and took them to the kitchen. “What do you mean?” I was afraid of what I’d see if I looked at his face.

“Us. This.” He spoke clearly, his voice carrying across the room.

I turned on my heel, anger and heat suddenly rising in my chest. “Considering what you said to me last night and 20 minutes ago, if this is a break up speech it seems pretty insincere.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I watched him searching for his next words. This obviously was not planned on his part.

“I-, I thought I could be happy. I was wrong.”

“Drop the bullshit,” I groaned, grasping his jaw in my hand and forcing him to look at me. “You’ve been happy for the last two weeks with me. I’ve been nothing but honest with you Bucky, and you didn’t lie to me about your past. Don’t you dare start now.”

His steely gaze held mine for only a moment before softening. I let go of his face as he muttered, “Well shit.” Moving quickly past me, he went to one of my windows. He checked the streets near our building and then the sky. “I’m not trying to break up with you, but I’m trying to tell you this isn’t going to end well.”

“What’s going on?”

He moved from one window to the next. “They’re coming for me,” he answered, turning to look at me and then back out to the street. “I don’t know what suddenly changed but there was a picture of me on a newspaper about the bombing in Vienna.”

“Do you think it’s Hydra?” I asked, closing the distance between us. My hands slipped over his shoulders and across his chest, leaning my body onto his back.

“No, it’s the UN I think, or some government agency.” He continued to stare out the window, his fingers tapping against his leg. “And since I’m now a domestic terrorist according to the paper, they won’t care whether they take me in alive or not.”

Slipping around him, I placed myself between the window and his body. “Don’t say that, we’ll figure a way out of this. I’ll come forward and say you were with me last-.”

Shaking his head, he cut me off, “No. There’s no chance in hell that I’m letting you expose yourself for me. They’ll scrutinize you, interrogate you, maybe even arrest you.” I sighed against him, mentally searching for another way to help him. “Honestly, I’m thinking about surrendering.”

Holding a breath in his lungs longer than usual, I rubbed his forearms, trying to soothe him. “But you didn’t do it.”

His gaze turned hard, “How do you know that? You didn’t even ask.”

Hands slipping to his face, I brought his forehead to mine, “Because I know you. That’s not you anymore.”

“But it could be.”

“But even if it could be you, physically. That’s not you, it’s not what you want or what’s in here.” I poked his chest reminding him that his heart was not a killers.

“I’m so sorry this is happening.” His hard edges crumbled and his hands guided my hips closer to his. “I didn’t want you to have to go through this.”

“It’s not your fault.” I rubbed his jaw with my thumbs, brushing his beard and hoping he’d relax into me.

“Yes it is,” he groaned, gripping my wrists in his fingers and moving me away from the window.  “Because if they come after me, they’ll come after you too eventually.”

“Buck-,” I started to pull him away from the glass but he turned his back to me.

“It might not be the government, but Hydra will want to get rid of loose ends. Make sure no one knows their secrets.”

“If they come, then we’ll handle this together.”

He turned to me, a hand running through his hair as he shook his head, “You don’t get it. I’ll probably be dead or locked up. We can’t handle any of that together.”

Knotting my hands behind his back to make sure he couldn’t remove me, I looked up at his stormy eyes, “You sound like you’ve already given up.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” he hunched his body into mine, hands settling on my hips again. “Just being here, holding you, puts you in so much danger. And I don’t care what happens to me, they can lock me up or kill me, but I can’t stomach the thought of someone hurting you. But I guess I’ve already dragged you into all this.”

“You didn’t drag me into anything. I walked into this of my own free will.” His eyes lowered to my lips, focusing on how my mouth formed the words. “I love you Bucky, and I’d do all of this over again if it meant I got to be with you.”

He moved quickly, lips crashing against mine before I could even grasp what was happening. Instinct taking over, I gripped his biceps, anchoring my body with his as I kissed him back. Our mouths moved together desperately, wanting to take in everything we could of each other, needing to stretch what felt like our last moment together.

The walls of my apartment vibrated gently, notifying us of a helicopter approaching. His lips stilled under mine, jaw going slack as he opened his mouth against my own. Taking in a deep breath just as I exhaled, he held me close to him, sharing air for the last time. I wished the world could slow or stop. I needed more than just this and he deserved more than two weeks of cautious happiness.

“I love you, (Y/N), and I’m sorry,” he spoke into my cheek before taking his hands from me.

He moved quickly to my hallway, shoulders broadening and spine straightening in preparation for what was coming. “Make it out alive please,” I called to him, feeling heat and tears building behind my eyes.

As his fingers wrapped around my doorknob he hesitated, turning back to look at me. His eyes were apologetic and his brows furrowed. “Stay close to the ground and behind something. Don’t come out until everything sounds normal again.” My heart ached but I nodded at him, gulping down my nerves.

Watching him walk out of my life for the last time felt like losing a piece of me I didn’t know I had. But I didn’t have much time to contemplate my feelings as the sound of glass breaking and bullets hitting metal and plaster reached my ears minutes later. I followed his orders, curling into a ball on the floor of my kitchen, covered by my island and appliances on all sides as more bangs flew through the air. I covered my ears and rocked myself, silently praying he’d survive somehow.

I didn’t realize I was crying until all the fighting stopped, and I knew I was alone.

Tags: @irishdancr24 @fangirlisms-22 @suz-123 @tequilavet @plan3tmadison

[ohwhatamessiam]

Give  -Part 1

Summary: Bucky and (Y/N) had an amazing yet brief relationship in Bucharest before all hell broke loose. Two years later they reconnect in a bar in Brooklyn, but things have changed and neither are the same people they were before. Will their relationship survive or is a break up inevitable?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: I don’t think there’s any. Just a slow burn with lots of angst and the beginning of fluff within the time frame of pre and post-Civil War events.

Author’s Note: Hi guys! So I wrote this for @bladebarnes’s #bladehits2kchallenge with the song Give by You Me At Six. I’m generally a long form writer and I started this as a one shot and it became a lot longer so I’m breaking it into parts. I’m sorry if this is horrible and I suck at writing in second person so all this is in first person (still a reader insert). I haven’t written any fanfic in over a year, and I’ve never written any Marvel fanfic so this is new for me. Hopefully I’ll have the next part posted in the next two days. A huge thanks to @lostboyinneverland​ for beta-ing for me, and @irishdancr24 and @fangirlisms-22 for talking me into writing this. Also here’s a Spotify playlist to listen to while reading the entire fic. Hopefully you all will like it, and if you do let me know!

source: bbuchanann

I sat alone in a bar in Brooklyn, waiting to break up with Bucky Barnes. It was the same spot I’d met with Steve Rogers at a year ago when he checked in on me. More than two years had passed since I’d last seen Bucky. Since he’d last kissed me in the doorway of my apartment in Bucharest. Since he’d walked away from me for the last time.

That day was supposed to be goodbye, but to both of our surprises he’d survived the manhunt for him after he was framed with bombing the UN conference in Vienna. Steve had done what he could to protect him, reversing the roles of their childhood friendship and keeping Bucky alive and hidden. Of course I couldn’t know where Bucky was, and what mental or physical state he was in, only that he was alive. Steve had told me he was safe and I believed him. Sam Wilson had alluded to Bucky being unable to hurt anyone, which had caused me to feel a little more apprehensive about his current state.

Steve had set the meeting up, calling me a week ago and telling me that Bucky was ready to see me. Two months before, I’d woken in the middle of the night to a text from him saying, “he’s awake.” I’d been aching to see him for longer than felt humanly possible, but all my waiting strengthened my decision. I couldn’t keep waiting around for him. As much as I loved him and every fiber of my being wanted to be with him, being apart for two years without hearing his voice, without even a word from him, made me wonder what I actually meant to him.

Did he even think about me over the last two years? Were Steve and Sam just pitying me and making sure some Hydra crony couldn’t find me and try to get answers out of me? I’d lived the last two years of my life trying to save my love for Bucky, treating myself like a woman whose man was caught in a war, and would return when it was done. Did Bucky even still think we were together? Was there even a relationship leftover for me to be breaking up?

I’d spent the last two years thinking about him. Waking up in the middle of the night wanting to be with him. Just wanting to even hear his voice. But I got nothing, so I busied myself. Getting a new job, volunteering at an animal shelter, spending more time with my friends, but nothing filled the hole in my heart. And I’d faltered, spent days angry at him followed by weeks when I was sad and desperately needed human contact. But no one could fill his space. And so I continued to wait.

My knees bounced nervously underneath the bar’s counter, an almost empty whiskey already sitting on a cocktail napkin in front of me. This bar was the perfect place to meet because it was quiet enough to talk but just busy enough to disappear from without attracting attention if need be. The bartender with a full beard and sparkling green eyes paused in front of me, noticing how tightly I was wringing my hands together. “Everything okay?” he asked, leaning against the wooden counter.

“Just nervous,” I tried to smile but it was strained. “I’ll take another.” He nodded at me, grabbing another glass, dropping a couple ice cubes in it, and pouring more whiskey for me. I threw back the remaining contents of my current glass and left it on the counter.

“Let me know if you need anything else,” his eyes flashing a worried look my way. I nodded at him and tried to smirk. After another moment of hesitation, he continued onto the other customers and I was left alone with my thoughts again.

I took one more gulp of the liquor, feeling it burn its way down my throat in a cruel and slow way. Torturing my esophagus, the same way the waiting game of the last two years was torturing me. Just as I placed my glass back on the counter, I heard the front door swing open.

His eyes met mine before his feet even entered the building, and his smolder made me want to melt in my seat. Instead I straightened my back in my stool and took in every detail of him. He looked, different. His hair was gone, cut shorter than I’d ever seen it in person and it reminded me of the photos I’d seen of him from the 40s. He was clean shaven, his cheekbones and jawline on full display, and he’d slimmed down a little. He was still massive looking, but leaner than when I’d last held him, and maybe his clothing had something to do with that. He was wearing a pair of tight fitting black jeans, a pair of combat boots, a white t-shirt, a black leather jacket, and his gloves. There wasn’t a layer besides his jacket in sight.

He ran his fingers through his hair as he got closer to me and a smile stretched across his lips. Everything I’d planned flew out the window. It was as if my breath had been kicked out of me for two years and suddenly I could inhale. I slid down from my bar stool on shaky knees and allowed myself to be pulled into a hug. The feel of his hands on me, his chest against mine, the fresh and woodsy scent of his after shave, the twinkle in his eyes, his wicked smirk, and his husky “hello” threw me into a sensory overload. Suddenly I was reliving every milestone and moment of ours together in Bucharest.

