#Bucky Barnes x fem reader
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starry eyed
bucky barnes x reader
word count: 3.2k
summary: reader gets a special gift from her secret santa
warnings/tags: mostly just fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers, avenger!reader, no use of y/n, one minor injury, language, kissing and some sensuality
author's note: short little feel good christmas fic! everyone is alive and happy because i say so. i originally got the idea for this fic last winter, but i hadn't got back into writing at that time. happy that i was able to put it into words finally.
my masterlist
âSo, whose name did you draw?â
You shove your hand into an oven mitt, grabbing a large dish out of the oven. Everyone had been assigned to bring a different breakfast food to the Christmas morning potluck.
Sam brought chocolate chip pancakes, Steve brought a shit ton of sausage links, and Sharon brought a giant fruit platter to name a few. You figured that the easiest, cheapest way to help feed a group of a dozen people is a couple tubes of Pillsbury cinnamon rolls.
âThat kinda takes the secret out of Secret Santa.â
Bucky leans on the island in the middle of the compoundâs kitchen, drinking his second cup of coffee of the morning. His breakfast dish of choice? A sack of two dozen McDonaldâs hash browns.
âI was just testing you,â Bucky jokes. âYou passed. Do you want to know who got your name?â
âNo!â You whack his stomach with the oven mitt and he feigns injury. âI do not. Have I passed all of your tests?â
âIâm proud,â Bucky says after a big gulp of coffee. âYouâre stronger than Sam, at least. Heâs been asking everyone who drew his name for the last week.â
You roll your eyes. âHe does that every year and no one ever tells him.â
Your friends begin filing into the kitchen, everyone grabbing plates and piling them high with all of the food scattered across the island. After making your plate, you retreat to the living room and nestle yourself between Natasha and Sharon on the couch.
Everyone is so occupied with stuffing their faces that thereâs hardly any conversation. You halfway pay attention to the Hallmark Christmas rom-com playing on the television as you devour a stack of pancakes and hash browns.
Truthfully, you had hoped to draw Buckyâs name from the hat. You had a gift in mind for him already, and if youâd gotten his name then it would have presented you with the perfect opportunity to give it to him without any pressure for him to give you a gift in return.
You ended up drawing Sharon's name, but you decided to get the present for Bucky, anyway â a vintage tabletop phonograph from the forties that youâd snagged for an incredible deal on eBay. You didnât put it under the gargantuan Christmas tree with all of the other gifts. It sits in your bedroom, waiting for you to give it to him later today when youâre not surrounded by all of your close friends.
To no oneâs surprise, Sam and Peter are the first people to finish eating and immediately begin handing out all of the presents under the tree. Youâre still finishing up your breakfast when Peter practically throws a small box wrapped in snowmen print paper towards you.
It's addressed to you, from your Secret Santa. Right off the bat, youâre sure that the gift didnât come from Natasha â you know how much pride that she puts into gift wrapping. Not that this gift is wrapped poorly, but compared to Natashaâs typically extravagant bows, youâre confident that she wasn't the one who wrapped this present.
You also notice that the handwriting appears to be more on the masculine side. It looks familiar, though you canât say with confidence who it belongs to.
âAlright, who wants to go first?â Sam says loudly enough to quiet all the chatter going on. âNo one would spoil my gift for me and Iâm getting impatient.â
You and Bucky share a knowing glance and eye roll at his words. He sits in a recliner directly across from you, holding the gift from his own Secret Santa.
âIâll go first,â you offer excitedly, giving the box in your lap a small shake that gives nothing away.
You carelessly tear at the wrapping paper until itâs in pieces by your feet on the floor.
âWhatâd you get?â Sam asks.
You donât respond at first, taking in the packaging of the box.
A northern lights projector.
You feel warmth spread across your cheeks and you canât help but smile down at the gift in your hands, no longer having any doubt about who this gift came from.
One Month Ago
âThese Spaghettios expired a couple weeks ago. Do you think we should risk it?â
You stand in the small kitchen of the Alaskan safe house, rifling through the limited options in the pantry. Some instant oatmeal packets, a few cans of Beanee Weenees, and the aforementioned expired Spaghettios are tonightâs dinner choices.
You canât say youâre surprised â youâve been doing this job for a while, and poorly stocked safe houses are pretty much the standard in this line of work. It doesn't help that this is the fifth night that you and Bucky have spent in this particular safe house, and you've eaten through all of the better options at this point.