The first time I laid eyes on Bucky Barnes was in the stairwell of our apartment building in Bucharest. It was the day I moved into the studio directly below his.

Bucharest was the 6th place I’d stayed in 4 months, and the city I was staying in the longest. My post-graduate school travel excursion could last for only so long before I had to start paying off my student loans, Bucharest was the most affordable city I’d be in, and therefore I was able to sub-rent an apartment for an entire month compared to a couple weeks in a dingy hostel. I knew I wasn’t moving into a palace, but just walking up the stairs, seeing all the cracked plaster and cement of the pinkish walls told me that living here was going to be interesting if nothing else.

The apartments sat close together and the walls were thin. I’d bothered to buy a couple sets of cheap dishes, silverware, pots and pans, and a set of bed sheets. Nothing I would mind leaving behind or throwing out, but cooking for myself was much more affordable than eating at a food stand or cafe everyday. I’d climbed the 12 floors worth of stairs with a box and bag balanced on my left arm, and dragging my luggage and backpack with my right.

I saw his baseball capped head bob down the flight of stairs above me and the way he darted down them quietly and quickly made me think he would push right past me. I leaned my suitcase on the corner of the wall and fished my keys out of my pocket. As I twisted the key into the deadbolt I felt his presence directly behind me, large and powerful but also timid. I rushed to yank the door open and jam my foot into the frame. As I swung the thin door open I heard my luggage start to slide down the wall. I whipped around to try to catch it while also balancing the rest of my things but that was no easy feat.

Bucky grabbed the handle before it hit the ground and placed it in my hand, his gloved fingers gently brushing mine. I slid my bags onto the floor of the apartment and then carefully put down the box of breakables. Pivoting on my heel I looked for him in the hallway but he was already gone. I leaned onto the red metal railing and searched for him on the staircase. His dark, broad figure was already 4 floors below me, but I still shouted thanks in broken Romanian, “M-mulțumesc!” He didn’t slow down or respond to my gratitude, but I watched him take the remaining flights until he exited the building, a small spark stirring in my gut.

The second time I laid eyes on Bucky Barnes was on a busy street lined with vendor stalls, paper kiosks, and to my luck, a few benches. It was only a couple blocks over from the apartment building, and I’d been reading and people watching there when the weather was pleasant. Staying inside the tiny studio with cracked walls, a half-fallen apart kitchen, and stained and slightly smelly furniture only seemed to dampen my mood. Exploring the city and absorbing the culture through watching the people and their interactions with one another was my escape.

It hadn’t even been a week since I’d seen Bucky, but the thrill that ran up my spine when I caught his form in front of a produce stand made me straighten in my seat. It wasn’t cool enough for him to need a jacket over a long sleeve t-shirt, yet he was bundled tightly. Unlike the last time I’d seen him though, he had no baseball cap on. His dark brown hair was tucked behind his ears and looked like it could use a good wash, but it still appeared soft looking in the light. I lowered my book onto the bench as I leaned forward to get a better look at what he was doing.

He was rolling fruit between his gloved hands. Starting with a pair of apples, he closely inspected their skin for blemishes or bruises, and then he moved onto a basket of plums. He tested their firmness and weight in his palms, and after another moment picked out four to purchase. As he reached for his money in his back pocket a soft breeze started to pick up on the street, causing the vendor’s canopy to blow upward. As he handed the middle age woman behind the table the money, the breeze grew into a slight gust. He reached down to place his plums in a bag, and as he did so the back of his hair blew up.

As he straightened with his paper bag in hand, his hair continued to stand upward. I let out a snort that came out louder than expected, and I covered my mouth immediately with my hand to smother the laugh that followed. Bucky’s head turned to locate the origin of the sound instantly and his dark eyes met mine for a moment. I dropped my gaze instantly, placing my book back in my lap but the damage was already done.

Bucky weaved back through the crowd, never removing his stare from me. As he reached the opposite end of my bench he paused for a second, knowing I’d been watching his feet move across the concrete without looking up. I glanced at his face one more time to find him fighting off a smirk. Then he stepped past me and onto a busy crosswalk, leaving me to watch him walk away again.

[ohwhatamessiam]

Give  -Part 5

Summary: Bucky and (Y/N) had an amazing yet brief relationship in Bucharest before all hell broke loose. Two years later they reconnect in a bar in Brooklyn, but things have changed and neither are the same as they were before. Will their relationship survive or is a break up inevitable?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 4.8k (I’m so sorry, I only meant for it to be 2k but sometimes I can’t stop myself.)

Warnings: Language, still in flashback-landia with lots of fluff and quite a bit of angst. A small physical altercation, followed by sexy and cuddly time. This chapter is NSFW, although it does not actually feature sex. Please be mature (and 18+) if you’re going to read this. I don’t want to get in trouble y’all.

Author’s Note: Hey again guys! This is part 5 of my submission to @bladebarnes‘s #bladehits2kchallenge inspired by the song Give by You Me At Six. First person reader insert as usual, I’m so so sorry for making some of you guys wait for this one but work and family stuff got in the way. I also didn’t have a beta for this, so I’m sorry if it sucks. Here’s my Spotify playlist to listen to while reading the entire fic. Hopefully this turned out okay, and as always let me know if you enjoy it or want to be tagged in the next couple parts.

If you haven’t yet, check out Part 1, 2, 3, and 4.

Three days later, Bucky spent another evening with me, but he came over much later and we were on very different terms than we’d been when he’d last entered my apartment. After a brief flirtation in his doorway the day before, he agreed to help me finish the cheesecake and wine. Unsurprisingly, he showed up with a fresh bouquet of flowers and I almost hit him with them. It was an amazingly sweet gesture, but it wasn’t necessary after the heated moment we shared in my hallway.

We both dressed much more casually than we had on our last date, and I opened the door to find him in a grey henley, black undershirt, blue jeans, and his hair tied into a low bun. He wore only one glove on his left hand, and the second I closed my door he was pulling it off. I’d opted for a pair of grey jeans with busted knees and a black v-neck. I popped the bottle of wine, pouring it into the pair of cheap wine glasses I’d found, and set out the plate of leftover cheesecake with two forks. After dumping the rest of the plum and berry topping onto the dessert, we both dug in, eating directly from the same plate. The sound of forks scraping against ceramic and clinking against each other filled the air with our laughter and relaxed conversation.

Unlike our previous date, this one was spent discussing the present and the future. We’d dwelled enough on our pasts, and I didn’t want to bring up anything that would change this easy-going, confident, and happy Bucky into anything else. He revealed that he wanted to move back to the US one day, but considering he was a wanted fugitive for his involvement in the fall of SHIELD, that was probably going to have to wait.

When I asked him about marriage and a family he shrugged, his pleasant mood waning slightly, “I wanted those things when I was young, before all this.” Lifting his left hand, he stared at it, calculating how it would appear to a family, to children. “But I haven’t thought about those things in a long time, and I don’t even know if I’m still capable of that.”

Attempting to lighten the mood, I yanked his metal hand out of the air and warmed it in mine, “Babe, I know you’re technically like 100 years old, but physically you’re barely pushing 30 so you’re definitely still capable of that.”

His brows furrowed as he tried to understand what I’d meant, and as he did his mouth opened, letting out a small “ohhh” and a chuckle. “That wasn’t what I was saying, but you’re probably right.” I swallowed my last bite of cheesecake, giving his metal fingers one more squeeze and then pushed the plate his way to finish. Looking up from under his lashes, he gave me a small smirk, “I kinda like when you call me babe.”

“You do, huh?” I asked as I emptied the last of the wine into both of our glasses.

“I really do doll,” a blush was creeping across his cheeks, and I couldn’t help but bite my lip at how good he looked sitting across from me. I wanted his hands on me, wanted his body pressed against mine but he remained on the other side of my table, glancing up from his fork every few seconds to see how I’d reacted to his words.

Sitting back in my chair and crossing my legs, I cocked my head to the side and smiled, “Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

After he finished the cheesecake and we both emptied our wine glasses I placed the dishes in the sink and turned to find him standing over my coffee table, flipping through the couple books sitting there. “Do you read anything?” I asked, resting my elbows against the counter as I watched him.

“Yeah, a little.” He picked up the largest book I had with me, Paradise Lost, and sat down on my couch with it. “I finished 1984 a few months ago, but it hit a little too close to home with how my memories of everything I did and was done to me like to slip in and out. I started The Count of Monte Cristo last month and I’m trying to get through it.”

I sighed, still leaning on the counter, “That’s a long ass book, but it’s definitely better for your mental health.” After skimming a few more pages, he patted the cushion next to him, motioning for me to sit. I moved reluctantly, wishing I could keep my distance and just watch him flip through a book as he chewed on his lip.

Sinking down on the spot furthest from him, I tucked my legs under me and sat facing him. He closed the paperback in his left hand, his right snaking out to my ankle and gently rubbing up my calf until he reached my knee. I tried not to react too obviously but his hand on me, even through the layer of my jeans, made my insides warm and fluttery. “Read to me?” he asked, his fingers hooked under my knee as he carefully pulled me across the couch and my legs over his lap.

“You want me to read an epic poem to you?” I asked incredulously. I wanted to separate our limbs to give me more space to think and control my urges.

“Well, obviously not the whole thing,” he shrugged as he dropped the book into my lap. “But whatever part you want to. I’ve never read it and this way I’ll be able to just listen and enjoy it.”

His metal hand hovered loosely over my calf as his flesh hand slid slightly over my knee and up my thigh, before inching back down to my joint. Squeezing my eyes shut, I held my breath in my lungs, trying not to gasp or react to his hands on me. “I don’t know if I can do Milton justice.”

“I don’t believe that,” he shook his head, causing a piece of hair to loosen near his face. “I like your voice, it’s calming to me and I could use more of that in my life.”

I let out a sigh and opened my eyes, “Okay.” Before laying back against the couch I reached out for his cheek, softly brushing my fingers against his scruff and tucking the piece of hair behind his ear, “But only for you.” He smirked victoriously at me as I tried not to melt inside.

Several pages into my favorite passage in book 5, where Satan watches Adam and Eve in Eden, I got uncomfortable laying back to read to him and sat up. His right hand left my legs to wrap around my back and pull me into him. I lost my place in the poem and stared up at him, catching the way he was watching me. The softness of his eyes, the scent of his aftershave, the warmth radiating through his clothes, all pulled me closer to his mouth.

I moved quickly, pushing the book off the couch and grabbing his jaw between my hands. Tilting his mouth toward mine, I closed the space between our lips, needing to taste him, to feel more of him. He jerked under me in shock as my lips crushed his. As his surprise wore off, his flesh hand slipped into my hair while his metal one gripped my thigh. He kissed me back, pushing my lips apart hungrily for only a second before his fingers met the back of my neck. Pulling away from my lips, he pressed his forehead against mine.

His grip on my thigh loosened, and I felt the coolness of his hand leave my leg but I still tingled where the metal had been. The problem with forcing me away from his mouth was that I could still see his pink lips as he caught his breath. My hands stayed on his face, shifting it upward the slightest bit, allowing access to his jaw and neck. Kissing softly against his cheek first, I felt his smile against my skin, and as I trailed my lips down to his jaw he tilted his head back even more, encouraging me to continue. My lips scratched against his scruff as I kissed under his jaw, and hearing the arm of my loveseat squeak under his metal grip only encouraged me to keep going.

Knotting my hands into his hair as I reached his neck, I opened my mouth and nipped at his skin before smoothing over the bite with a gentle kiss and a flick of my tongue. His groan felt like it erupted from his entire body, and it tickled my lips as I freed a hand to tug at his shirt collar. Moving closer to his collarbone, I nipped at him harder, eliciting a small gasp from his lips. As I pressed my lips against his shoulder his fingers tightened around my neck. Translating the reaction as positive, I moved my legs so that I could slip down his body easier and continued to pull at his shirt so my lips could reach his chest.

His metal hand grabbed my legs, forcing them back into their original position and his flesh hand firmly pulled my mouth from his skin. I pouted as he pressed his forehead against mine and gave me a quick peck. “Doll, I think we should get back to reading,” he murmured, his breath ghosting against my lips.

Straightening against him, I pulled my hands and face from his, and sat back, “Sorry, I-, I got caught up in the moment.”

“Don’t apologize,” he cut in, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. “Your lips, your mouth, that felt amazing but I think it’s best I take things, uh, slower.” Nodding into his hand, I planted a small kiss on his palm, causing him to grin. The crinkles around his eyes made my heart race and my stomach do somersaults.

Planting one more tender kiss on his lips, I swung my legs away from his and tucked them underneath me before I picked up the book. As I paged back through to find where I’d left off, Bucky pulled me into his side, wrapping his arm around my waist. I rested my head on his shoulder as I read the rest of the passage, and we stayed cuddled on the couch until he decided to leave. His goodbye was nowhere near as passionate as our brief hallway make out, but it was emotional and warm, and his way of letting me know how much he cared about me.

Someone was screaming.

I bolted up from my bed, breath coming quick from being startled. A thud came from the floor above me, and then another loud shout. It sounded scared but angry, and as more thuds came from Bucky’s apartment I figured out who was screaming. In a wave of panic I hopped out of bed, searching for a pair of shorts and shoes to slide on. I grabbed my keys and a kitchen knife before I rushed up the stairs.

Pounding on his door with an open palm, I slipped the handle of the knife behind my back in the waistband of my shorts. When no one answered I hit the door even harder, needing any kind of answer. Did Hydra find him and take him? Was he fighting a group of their agents now? Was Bucky already dead?

Just as my hand came down on the wood again the door whipped open. Bucky’s eyes, gray and haunted, met mine before checking the hallway behind me. As he shifted his focus back to me, I heard what sounded like a metal clashing against the ground and his flesh arm signaled for me to come inside. The second his defensive posture wavered, I threw myself at him. Hands gripping his face, I inspected every inch of his flesh I could see in the tiny amount of light that leaked through his windows.

“Are you okay?” I whispered, feeling his warm fingers rest against my shoulder. He nodded, only half of his face visible from the light. “Did someone find you?”

The graveness of his features shifted to surprise as he answered, “No.” Letting out a deep breath, I took a step back, letting relief flood my limbs. “What would you do if I had been found?”

I could have laughed at that question. Obviously I wasn’t a weapons trained super soldier, but I’d taken enough self-defense classes to help a little. Pulling the knife from my shorts, I waved it in the light for him to see it glint before I dropped it on the floor behind me, “I would have fought for you.”

A small yet proud smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but he refused to enjoy my confession. “I’m fine, it was just a bad dream. You can go back to your apartment.”

“A dream had you screaming like that?” I moved to him, resting my hands on his shoulders. “That must have been a different kind of nightmare.”

“It was.” He took another step away from me, trying to keep distance between us. As he stepped through another crack of light I caught that he was only wearing a white t-shirt and boxers. I’d never seen his metal arm higher than just above his wrist, but it shined in the light and I reached for it. “Don’t,” he warned, pulling away from me.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?” I asked, keeping my distance as a chill crept down my spine. I crossed my arms, trying to hold onto a shred of warmth.

“Nothing, I just think you should go.”

“I’m not going anywhere, you just woke up screaming.” I stared him down, needing him to react, to just say something. “And I’m not moving until you tell me why you’re acting like this.”

He shifted in the light, his clenched jaw and metal arm becoming visible. “Don’t make me move you,” he warned, his voice was nearly a growl.

“I’d like to see you try, babe,” I snapped back, his metal hand tightened into a fist at the pet name. I stood still, watching as his feet spread apart, his body preparing for an attack, except I wasn’t going to make the first move and we both knew that.

He moved quickly and light on his feet, but I anticipated his actions. His right hand reached out for my shoulder and I swatted it away while extending my other hand out to keep him back. With an open palm, I pressed against his chest gently and watched as his face changed for only a second, shifting to a pained expression at my touch. His metal arm stayed down, fist clenched, and we both knew he wouldn’t raise it to me. The hand I’d swatted away pushed against my elbow before it pressed against my back, pulling me to him. I placed both my hands against him, attempting to create distance between us. Being this close wouldn’t allow me to think clearly. His arm tightened, as if he was going to lift me off the ground, but I dug my heel into his foot, throwing off his balance. Pushing against him hard, I forced him to tumble to the ground. He grunted as he fell, but his grip never loosened around me and I yelped out “shit” as I crashed with him.

He scrambled to pin me but he still refused to use his metal arm, so I took my advantage and used my legs to pin him. My feet hooked around his knees, my hips holding down his torso, and yanking at his flesh hand quickly, I moved it above his head. He tried to shift under me but I continued to force all my weight against his lower half, fully aware that the majority of his strength was kept in his upper body. Yet he couldn’t flip me over if he couldn’t move his hips.

But I also knew that even his wiggling to get out from under me was half-assed. If he’d intended to do damage he would have flipped me over his head using both arms or incapacitated me with a metal hand wrapped around my throat. “Bucky, tell me what’s wrong,” I begged, hovering close to his face.

He screwed his eyes shut, refusing to let me see him break. “(Y/N),” he sighed shakily.

“Bucky please,” I gave up pinning him and instead moved my hands to his face.

“It’s me,” he whispered as his breath hit my face, hot and uneven. He opened his eyes as his jaw set in a hardline. “I’m what’s wrong.” His hand gripped my hip, pushing me off of him, before he stood up swiftly and turned his back to me.

I staggered to my feet, trying to understand what he meant. He rested his hands against the counter, his shoulders hunching. “They, they put all this shit in my head. They made me a tool, a killing machine and it’s still in me.” He turned to face me, a hand knotted in his hair. “It’s all still here, and I can’t get rid of it. It doesn’t matter that I know who I am again, the asset is still me.”

“I don’t care about that,” I spoke as I moved towards him, taking his face in my hands, shifting his head so that he would look at me. “That’s not who you are now, that’s what you were forced to be then.”

“I killed you,” he whispered, his gaze holding mine, tears pooling in his eyes. “That’s why I was screaming, I killed you in my dream. And if somehow I lose control, if I become that thing again, I can’t bear the thought of hurting you.”

I stood on my toes and gripped his chin so he’d look at me as I spoke. “You won’t hurt me because that’s not you anymore. What you were doesn’t matter to me, only who you are now. That’s the person I love.” 

The words slipped out before I could fully comprehend what I was saying, but once they hung in the air between us, I knew I meant every word. His eyes went wide and lips fell open, causing nerves to rise from my gut. I pulled my hands from him, “I’m sorry, that was too soon. I-, I shouldn’t have said that-.”

This time he cut me off, his flesh hand grabbing my elbow and pulling me back to him. My eyes met his and for the first time that night, the Bucky who’d cuddled with me three nights ago came through. “I-, I think I love you too.” His hand cradled my cheek, and as I smiled at him he pulled me closer.

He kissed me softly and slowly, as though he was trying to savor the moment. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, deepening the kiss. He took his mouth from mine too quickly, “This doesn’t change the fact that I’m still a partially brainwashed assassin.”

“No it doesn’t, but you’re not going to hurt me, babe.” Nudging his nose with my own, I kept my hands together behind his head, keeping him close to me.

“But I could kill you if something happened,” his voice grew louder, his fear continuing to claw at him.

“I’d be more than willing to go that way,” I joked, trailing my lips against his jaw softly, trying to soothe him. Instead it only made him more worried.

“Don’t say that.”

“Bucky,” I whispered, taking one of my hands from his neck to hold his face to mine. “You can worry all you want, but I’m not going to.” He opened his mouth, about to complain again but I didn’t let him get a word in. “Please just shut up and kiss me.”

He hesitated for only second before he kissed me again. Unlike his earlier efforts to be tender and move slowly, his mouth worked hungrily against mine. Tracing the edge of my bottom lip with his tongue, I moaned into his. His hand slid to my hip, grasping me against him. I knotted a hand into his loose hair, tugging on it carefully as I pushed my own tongue past his lips. His response was to dig his fingers into my flesh, inadvertently pushing the hem of my shirt up and sending tingles throughout my entire body.

Slowly maneuvering me so that we were closer to his bed, I felt his metal shoulder shift under my elbow, and his cold hand ghosted over my lower back. He wouldn’t touch me with it, but I was well past fearing any part of him. I ran my fingers down his spine before grasping his metal wrist in my hand. He pulled away from my mouth and before he could object I reassured him, “I’m not afraid of this. You’re in control now.” I pressed his hand against my skin. “You can touch me, use this to your advantage,” I whispered near his ear. I tugged on his earlobe with my teeth before kissing the skin directly below it. I shifted, speaking against the side of his mouth, “You’re not gonna break me.”