âIf you want to risk getting food poisoning in addition to that sprained ankle, then you go for it. I'll be sticking to the oatmeal.â Bucky reaches around you, grabbing a packet of maple and brown sugar oatmeal from the shelf that you stand in front of.
He's right. The oatmeal is the safest option.
One more night of this, you remind yourself. Tomorrow night, you'd be back in the comfort of your room, where you can DoorDash Chinese food.
You sigh, grabbing the remaining packet of oatmeal.
âYou know, I wouldn't even mind the food situation nearly as much if I could just see the lights. Five nights here and nothing,â you grumble.
Itâs your first time in Alaska, and you had high hopes for being able to see the northern lights. Each night so far, after long days of recon, youâve stayed up past the point of exhaustion checking to see if theyâre visible.
So far, the weather had been nothing but rainy and dreary, making the sky close to impossible to see at night. The clouds finally let up some today, but you've still seen no hint of an aurora. Just inky blackness, a crescent moon, and a steady downpour of snow that began a few hours ago.
âYou could always get one of those projectors,â he teases with a shrug. âNorthern lights, galaxies, constellations⌠all right there on your bedroom ceiling.â
Even though he wonât say it, you know he wants to see the northern lights as badly as you do. He's made it obvious by the way he glances out the window every so often to check.
Youâve been hoping that theyâd make an appearance for him as much as for yourself. He's technically seen them before â decades ago. But never as himself. Never as Bucky.
âThose are neat,â you agree glumly. âI've just always wanted to see them in person. Kinda a bucket list thing.â
Getting to witness them with him would be the cherry on top, but you donât add that part.
Bucky insists that you sit down on the couch and ice your ankle while he prepares the instant oatmeal for the two of you. Youâre too tired to protest, so you retreat to the sofa and flip through the limited number of channels on the old TV with your foot propped up.
Fucking black ice. The last day of this mission and everything had gone swimmingly up until you slipped on a patch of clear ice earlier today, twisting your ankle.
Youâre just thankful that it happened in front of Bucky, and not Sam. You can only imagine the teasing that would have ensued if it had been Sam that saw you eat shit.
The two of you eat by the warmth of the dwindling fire while watching a Seinfeld re-run.
Youâre over three thousand miles from New York, but it doesnât feel like youâre far from home at all. Bucky and you have been mission partners for quite some time now, and he has a way of making you feel like youâre at home, no matter where youâre actually at. His presence is familiar and comforting â whether youâre at the compound, or in a different country, or in Alaska â the familiarity and comfort of home is there, as long as he is.
âIâm gonna go get some more wood for the fire before bed,â Bucky says when he finishes scarfing down his food. You give him a quick nod, your mouth still crammed full of oatmeal. âYou stay here and try not to sprain anything else,â he teases with a glance at your foot thatâs elevated on the coffee table in front of you.
You shoot him an obscene gesture once his back is to you. âYou act like my leg got cut off,â you grumble as he exits the house.
No more than ten seconds pass before you hear him call your name from beyond the front door. You look over your shoulder with wide eyes and he all but sprints back into the house with an animated expression.
âWhat? What is it?â
âThe lights. Theyâre visible,â he exclaims. He walks over to the couch, taking your bowl from you and sitting it on the end table next to you before you can process whatâs happening. He offers his flesh hand to you in an attempt to help you up.
âHoly shit, really? You better not be messing with me.â You push yourself up off the couch, momentarily forgetting all about your ankle.
âIâm not messing with you,â he snorts. âCome see for yourself.â
Bucky wraps his arm around your waist and you throw yours over his shoulder, helping you walk to the porch without putting too much pressure on your injured foot. You lean into him, his body heat providing a nice reprieve from the night air as you step outside.
You donât pull away, and neither does he.
Side by side, you stare up at the seemingly endless expanse of swirling rivers of blue and green. The auroral rays seem to dance across the sky, electrifying the night with the shimmering veils of color.
âWow,â you whisper in awe. Wow doesnât begin to cover how ethereal the phenomenon is, but youâre at a loss for words. Itâs one of the most beautiful things youâve ever seen.
You're acutely aware of the bitter chill of the cold wind. If it weren't for the fact that Bucky feels like a personal space heater, your teeth would be chattering. But with the view before you, you find it hard to care.