His lips met mine clumsily, kissing only my top lip before moving to my bottom one. His scruff scratched my skin as his lips pressed against my cheek and then my jaw. The metal arm wrapped around my body, moving lower with every brush of his lips down my neck. His arm settled just below my ass, fingers gripping my thigh. Lips and beard ghosted my collarbone and I let out a breathy whimper as his teeth sunk into my skin.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he instructed, his arm lifting me off the ground. His flesh hand held my chest against him, and I widened my hips, allowing his torso to push between my legs. As I clenched my legs around him, hooking my ankles together to keep myself in place, his metal hand left my body. He took a few steps, moving us closer to his bed, and bracing myself on his shoulders I hoisted myself higher against him. His flesh fingers slipped under the back of my shirt as his metal arm stretched out past my body. Our mouths reconnected as our bodies began to tilt, and I gasped as I realized we were falling. Not a second later we stopped moving, a metallic thud sounding next to my head.

Lowering us against his mattress, I grinned up at him, turning my head to see he’d used his arm to catch our weight. “See, that was good.” He returned my smile, holding my face with his warm fingers, while his cool ones flattened against my thigh.

Pressing his hips against mine I pulled his mouth down, taking his sharp gasp from my lips as I dug my nails into his back. My fingers slipped down his shirt and I bunched up the material, needing less clothing between us. He separated our mouths to help me yank his shirt over his head, and as he threw it to the floor, I outlined the planes of his chest with my fingers. He always felt so firm and warm under his clothes, but without his usual layers, his skin burned against mine setting the sparks already running through my body on fire.

Metal fingertips massaged my hip as his flesh hand inched beneath my shirt, skimming my side and brushing against my bralette. His tongue pushed past my lips and I tightened my legs around him. Smiling against his lips, I rolled him onto his back. I tugged my tank top over my head and tossed it to the side before I traced the outline of his abs with my nails. Accidentally tickling him forced a giggle from his lips, bouncing me slightly as his stomach moved.

The way the light illuminated his grin set a bittersweet pang off in my heart, reminding me this was my last week in Bucharest. He was so beautiful, so sweet and gentle, so lonely and cautious. He’d been a prisoner for more of his life than not. Beaten, experimented on, and forced to commit murder against his will, yet he was still kind hearted. I cupped his cheek in my hand, thumb brushing his lips as he stared up at me with adoration. The moment felt perfect, and I knew this was the Bucky I’d always keep with me.

His metal hand rubbed against my thigh as his flesh hand ran over my side. “You’re so soft,” he whispered, giving me a gentle squeeze with his hands. If we hadn’t discussed it, I was sure he would have taken his hands off me in fear.

“And you’re not,” I answered as I sunk my fingers into his bicep and his pecs. “I think that’s a good thing.”

Leaning up to my mouth to kiss me, he agreed, “It’s a great thing.” And as his lips pulled me down to him, his hands moved my hips against his, creating friction between our already heated limbs. He groaned into my mouth, sending a chill of excitement up my spine. As much as I loved sweet and careful Bucky, I was more than ready to meet aroused and needy Bucky. After grinding a figure eight against his already hard bulge, I trailed my lips to his scruff, his neck, and finally his chest. I nipped at his skin as I ran a knuckle under the waistband of his boxers. An excited gasp left his lips, only encouraging me to move further south. As I kissed and licked his stomach, I started tugging his underwear down.

His flesh hand knotted in my hair as his metal one grasped at my hand. He guided my face back up to his and my hand away from his cock. My brows furrowed as he kissed me softly. “Do you want to do this, babe?” I asked as I kept my face close to his. Nodding against my cheek, his beard scratching at my skin, felt like an answer to me but he kept me away from his lower body.

“Yes, badly,” he breathed, nudging my nose with his own. “But I think the part of me who needs you right now is the James from before the war and the impulses of the asset. And they’re not in charge anymore, I am.” He spoke against my cheek, “My body desperately wants this, but my heart’s telling me to wait. I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

“Okay,” I nodded, moving both my hands to his chest. “I don’t want to do anything you don’t want me to.”

His hand reached for mine, holding it to his mouth as he kissed my palm, “Thank you.” I inched my body away from his and then swung my leg away from him, allowing me to lay at his side. He kissed me gently again, as if I’d shatter any second and he’d wake up from a dream. I kissed him back, slowly and softly, hoping he could feel how happy I was to just be with him. His fingers found my hips and he rolled me onto my side so my back was against his chest and he could hold me. I helped him close the distance, but felt his hard on press against my ass.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help you out here?” I rested my hand on his hip, giving it a squeeze so he’d understand what I meant.

He chuckled into my shoulder, “Doll, you don’t need to worry about it. This is not the first awkward erection I’ve had, and it’ll go away.” I nodded, feeling his forehead rest against neck as his right arm hooked around my waist. Yet, the more I tried to relax, the less I was able to ignore it.

“Roll over,” I instructed, letting a deep sigh out.

“What?”

“Just roll over.” After a moment of hesitation, he did as I asked. I slipped an arm under his pillow and another around his torso. I pressed a kiss on his neck, and then his shoulder where his scar tissue remained from his accident and his prosthetic. “See, this works.”

His metal hand rested over my hand on his waist, “Yeah, it does.”

As his body relaxed into mine and his breathing evened out, I knew he felt safe. And I felt more at home than I’d felt in months. 

It was all because of him.

Tags: @irishdancr24 @suz-123 @fangirlisms-22 @lostboyinneverland

[ohwhatamessiam]

Give  -Part 4

Summary: Bucky and (Y/N) had an amazing yet brief relationship in Bucharest before all hell broke loose. Two years later they reconnect in a bar in Brooklyn, but things have changed and neither are the same as they were before. Will their relationship survive or is a break up inevitable?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 5.1k (I’m sorry this is so freaking long, it was a marathon to write and it’ll be a marathon to read too)

Warnings: Language, still in flashback land, a weird hand massage on his metal hand because I have a metal arm kink and just good old angst and fluff.

Author’s Note: Hi again! This is part 4 of my submission to @bladebarnes‘s #bladehits2kchallenge with the song Give by You Me at Six. First person narration as the rest have been, and I’m sorry if this sucks because I didn’t have a beta for this one. Also here’s a Spotify playlist to listen to while reading the entire fic. Hopefully this turned out alright, and if you like it or want to be tagged in the rest, let me know!

If you haven’t yet, read Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

“I started in Sorrento, then went to Milan. Then Munich, Vienna, and Budapest before here. I still have a couple weeks planned in Istanbul, and I end my trip in Patras. But Bucharest is the first place I’ve been able to stay longer than a couple weeks in, and I haven’t had to stay in a hostel which I am more than fine with,” I explained as I watched Bucky push away his plate, leaving only a couple crumbs on it. He’d gone back for another 2 slices of pizza and 2 more hot dogs, and we’d both finished an additional beer.

“That sounds like an interesting trip. Why are you traveling by yourself?” he asked, his body fully relaxed with his feet extended so that they were about 3 inches from my own.

“I’m trying to get out of my comfort zone. Try new things, be brave.” He’d been deflecting most of my personal questions all night, rerouting to ask me questions instead. “Why are you here by yourself?”

He paused, dropping his gaze to his hands. I anticipated that he’d brush off the question or divert it back to me, but to my surprise he gave me an honest answer. “It’s generally best if I’m alone. For others and for myself.”

I leaned forward desperately wanting to grab his hand and squeeze it. My right arm stretched across the table, reaching out to his metal hand, but my self-control kicked in 2 inches from it and I dropped mine onto the table. “I don’t believe that. I like being alone but no one can do it all by themself. There’s no way to live your life without others.”

His eyes focused on my fingers, mere inches from his own but he didn’t connect the distance. Instead he lowered that hand into his lap and hung his head. My heart ached for him and I wished I could hold him. Every feeling I’d picked up on before we got to know each other was correct, he was lonely and actively creating more distance between everyone he could. I left my palm flat against the table and asked, “If you want to be alone, then why are you here with me?”

He eyed my fingers and then my expression, contemplating what to say and when I didn’t get an answer I pushed my chair back and stood up. Stacking the plates and beers to clear the table, I moved around him and he finally gave in. “I don’t want to be alone, I just think it’s best for me to be alone. And if I was with someone, I’d just end up hurting them.”

I paused, trying to swallow his words. I understood what he meant but that still didn’t answer why he was sitting at my table. Fighting off my every instinct to comfort him, I clutched the edge of the sink so hard my knuckles turned white. When I felt my urge was slightly more under control I turned on the faucet and started working on the plates.

The noise of the water crashing against metal and ceramic pulled Bucky out of his distant daze and he hopped up immediately. “You made all that food, the least I can do is clean up the mess.”

He approached the sink, reaching his hands out to stop me but instead I just picked up the dishwashing liquid and squirted it on the pan, “No.”

Leaning against the counter on his hip, he tilted his head and pouted, “Come on, let me do something.” I glanced his way and tried not to notice the way his bottom lip jutted out. My need to soothe his pain shrunk but was replaced with the desire to do something else. I couldn’t quite navigate if my feelings were romantic or platonic but that didn’t matter because all I knew was I wanted him in my life.

I sighed, giving in, and tossed him a towel, “I wash, you dry.” Catching it, he gave me a victorious smile and closed the distance between us. He sidled up to me and waited until I finished scrubbing the plates. A hard, metal elbow brushed against my hip as I turned and handed him the dishes, and I caught his eyes darting to look at my side and then my face. His expression looked worried but I shook my head, “It’s fine Bucky.” His hands worked on the plates but his focus stayed on me. In the process of scrubbing a particularly hard stop of cheese I added, “I’m not afraid of you and if you want to be here, I won’t make you leave.”

“But you really should,” he muttered.

Letting out an exasperated groan, I turned to hand him the pan. “Well I won’t.” His metal hand reached out and grasped the handle my fingers were still wrapped around. “I’m not gonna walk away from you.” I worked up the nerve and placed my other hand on top of our joined ones. “And whatever it is you’re trying to hide from me, you don’t need to. I didn’t freak about this,” I dropped my gaze from his profile down to our hands, gesturing to his metal prosthetic. “And I promise I won’t flip about anything else either.”

Remaining frozen, he seemed to mull over what I was saying. When I removed my left hand from on top of his, he kept his grip on my right one. After what seemed like an agonizingly long second, he brushed his thumb gently back and forth across mine. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but my heart rate doubled and I knew no matter what he had to say I wouldn’t stop wanting the best for him.

I snaked my hand out from under his and let him finish drying the pan while I went back to work on the rest of dishes. “I’m here because I don’t want to be alone and you remind me of someone I used to know.” He placed the pan into another cabinet and turned to watch me. “Someone who didn’t back down or give up, and when you followed me down the street that day I knew no matter how hard I’d try to stay away from you, you’d keep coming back. So instead of fighting you, I’m here.”

“That was smart of you,” I smirked, gently bumping his hip with mine. “Also, tell me more about this friend.”

Glancing over, I caught the corners of his eyes crinkling and a small smile spreading across his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called smart.” If he hadn’t been grinning I might have hugged him right then, but I handed him the pizza tray instead. “His name is Steve and we met when we were young and some kids tried to steal his lunch money so I stepped in…” he continued on, saying the most he’d said the entire night, getting caught up in a sentimental moment. But I couldn’t focus on the words coming out of his mouth anymore.

He had seemed so familiar to me since that day in the rain but I thought he’d just looked like someone I’d met before, yet all the pieces were falling into place. A Steve and Bucky that grew up together in Brooklyn. A Steve that never backed down from a fight, and a Bucky who played his protector. His jawline and his cheekbones, his blue eyes and cocky smirk, and the way his light blue eyes could gaze right through you or make you melt with playful glance. I’d stared at pictures of this man in my history books, seen videos of him in class, read about his best friend and him for years. In my mind I was cutting his hair, shaving his face, thinning him down and placing him in fatigues.

He hadn’t noticed that my entire body had stilled and cutting him off too quickly, I murmured, “What’s your last name?” He turned to face me, a question on his lips as his brows furrowed. “Bucky, what’s your last name?” I managed to ask a little louder.

Eyes growing wider, he took a step back from me. “I don’t think that’s a good-.”

“Bucky, what is your last name?” I spoke clearly and loudly this time. I watched him clench his jaw and spread his legs more, preparing to go on the offensive if needed but I couldn’t let him see me as a threat. I moved quickly and grabbed both of his wrists in my hands. “Just… say it.”

He wouldn’t look at me as his whispered, “Barnes.” I dropped his hands and took a sharp inhale of air, holding it in my lungs for several seconds before letting it out. “I should go,” he started and stalked toward the couch, reaching for his jacket.

“Wait-,” I called out, following him across my living room. He didn’t stop but he slowed as I cornered him against the couch, keeping his back to me. “James Buchanan Barnes,” I said, forcing my voice to come out calmly and steadily. He twitched at his full name and I couldn’t stop myself anymore, I gripped his shoulder and forced him to turn. Pivoting toward me with his jacket in hand, his face remained hard and unreadable. I grabbed his jacket from him and tossed it back on the couch. “Say something.”

His steely eyes boring into mine, “You figured me out and now you’re freaking out.”

I closed my eyes and let out a deep sigh, screwing whatever self control was. “No,” I shook my head and reached for his wrists again. He clenched his fingers into fists but let me move them. I placed his left palm against my chest, just over my heart, and his right hand against the the base of my neck and waited for him to extend his fingers. After a moment of resistance, he unfolded them, resting his fingertips just above my collarbone and on my pulse point. I knew my heart rate was quick but not because of fear or panic, more so because Bucky was touching me.

“I’m not freaking out, I’m just processing.”

“But your heart is racing...,” he cut in, feeling my heart and lungs pounding against my chest.

“Not because of that,” I shook my head and tried to slow my breathing and pulse. “More because of this.” I gave his wrists a little squeeze to indicate my quickened heart beat was because his hands. “And not because I’m scared of you, but because I uh,” I started to explain but lost my nerve. Until a minute ago I barely knew anything about this man, but the way butterflies tickled my stomach and my skin tingled and warmed under his hands made it clear that I wanted more from him. I wanted his mouth against mine, wanted his arms around me, wanted our fingers intertwined.

“You what?” he prompted, his lips parting as his eyes stayed trained on mine.

“I um,” I dropped my hands from his wrists and focused on his chest, because I was afraid to see his reaction. “I kinda like you.”

The metal hand dropped from my chest but his flesh hand remained against my neck, only sliding to the side. “I like you too.” Yet his tone was oblivious to what I’d truly met, completely unaware of how I reacted to his tiniest smile, or chuckle, or even touch. He hooked his thumb under my jaw and angled my head so I’d look at him. The hardness of his features softened as he stared at me, locking us both in a silent moment of intimacy.

Staring into his blue eyes, I knew my filter with Bucky was gone now and honesty would spill out of me whether I wanted it to or not. I shook my head and stepped away from him, “Not like that, not in the same way.” He let me go and I walked to the fridge, trying desperately to find something else to focus on besides him. My gaze landed on the cheesecake sitting on the shelf, and with a deep sigh I carried it to the countertop. “I forgot about dessert.”

Standing there, with his shoulders hunched and head tilted forward, causing his hair to fall over his face, he was the effigy of a lonely man. When he unlocked his limbs, his jaw clenched as he gave me a tight-lipped, “I should probably still go.”

“That’s not necessary Bucky,” I responded, pulling out the plum and blackberry sauce I’d made for dessert. He looked at the door, weighing whether he should leave. When he remained in the same spot for another moment, I went to him. Raising my hands slowly, I gently slid my fingers across his jawline, his scruff scratching my skin. When my palms rested on his jaw and my fingers on his cheekbones, he tried to shake my hands off but I stilled his head so he was looking at me. “If you want to go, I won’t stop you. But if you’re trying to leave because you think that’s what I want, or because you think that’s what’s best, I assure you that you’re wrong.”

The way he looked at me almost pulled me onto my toes and towards his mouth, but I focused on all the planes of his face and the way he felt under my hands. After another silent minute of intimacy he leaned his cheek against one my hands and nodded, relaxing into me again. “I’m happy you made that decision, because if you went home now you’d miss out on cheesecake with a plum and blackberry sauce.”

“Plums?” he asked, inching his mouth the tiniest bit closer to my hands, his bottom lip brushing against my palm. I nodded and his hands rose to my forearms, gently slipping up to my wrists. “How did you know?”

“I caught you picking plums the day you first paid attention to me.”

“Normally I’d be much more concerned about you watching me,” he started, releasing my wrists and moving towards the table. “But against my better judgment, I’ll admit that you really do seem like the last person in the world who could hurt me.”

I shrugged as I went back to the counter and began cutting the cheesecake. “People watching you might be a serious and threatening risk the rest of the time, but don’t worry about me.” I mean, he had to be stalked or watched, he was a hundred year old man with a very technologically advanced prosthetic, but my interest in him had started well before I knew any of those things. “Granted, you could consider my behavior a bit creepy.”

“Creepy doesn’t really fit you,” he smirked from the table as I carried two plates of cheesecake to him. “But I’ll just take it as flattery.” Placing a dish in front of him, he chewed on his lip waiting to be able to take a bite. I held a finger up to him, making him wait as he picked up his fork. As I spooned the compote over the top of the cheesecake, he let out a little moan of excitement.

“No more of that please,” I whispered as I looked up from under my lashes. His cheeks grew red at my words and I tried not to look too proud of my small achievement. Sitting across from him, I finished prepping my dessert before we both took our first bites at the same time. As I chewed my food, Bucky let out another playful moan and my eyes shot up to him from my plate. My neck and chest felt warm, like my blush was attempting to spread from my face to my entire body.

He finished chewing as a playful grin spread across his lips, and as I glared him down he threw back his head and laughed. And it was not just any laugh, it was a deep, loud laugh that rose from his belly, consumed every inch of his body, and sounded like music to my ears. The infectiousness of the sound forced me to break my glare and smile with him.

After his laughter died down and he took another bite of cheesecake, my focus turned back to conversation. Unsure of how he’d respond to me fishing to get answers out of him, I wanted to approach the discussion with subtlety. “Tell me more about growing up in New York?”

He swallowed his bite, “I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”

Letting out a deep sigh, I decided to screw delicacy, “I mean, I probably already know a little about your life before the war.”

“You do?” his eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah,” I nodded, chewing another small bite of food. “You’ve been in my history books since I was like 10.” Tilting his head as he continued eating, his features displayed a question. “You, and Steve, and the rest of the Howling Commandos. You’re a significant piece of history, helping fight Hydra.” His jaw twitched at the mention of Hydra. “Textbooks focused on Steve since you know, he’s Captain America, but they still talked about you being his best friend and growing up together. I mean, I question the validity of all that, so if you want to tell me you can.”

He hesitated, staring at a large piece of plum on his fork, “I uh, well Steve was my best friend since we were kids. I talked about him earlier, but he was just a little fighter, always ready and revving to go. Of course he was too little to not get his ass beat so I always had to step in…” Bucky continued talking about Steve, with the same nostalgic smile on his face from earlier. I continued eating, watching him speak enthusiastically, enjoying a piece of Bucky from before the war.

After listening to him animatedly discuss growing up with Steve, and even admitting to being a bit of ladies man, I didn’t want this Bucky to disappear again. I didn’t want this excited and relaxed man to be replaced by his lonely, timid, and worried self, but I needed to ask him something else. “Bucky,” I started as I pushed my empty plate away from me. “Where have you been for the last 70 years?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Shaking his head just the slightest bit, a piece of his hair slipped in front of his face.

My fingers twitched against the table, instinctively wanting to tuck the strand behind his ear. “Try me.”  

“Did you ever learn anything about Arnim Zola?” he asked, his gaze dropping back to his empty plate.

“Um, briefly, but yes, he was a scientist in Hydra that worked with the Red Skull.”

He nodded, exhaling a deep breath, “I’d already been experimented on before I fell off that train, and somehow I survived the fall and was taken to Zola.” Controlling my reaction as best I could, I reached across the table again with the intention of resting my hand on top of his metal one, but he pulled it from the table before I had a chance to make contact. “That’s how I ended up with this,” he held his chrome fingers up to the light, staring at them with disgust. “He did shit to my head, made me something-, something less than human. Turned me into a tool for Hydra, an assassin for them, and for the last 70 years I was doing their bidding with no memory of who I was.”

“How did you get out of it?” I asked, keeping my hand outstretched, hoping he’d drop his back onto the table. I wasn’t scared of him, no matter what he’d done or who he’d been. The Bucky sitting in front of me was obviously not the same person who’d been brainwashed to do all those horrible things.

“Uh, I actually was sent on a mission to kill Steve, and my programming started to fall apart.” He placed his hand back on the table, but several more inches away from mine.

Metal arm, long brown hair, assassin after Steve, unsurprisingly none of this sounded fake because I’d already known about it. “That happened in DC. You were the Winter Soldier,” I announced, my eyebrows rising in understanding. His jaw tensed at my mention of his old alias.