âIâd give anything to be able to see this where we live,â you breathe. You glance up at him to find him already looking at you.
âWouldn't you?â You ask him.
âI really would.â
Present Day
âOooh,â Natasha coos beside you, snapping you out of your memory. âA northern lights projector. I wonder who that could be from.â
You can tell by her tone of voice that she knows exactly who itâs from â even if you hadn't blatantly told her about seeing the northern lights on your mission with Bucky last month, she's too smart to not be able to figure it out herself.
You playfully elbow her in the side, silencing her teasing but the smirk on her face remains.
âThank you, Santa,â you say with a glance at Bucky. âI love it.â
The rest of your friends open their presents one by one. You try your hardest to pay attention, but all you can think about is how perfect you think the gift that Bucky picked out for you is. He could have just given you a gift card, or a generic gag gift, but what he gave you is personal, and sentimental, and thoughtful.
When all of the Christmas morning festivities have come to an end, you retreat back to your bedroom with your presents. Despite getting many great gifts from your friends, the one from your Secret Santa is by far your favorite.
You unbox the projector and set it up on your nightstand before plugging it in. As soon as you press the power button, the ceiling of your room is covered in shades of blue and green that mimic the natural hues of the northern lights that you had witnessed first hand just a month prior.
You flick your light switch off, making it easier to envision yourself standing under the Alaska sky. Of course, thereâs nothing like seeing the real thing, but itâs still pretty, and the meaning behind the gift is what makes you happier than anything.
Smiling to yourself beneath the undulating ribbons of turquoise and emerald, you canât help but replay the memory of standing under the aurora with Bucky.
How he got so excited when he went outside and realized the lights were visible, the contrast of his warm body against the cold night air as he helped you stand on your hurt foot, and the way that he was smiling at you instead of taking in the scene before him â
Your phone chimes from your back pocket, drawing you back to reality.
A projection probably doesnât really compare to the real thing, huh?
You smile at your phone, sitting down on your bed. You think of how you should respond when you remember the present you bought for Bucky that sits in your closet.
Come and see for yourself, you respond.
With his room being just a short distance down the hallway, itâs only a few moments before you hear a soft knock against your door.
âCome in,â you say softly.
Youâre suddenly overcome with a wave of nerves, and you tell yourself itâs because youâre antsy about giving him the present you'd picked out for him.
Bucky eases into the room, closing the door behind him. He takes in the display across your ceiling with his hands shoved in his pockets â a nervous habit of his that youâve noticed many times before, though you canât pinpoint why heâd be nervous right now.
âPretty cool,â he admits. He takes a seat in front of you on the edge of your bed and finally meets your gaze. âCanât say it quite compares to the real thing, but at least itâs a whole lot warmer here.â
âThe food is considerably better here, too,â you joke. âBut really, thank you. Itâs definitely the best Secret Santa gift Iâve ever received,â you add, cringing when you remember the toilet shaped coffee mug that Sam had gotten you two years ago.
You use it regularly, of course. But you like Buckyâs gift far more.
âAnd I got you a present, too,â you add in a small voice before you can chicken out. âI know I wasnât your Secret Santa, so I hope you donât think itâs weird. Itâs okay if you donât likeââ
âCan I tell you something?â He interrupts you. Heâs grinning big â the kind of grin that brings out the lines around his eyes. You snap your mouth shut and answer with a quick nod.
âI wasnât your Secret Santa originally,â he sighs. âNatasha was. But I convinced her to switch names with me.â
âBut whyââ
âI got your present as soon as we got back from Alaska, but then I started overthinking it⌠just thought it would be easier to give it to you if I had the excuse of being your Secret Santa,â he shrugs.
Youâre momentarily stunned. It dawns on you â heâd been worried about the exact thing you had. Youâd been so worried about him being weirded out by you getting him a gift that you waited until you were alone to give it to him, and heâd been so worried about getting you a gift that he convinced someone else to let him have your name in Secret Santa.
How silly of both of you, you think.
He sits by you on your bed, waiting for your response with a patient, albeit uncertain expression. Your eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips.
It had been a fleeting thought when you stared into his eyes under the colorful Alaskan sky â how beautiful it would be to kiss someone under such a serene and mesmerizing sky. How beautiful it would be to kiss him, here. It was a thought that you shoved down, out of fear for crossing a line and making yourself look like an idiot.