“How do you know that name?” he nearly growled, shifting his body forward and firmly pinning my hand against the table with his metal one.

I wanted to flinch at his sudden change of tone and presence, but I knew if I did he’d feel worse about his actions later. “That wasn’t the best kept secret after Hydra fell, and while you were in DC I was in Baltimore at graduate school. One of my best friends from undergrad was working in SHIELD then and survived the hostile takeover. He told me about what happened that day, and that included a foreign assassin with a metal arm. Also there’s been mention of you in several different forums on the internet for several years.”

Releasing part of the tension from his body, he sat back into his seat and loosened his jaw, “Sorry, I, I guess it’s still instinct.”

This time I wasn’t letting him get away, and I grabbed his metal hand as he tried to remove it from mine. His focus shot to my face, wondering what I was doing but I kept my actions gentle yet purposeful. “That’s okay, I’m not afraid.” Pulling his hand back down, I laid his knuckles against the table and rested two fingers where the lines inside of a human hand would have been. “Can you feel this?” I asked gently trailing my fingertips down his palm.

“Yes,” he answered quietly, his eyes closing as I traced small circles onto the hand’s metal plates. “But barely.”

“So you can feel weight and pressure since I saw you do so at the fruit stand.” Nodding, his eyes remained shut as he tried to focus on my touch. “Can you feel temperature and texture?” I asked as my other hand slipped over his thumb and I applied a bit more pressure. Obviously the metal didn’t give the same way flesh did, but I did my best to recreate what would have been a hand massage on actual skin.

“Texture, yes,” he groaned giving into what must have felt nice to him. “Temperature is relative, your hands feel warm against mine because the metal generally stays colder. Things that are colder feel cool, but not cold. The arm has a harder time working in the cold, which is normally how I gauge temp. But it can handle heat and lots of it.”

“What about pain?” I asked, continuing to work the layered plates under my fingers.

His eyes opened but his body stayed relaxed. “Yes, but it’s different than human pain. If someone were to tug at my arm, it’d hurt like hell. But fire doesn’t burn, sharp objects tend to break on contact, bullets feel like pressure but bounce off. Something has to push or pull really hard and in an unnatural way before it feels like human pain.”

I worked my pressure down each of his smooth fingers, focusing on where his joints would be. “I don’t know why you’re not afraid of this,” he started, giving his fingers a small twitch under my own.

“Just like the Bucky you were before the war, and the Bucky you were after you’d been experimented on, this is a part of you too.” As I reached the tip of his pinky, I finished kneading his hand and flipped it over.

“Yes, a horrible, violent part of me that murdered lots of people without even blinking.”

I gently patted his hand with my own, “Yes, but the person sitting in front of me knows what he did, and you clearly are still wrestling with it. The person who killed all those people is not the person you are today. It is a part of you, but so is every other thing you’ve done or been through. The person in front of me, the person you are now is someone I trust.” His eyelids grew heavier as he features softened to a dreamy look. At that moment I knew he felt safe with me and that I might be one of the first people he’d felt safe with in a very long time. As I squeezed his metal hand I added, “And I trust you to be in control of what this piece of you does.”

His head tilted to the side, watching me closely as I slid back into my chair taking my right hand from his metal one. I reached my left one out instead, finding his flesh hand on the table. Rotating his hand, he slipped his fingers between mine, interlocking them, “I’ll try my best to live up to your faith in me.” I could only smile and nod at him. This soft side of Bucky appeared less than any other side of him, but I knew it somehow was the sum of everything he’d been through. After another silent moment of hand holding, he sat forward, “I should probably go.”

Glancing at the clock on the wall brought me back to reality, and I reluctantly let him go. Nodding, I rose from my chair and he followed me across my living room. Standing in the small hallway, I waited to let him out as he slipped his jacket on and grinned my way, “(Y/N) thank you again, for everything tonight. This was a really nice evening, and I don’t think I’ve had one of those in a long time.”

“Well thank you for keeping me company, and I’ll keep whatever was said here tonight quiet,” I smiled as I did a locking motion towards my mouth. “And I’m sorry if I made you talk about anything you didn’t want to. I didn’t mean to pry but I guess I did.”

His large form approached me with a soft smirk on his lips, “I told you those things because I wanted to. It’s probably good for me to talk about it.” He stopped directly in front of me, his entire body just mere inches from mine as we both faced each other in such a small space. Looking up to meet his gaze caused a piece of my hair to fall over my eye. He chuckled as he lifted his human hand and brushed it out of my face, “And I like you.” I felt my breath hitch as his calloused thumb rubbed against my cheek and he licked his lips. “And yes, in the same way.”

Dropping my eyes to his wet lips, I felt like my entire body was about to turn to jelly. His lips moved towards mine slowly, and I looked back up at his eyes just as they closed and his lips brushed mine gently. I stayed frozen for only a second, in shock that this was really happening, and as my own eyes shut I kissed him back. His soft lips molded to mine, and as I slid my hands up his shoulders and gathered them behind his neck, his composure crumbled. His metal arm met the wall and as I rose onto my toes to get a better angle to his mouth, his body pushed mine against the wall.

His flesh hand moved from my face to my hip as he pressed my body against his. Our mouths separated the tiniest bit to allow him to slide his tongue against my bottom lip, seeking entrance and with a smile on my lips, I welcomed him in. As the kiss deepened, every nerve ending in my body felt electric and my hands knotted into his hair to steady myself. He tasted of the berries and cream he’d just eaten and I greedily kissed him back, slipping my own tongue against his lips, needing more of him. His hand slid from my hip to the small of my back, lifting me off the wall gently and even closer to him as his beard scratched against my skin. I tugged on his hair and felt him moan against me, causing my entire lower body to flood with heat.

And just as that sound of pleasure seemed to set me off, it did the opposite for him. His mouth left mine and his open lips panted for air. He rolled his head back as he held me against him, and I heard a whispered, “wow” escape him. Moving his hand back to my hip, he placed more space between us but all I wanted to do was pull him against me again and attach my lips to his neck. He wouldn’t look at me for another moment and I pulled my hands away from him, resigning myself to the fact that the moment was over.

“Thank you again,” he murmured as he touched his lips gently and tilted his head down to look at me.

“You’re more than welcome,” I said, trying to not let my disappointment show through my smirk. I unlocked the door and he turned toward it, his face still appearing shaken. As I pulled the door towards us, he looked over his shoulder at me and gave me a small smile, and I knew then that although I wanted more from him, this was the most he could handle right now and that was a victory for him. I watched him walk out my door, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure I could see the smile on his lips.

As he got halfway up the flight of stairs I remembered that he hadn’t tasted like wine, and that was because I forgot about the bottle that was chilling in my fridge. And that bottle and the rest of the cheesecake was an excuse to invite him over again. I called out to him as he got to the next flight of stairs, “I forgot about the wine. You’ll have to come over some time and help me drink it.”

He chuckled from the floor above me and peeked over the railing. “I’d really like that,” he smiled and I couldn’t help but grin back this time. I closed my door right after he disappeared from the stairwell, and leaning against my door, I bit my lip and let out a little squeak.

This had definitely been a date.

Tags: @irishdancr24 @suz-123

[ohwhatamessiam]

Give  -Part 3

Summary: Bucky and (Y/N) had an amazing yet brief relationship in Bucharest before all hell broke loose. Two years later they reconnect in a bar in Brooklyn, but things have changed and neither are the same as they were before. Will their relationship survive or is a break up inevitable?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Possible language, brief mention of death, alcohol consumption, lots of discussion of food and food prep (sorry y’all that’s something I accidentally do in all my fics) lots of fluff and cute Bucky, some angst I guess? 

Author’s Note: Hi again! This is part 3 of my submission to @bladebarnes’s #bladehits2kchallenge with the song Give by You Me At Six. Still all first person narration and living in flashback-ville for a few more chapters. A huge I love you and owe you my first born adopted dog to @lostboyinneverland. Also here’s a Spotify playlist to listen to while reading the entire fic. Hopefully you’ll enjoy this, and if you do let me know!

Part 1 and Part 2

The first time I saw Bucky Barnes’ without gloves on was in my apartment. In fact, it was a day full of firsts. I’d waited another 24 hours to get better from my stomach stuff, and then the next day I’d decided to thank him again for his kindness and ask if I happened to make dinner the next night, if he’d be willing to join me. I somehow mustered up the courage to walk up to his door and knock 3 times. When there was no answer I knocked some more and got no response again.

I huffed out a breath and took the stairs back to my apartment quickly. Darting around to find any paper, I ripped out an empty back page of one of the books I was reading and jotted down with a sharpie, “Thanks for the soup again, I really appreciated it. And if I were to hypothetically make dinner tomorrow night, would you be interested in helping me eat it?” I signed it with my name and folded it before slipping it under his door.

I paced back and forth in my apartment for the next couple hours, waiting for a response. Maybe the paper had gotten lost when he opened the door? Or maybe he didn’t want to hurt my feelings by saying no? Maybe I was delusional to think he’d even want to spend time with me?

There was just something about him that seemed lonely, distant, and almost fearful. I’d been that way for most of my life, specifically until right before my grandmother passed and she had a heart-to-heart with me. She was the reason I was traveling around Europe, trying to go after what I wanted, and make my life my own. Before I’d come to Europe, I would have never asked Bucky to come over for dinner. I’d never have followed him for multiple blocks to get his name. And maybe my courageousness was misplaced.

Just as I thought I wasn’t going to get an answer, the paper slid back under my door. I tried to pace myself but practically sprinted to see his answer. Sitting down on the floor in front of my door, I unfolded the thick sheet. He’d scrawled in jagged writing, “I’d love to, what time should I come over?” below my original question and a grin so big it made my cheeks hurt stretched across my face. Clutching the paper against my chest, I laid back against the floor of my apartment and let out a tiny squeak. He actually wanted to spend time with me.

Unsure of whether this was going to be a platonic hangout, a date, or something in between I decided to tell him to come over around around 6:30 pm. It seemed early enough to not appear like a romantic, late night dinner, but not too early to seem like a friendly get together. After jotting down the time I snuck up the stairs as quietly as possible and slipped the paper back under his door before going back to my apartment.

I was writing a list of things I would need to make dinner when I heard his footsteps lead to his door heavily. Bucky could move as quietly and quickly as he wanted, but now that he knew me he seemed to relax and not be in stealth mode all the time. I smiled as I heard his door open a moment later, as if he was looking for me but I wasn’t there. “See you then,” his throaty voice carried through the stairwell and to my apartment. I fell asleep that night dreaming about all the ways this dinner could go right or wrong.

The next morning I woke up early to go buy fresh produce for our dinner. Luckily I had already planned on making myself a crispy, thin crust pizza and had dough chilling in my fridge since two nights before. Knowing Bucky was from Brooklyn gave me more ideas for dinner though. Obviously a good New York style pizza would be welcome, especially considering Romanian pizza was quite a bit different than New York style, but I wanted to offer him another piece of home. I figured I could make a cheesecake for dessert and hot dogs kept coming to mind too. It would not be easy to find good hot dogs in Bucharest, but the excitement building inside me said I’d walk as far as I needed to find whatever might make Bucky smile or chuckle again.

I traveled all around the city, gathering fresh veggies, fruit, cheeses, bread, herbs, alcohol, and I had even managed to find some hot dogs that weren’t from a street cart. I spent the majority of the late afternoon working on the cheesecake, and then the hour or so before he was supposed to show up I started on the pizza. I changed while the pizza cooked and had quite the staring match with my closet. In the end I decided to wear a dress, but more of a casual black lace skater style dress. I wanted to look cute, but not like I was preparing for a gourmet meal. When the oven went off I took the pizza out, slid it onto a plate to cool, and then placed the hot dog buns into the turned off oven to warm. I pan fried the hot dogs last, not knowing whether he’d even eat them, but freshly cooked hot dogs were always better than re-warmed ones.

When the food was all ready, I had 10 minutes before he was supposed to arrive to pick up my apartment and do my makeup. I threw all my dirty clothes that were laying around in the hamper I hid in the closet, and I lit two of the candles he’d helped me buy to combat some of the food smells. I slapped on the most makeup I could in the time I had left, which was pretty much a bb cream, brows, mascara and a little bit of lip gloss.

Three heavy thuds came from my door as I finished applying my lip gloss and checked the clock. He was 3 minutes early. I scrunched my hair up a bit and sprayed a small amount of perfume on my wrists and neck as he knocked again. “Coming!” I called out as I scurried for the door. I yanked the door open more eagerly than I had intended but his knocking sounded impatient and I didn’t want the night to start badly.

I smiled at him with my teeth and took a deep breath before I let out a quiet, “Hi.” He met my gaze for only a moment before his eyes dropped to look at what I was wearing. He had apparently decided to clean up for me a little as well. His hair was freshly washed and combed, with no hat in sight. He was wearing a pair of dark wash jeans I hadn’t seen before, a black long sleeve henley with a white tank underneath, his jacket, and his gloves although he was holding one hand behind his back.

Regaining his focus, he looked at my face again. “Uh, um, hi,” a small smile tugged on his lips. “You look, uh, really nice,” his smile wavered but I caught a small blush starting on his cheeks.

“I mean, the last time you saw me I was a mess after spending the whole night vomitting, so anything is nice in comparison,” I shrugged and dropped my gaze, trying to deflect his compliment. If this wasn’t a date, I didn’t want to get my hopes up.

“No you look really good, period,” he corrected me, causing a slight blush to spread across my own cheeks. I looked up at him from under my lashes and tried to not give away how my stomach suddenly jumped into my throat. So okay, this might be a date. “These are for you,” he added as he lifted a bouquet of flowers towards me, pushing our focus away from each other.

I took the flowers from him and smelled them for a moment, my smile becoming smaller but more hopeful. “Thank you, they’re beautiful.” Okay, this was probably a date. I stepped back from the door and waved him into the apartment, before turning on my heel and going to the kitchen to find something to put the flowers in. He paused with his feet on the door frame, his weight causing it to squeak under him. He stood as still as possible, inspecting my hallway closely. “I promise it’s not booby trapped. A little worn and dusty but not dangerous.”

His gaze snapped back to me and I could have sworn he gulped, but he put on a slightly apologetic face and stepped into my hallway carefully. After I’d placed the flowers into an empty liquor bottle filled with water, I glanced over my shoulder to find him standing at the end of the hallway, taking in my entire shared living room, dining room, and bedroom space. “You can leave your jacket on the couch if you want,” I told him, trying to encourage him to relax. After he finished analyzing my apartment, he nodded and laid it across the armrest.

“I hope you don’t think it’s too cheesy, but I made a couple New York classics,” I spoke turning my back to him again. I grabbed the plate of hot dogs and moved them to the counter before I grabbed a couple condiments from the fridge. I kept my back to him for another moment, fussing with the buns and the pizza. I could feel him behind me, closer than he’d been to me all night and I was afraid to see his reaction. Suddenly doing a theme dinner seemed less cute and more tacky.

When I turned around, he was leaning against the counter behind me with his right hand reaching out toward my arm. He dropped his hand as I moved the food and then leaned against the counter edge perpendicular to him. “It looks great,” he said, his eyes appearing soft and the same small smile from the doorway tugging on his lips. “I haven’t been back to New York in a while, so I really appreciate it.”

“I know it’s a little tacky, but I don’t know. I just figured a little piece of home might be nice,” I said, avoiding his eyes as I started cutting the pizza. He stayed quiet for a moment, causing me to second guess myself for what was feeling like the hundredth time.

His fabric wrapped fingers gently brushed and then wrapped around my wrist, stopping me from moving. We both stared down at our hands for a second before he looked at me again, “It’s perfect.” I tried not to grin too hard when he kept his grip on my wrist for another moment, but a couple seconds later he let me go and I continued cutting the pizza. “You know you didn’t have to do this all for me.” He dropped his hand and leaned a little farther back, putting more distance between us.

“I know.” I tried regaining my confidence, remembering how ballsy I’d been when I’d chased him down the street and asked him to come over. “I wanted to.” I peeked at him, finding another flush on his cheeks. “What would you like to drink? I have wine, beer, water, and a little bit of soda.”

“What are you gonna drink?” he asked, leaning both his elbows against my counter and sticking his butt out a little.

“Probably a beer,” I answered as I pulled out a couple plates and tried not to focus on how cute his ass looked in those jeans. “Since hot dogs and pizza normally pair best with beer.”

“Then I’ll have a beer too.” Placing two beers on the counter, I used my bottle opener to pop the caps off and then slid one to him. He nodded his thanks and took a swig. I watched as he gulped and kinda squinted at the alcohol in his mouth, and the face he made nearly made me laugh. I smothered my grin with my own beer and then got to work putting together a hot dog for me. “It’s been a minute since I’ve had a beer,” he added, trying to recover. After a moment, he took another gulp and his reaction was nearly identical. That time I couldn’t help myself and I let out a snort. He tilted his head and scolded me, “Hey, no snorting at me. That’s how we got in this mess.” He broke out in a genuine grin then, and my heart felt like it hit the floor.

“The mess of you paying attention to me?” I asked taking another drink. He nodded, leaving that beautiful grin on his lips. “I think that worked out in my favor just fine.”

“How so?” He placed a bun and then a hot dog on his plate before adding the mustard I’d laid out and the sauerkraut.

“Well, you’re here aren’t you?” I silently thanked god that I’d picked the classic Coney Island toppings.

“Was that your plan all along?” he smirked as he raised his eyebrows, causing a cute set of wrinkles to appear on his forehead.

“No, I definitely did not plan for this all.” I grabbed two pieces of pizza and navigated past him to get to my tiny table with its mismatched wooden chairs. “And you wouldn’t be here if you had no interest in spending time with me,” I added as I playfully backhanded his shoulder.

My knuckles hit something hard and a metallic sound echoed from his arm. The charm and humor dropped from his face completely and he straightened his spine. Looking at his arm for a moment and then me, he gauged my reaction. I didn’t know what to say or what was going on, but if his demeanor changed that quickly something must be up. I didn’t want to press him on it so I sat down at the table like nothing happened, but felt interest clawing at the back of my mind.

As I took a bite of my pizza, he relaxed his body and added some slices of pizza to his plate. Taking the beer and plate to the table, he sat down across from me. He lifted the hot dog to his mouth with both of his gloves still on and my curiosity got the best of me. “You know you can take those gloves off. No use getting food stains on them,” the words came out muffled as I held a hand up to my mouth to cover the fact that I was still chewing.

His steely blue eyes darted to mine and his face stayed blank. When I shrugged after a moment and went back to looking at my food, he put his hot dog back down. He took his right glove off first, and I tried not to make it too obvious that I was paying attention. I’d never seen him without gloves on and I did not have an explanation for why he wore them all the time. Pale, long fingers emerged, with veins popping out of his hands and trailing up to his arms. He stared at me another moment, contemplating taking off the left glove, but he eventually sighed and peeled it off. I controlled my expression as much as possible as he uncovered a shiny metal hand, comprised of layers of tiny metal plates allowing him to move his fingers and wrist like joints.

He measured my reaction as he lifted up his hot dog and took a bite out of it. I did my best to not focus on his hand and instead watched his reaction to the food. After he realized that I wasn’t going to press him on his metal hand, he put on a little show for me, moaning just the tiniest bit as he chewed his hot dog. That moan somehow caused a warmth to spread through my entire lower body, and trying to control myself I crossed my legs and sat back a little farther in my chair. “Not quite as good as a Coney Island hot dog, but definitely the second best hot dog I’ve ever had.”

I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and took a bite of my own. “It’s not bad, but nothing beats a good cheese and bacon dog.”

He scoffed at my comment and took another bite of his hot dog before chiding me, “You know that’s a disrespectful thing to say to a New Yorker?”

“I do,” I nodded and tried not to smile since I was still chewing. “But I have a feeling you’ll be just fine.” He chuckled as he swallowed another bite and just as easily as the evening had begun, we launched back into playfully teasing each other and some actual conversation.

tags: @irishdancr24 @fangirlisms-22 @suz-123

[ohwhatamessiam]

Give  -Part 2

Summary: Bucky and (Y/N) had an amazing yet brief relationship in Bucharest before all hell broke loose. Two years later they reconnect in a bar in Brooklyn, but things have changed and neither are the same as they were before. Will their relationship survive or is a break up inevitable?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Language, angst, discussion of illness (stomach virus) and fluff I think is all for this slow burn.

Author’s Note: Hi again! This is part 2 of my submission to @bladebarnes’s #bladehits2kchallenge with the song Give by You Me At Six. It’s still all first person narration and I’m sorry that I suck, but parts 2 through 5 (maybe even 6) will all be completely flashbacks. But like cute or emotional flashbacks that I promise will hopefully be good. A god bless your beautiful soul to @lostboyinneverland for beta-ing for me again, I love you my bologna eating friend. Also here’s a Spotify playlist to listen to while reading the entire fic. Hopefully you all will like this and please bug me if you do!

And if you haven’t read Part 1 yet, please do!

The first time Bucky Barnes spoke to me was on the same busy street lined with vendor stalls. It had been 2 days since Bucky caught me snorting at his hair, and both days were spent inside my studio since it had been pouring rain in Bucharest. That alone time meant I hadn’t be able to get his strained smile off my mind.

Although the rain hadn’t completely stopped, it lightened to a sprinkle during the early afternoon on the third day and I needed to leave the apartment. Surprisingly, there were a few vendors open and one that I found easily was a candle stall. There were several people poking around, buying different size candles, and speaking much more fluent Romanian than I could fully comprehend. The little bit I could catch was discussing different apartments losing their electricity and needing light.

I snuck into the corner of the stall, picking up a couple of the pillars to smell. They each had different fragrances like lavender, lemon, and rose, but nothing too sweet or artificial. One of the signs at the stall said “3 pentru 10” meaning that 3 candles would equal 10 lei, the currency in Romania. I picked out 2 rose and 2 lavender and lemon scented candles and showed them to the man behind the stand. “Cât de-, de mult… pentru patru?” I stumbled, wanting to know how much 4 candles would cost.

He pointed to the sign that said 3 for 10 and I repeated my question again, knowing that I wasn’t fluent enough in Romanian to haggle about the candle prices. I felt Bucky’s strong and quiet presence behind me before he spoke, a flicker of familiarity and warmth spreading up from my gut. Pulling a tight yet polite smile across his lips, he approached the table and began speaking to the man. They went back and forth quickly, and I could barely keep up with what they were saying, but I caught that Bucky kept asking for the cost and that the stall owner was possibly trying to up the price of an extra candle.

After another moment of quick negotiating, Bucky turned to me, his blue eyes holding my gaze for the first time ever. In perfect English with no accent he said, “He wants 13.50 lei for them.” My eyes widened as I registered that he must not be from Romania, but I nodded, placed my candles on the table and dug into my wallet for the 13.50. His voice had sounded gruff when he spoke to me, but in Romanian he sounded smooth, almost musical. As I handed the man my money, Bucky’s covered fingers placed the candles into a brown paper bag quickly. After the man had waved me off, Bucky shoved the bag into my hands and turned on his heel.

I spun around to follow him, weaving past the few people on the street but he moved so much quicker than I could. “He-hey!” I called out as I followed him across the street, pulling the hood up on my jacket. “Mulţ-, uh, thanks!” He looked over his shoulder at me, his baseball cap shielding his eyes, and nodded. He turned his focus back to the street and continued to stalk away from me, but I wasn’t letting him go that easily. I picked up my speed and followed him for half a block until he stopped at a corner to wait for some cars to pass. “Hey! What’s your name?” I asked as I caught up with him, my breathing uneven.

“Why do you need to know?” he asked, his voice coming out low and gravely again. He turned to look at me, his blue eyes appearing gray and becoming harsher as his jaw tensed.

“Well we’re neighbors, and if I’m gonna keep seeing you around and you’re gonna go out of your way to help me, I should at least know your name.”

“You don’t need to know my name. You need to work on your Romanian,” he snapped, catching me off guard and almost making me flinch. He noticed how I reacted to his small display of aggression, and I saw his eyes soften the tiniest bit as he dropped my gaze and continued walking.

I ignored my nerves and continued after him. “Oh, come on. We don’t have to be best friends, I’m just new here and having a vaguely familiar face around would be nice.”

He came to an abrupt stop, causing me to nearly crash into him. Turning to face me, he let out an exasperated sigh, “You’re not gonna stop following me, are you?”

“Nope,” I smirked as I tilted my head to the side.

He looked away from me and took in a deep breath as he tightened his fingers into fists. As he exhaled he dropped his gaze back to me and spoke quietly, “My name is Bucky.”

Taking my small victory as it came, I gave him a toothy smile and stuck my hand out to shake his, “It’s nice to meet you Bucky, I’m (Y/N).” His eyes dropped to my hand and he stared at it like it was a foreign object. After a moment of awkwardly leaving my hand outstretched, I shrugged and dropped it. His dark blue eyes met mine once again and regarded me with a nod. I nodded back and just as quickly as he had stopped in his tracks, he turned and continued on his way. This time I didn’t follow him, but called out, “See you around.”

The first time I saw Bucky Barnes blush was in the doorway of my apartment. There was one more day of rain in Bucharest after I’d first spoken with Bucky. The day after that when the rain cleared up, I decided to adventure a little further into the city. I’d gone to a museum and a couple old churches, and on my way back to my apartment, I stopped at a small restaurant and ordered some food. Unfortunately, I found out about 3 hours later that whatever I’d eaten either wasn’t cooked, or my body just couldn’t handle it because I was up all night vomiting. Even after my stomach was empty I didn’t stop dry heaving until the next morning. When my stomach eventually calmed down, the rest of my body was so tired I passed out on my bed.

I didn’t stir until there was a series of loud thuds against my front door. I shot up out of my sleep too quickly and had to regain control over my gag reflex before I could even place my feet on the ground. The knocks started again and I pushed myself off my mattress and padded to the door. Peeking through the tiny peep hole, I caught Bucky’s sharp jawline and chin-length brown hair before I registered that he was there. I paused with my hands flat against the door and looked at what I was wearing. A pair of boyshorts, sports bra, and tank top would have to be good enough today, and I wiped around my mouth to make sure there was no drool or dried grossness left on me.

Unlocking the door, I realized my breath probably still smelled like vomit but I gulped my concern and tried to put on a pleasant smile to greet Bucky with. His left hand paused in mid air as if he was about to knock on the door again, and then he tucked his hair behind his ear and shoved the gloved hand in his jeans pocket. His right hand was tucked behind his back. “Hi,” I croaked out of my sore throat.

“Uh, um, hi,” Bucky stammered out as he glanced at my hair and clothes. His eyes settled on my feet and he pulled a brown paper bag out from behind his back. “I uh, heard you up last night, with all your ugh, sickness.”

“Oh god, I’m sorry if I kept you up,” I apologized as I dropped my gaze to his chest. Somehow he was wearing two shirts and a jacket over. I leaned a little closer to him while placing my hand on the door frame, focusing on his face again.

“No, no, I was just a jerk to you a couple days ago,” he said as he shook his head and then finally held my gaze, “And you said you didn’t know anyone here so I figured I’d do something to apologize.” He lifted the bag a little higher between us, prompting me to take it from him. “It’s supa de pui cu galuste, it’s the Romanian version of-.”

“Chicken noodle soup,” I finished for him as I accepted the bag. “Yeah, I know.” I peeked into the bag and found a quart sized container filled with soup, a sleeve of crackers, a bottle of ginger ale, and a bottle of Gatorade.

“You know the food better than you know the language?” he asked, his brows furrowing.

“Yes, yes, very much so,” I nodded as I turned on my heel and walked down the hallway to place the bag on my small kitchen table. “But admittedly, I’m much better with other languages than I am with Romanian.” Bucky stepped tentatively toward my door, pausing in the door frame and causing it to squeak. “You can come in, if you want.”

“No, no, I’m okay.” He hesitated in the doorway, peering around my apartment without ever entering it.

“Yea, it’s probably best, you don’t want to get sick if this is a stomach bug,” I said as I took the drinks out of the bag and placed them in the crappy, old fridge.

“Oh uh, I didn’t know if you’d drink either of those but I heard those are good for stomach issues.” I glanced over my shoulder at him and nodded before I shut the refrigerator door. “And um, I haven’t been sick in a long time.”

I walked back to the doorway, staying just a couple feet in front of Bucky, taking in his raised arms that were placed on either side of my door frame. His body language told me he was slowly becoming more relaxed with me, and as he settled into my doorway his shoulders appeared even broader and his biceps pulled against his jacket. I had to force my attention back to his face, yet I wanted to reach out and touch him or even yank him into the apartment. “I mean, that makes sense, you’re built like a fucking truck,” I said as I lifted my hands towards his shoulders but stopped myself before I touched him.

When I shifted my focus back to his face, I caught a slight flush spreading across his cheeks and that his blue eyes had gone wider than usual. “Ugh, sorry,” I clasped my hands in front of me, “I know I don’t know you very well and cussing doesn’t make the best impression.”

He leaned a little farther into my doorway, causing his hair to fall over his face as let out one of the most beautiful sounds I’d ever heard, a low, soft chuckle. “No, no, it’s okay. I used to be around more language, it’s just been a while. Even then, women didn’t curse around me much.”

At that moment, I knew I’d do anything to hear that chuckle again. I tried not to wring my hands together too tightly as I tried to handle the butterflies rising from my stomach. “I’m normally a little better at filtering out my language unless I’m with certain people, but I’ve been kinda sick so I guess my filter’s gone.”

“It’s okay, you just surprised me,” he started as he swiped his hair back behind his ears. We both heard a set of footsteps somewhere on the stairwell behind us. “But it was a good surprise, I promise.” He tilted his head to the side and gave me a smirk, “It reminds me of home.”

“Home?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Ugh, Brooklyn actually.” He removed his hands from my door frame but kept his relaxed body language as he looked at me, a small smile pulling across his lips as he thought about home.

“Ah, then you’re used to hearing way worse,” I nodded and peaked past his shoulder. The footsteps got closer, and when they sounded like they were a few floors away from us, I saw him stiffen, erasing every inch of comfortability between us. Noticing how he continued to stare at me but that his eyes had gone distant, I knew he was focusing on whoever was on the stairs instead of me. “But ugh, thanks again for the soup, I really appreciate it.”

He shifted his attention back to me and nodded, “You’re welcome, feel better.” He took a couple steps backwards, placing distance between us.

“I’ll try, and um, I’ll owe you dinner or something for this,” I added as he got closer to the flight of stairs above my apartment.

“You really don’t have to,” he said with modesty, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle.

“No I should, and we can figure that out later,” I answered as he stepped onto the first stair. “But thanks again, see you around.” He gave me a polite wave as he continued up the stairs and I closed my door a moment later. I watched him take the rest of the stairs to his apartment that were visible through my peephole, and tried to not focus on the fact that I’d maybe, just possibly, invited him over for a date.

Tags: @irishdancr24 @fangirlisms-22 @suz-123