It's a thought that is once again at the forefront of your mind, sitting beside him in your bedroom under the imitation aurora.
Under the true northern lights, or under your bedroom ceiling in New York â it doesnât matter. You think kissing him would be beautiful anywhere.
And so you do.
Or he does â youâre not actually sure who leans forward first. But you are sure that he still tastes faintly of maple syrup and coffee from breakfast, and that when he cups your face in his flesh hand and tilts it to give him a better angle to sweep his tongue along your bottom lip, your brain turns to static white noise.
You let him set the pace â itâs slow and soft, like heâs trying to memorize the map that his tongue draws inside your mouth. You place one of your hands on the back of his neck, intertwining your fingers in the short tufts of hair.
Still holding your face in his hand, he pulls away with a gentle tug of your bottom lip between his teeth and looks at you in the blue-green glow of the projectorâs illumination.
âWas that my present?â he smiles, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. You laugh, reeling in the afterglow of the kiss.
You drop your hand from his neck, and hold up a singular finger to him, indicating for him to give you a moment. You walk over to your closet, retrieving the large gift bag containing the phonograph.
When you walk back over to your bed, you turn on your bedside table lamp for a bit more light before handing him the bag.
He smiles, blushing faintly as he pulls the tissue paper out of the gift bag. He eases the package out of the bag slowly, as if heâs scared the contents will break. You watch as he takes his time with the unboxing, now feeling a fresh wave of nervousness at the anticipation of him seeing the gift.
His smile only grows once he realizes what it is.
âMy ma used to have one just like this,â he murmurs in awe. He grabs your hand in his and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. âThank you. It's perfect.â
He turns to place it behind him on your mattress before pulling your face to his once more. Itâs shorter than the kiss before, but just as tender and sweet.
âBut just so you know, you could have just given me a kiss, and I wouldâve been just as thrilled.â
â˘â˘â˘â˘â˘â˘
thanks for reading!! i had fun writing this cute little piece âĄ
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes one-shot#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#christmas fic#fluff#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x fem reader
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Self care || Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Bucky always seemed interested in your skin care routine, so when one day he arrives tired and drained from a mission, you take the opportunity to show him the importance and benefits of self-care.
Warnings: established relationship, brief mention to Buckyâs past trauma, a fuck ton of fluff, my little knowledge of skin care lol
English is not my first language
Word count: 2200
Notes: this was inspired by a dream I had. I thought it was cute and I couldn't get it out of my head, so I wrote this little thing. If it doesnât make sense, blame my dumb dreams lol
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It was one of the first times you slept over at Bucky's place that you discovered he didn't have a skin care routine. He would look at you cleansing your face from the bathroom door, watching you apply creams and serums with a mixture of admiration and confusion in his expression. And every time you picked up a new product, he would ask you what it was and what did it do.Â
It didn't really surprise you, most of the men you had dated tended to use a small number of personal hygiene products and usually the facial skin was only treated with soap and water. And if that was men your age, it was to be expected that Bucky and his over one hundred years of age were not aware of the benefits of skin care.You found his reactions kind of adorable. It wasn't every day that you caught Bucky acting with the naĂŻve curiosity of a child, and you couldn't help but laugh as you answered his endless questions.
"Please tell me you at least wear sunscreen." You said and Bucky remained silent. "Oh my God, Bucky!" you complained, explaining to him how dangerous the sun was for his skin.
"After all I've been through, I don't think a little sun is going to kill me, doll." He laughed, coming up to you to hug you from behind. You wrapped your arms around his, smiling at him in the mirror as he rested his chin on your shoulder.Â
The bastard knew how cute he was âlooking at you through the mirror with blue eyes full of loveâ, and he was using it to his advantage to keep you from scolding him. He was probably right, the super soldier serum surely protected him from skin cancer in the same way it protected him from hits and falls that would be fatal to the rest of humanity. But still, it wouldn't hurt him to take care of himself a little every now and then.
"You smell nice." Bucky praised you, inhaling the subtle floral scent the creams had left on your skin. He gave you a kiss on the cheek, his stubble tickling your sensitive face. You laughed and he knew he had won.
"Don't think you're getting out of this so easily." you warned, tilting your head to the side so you could kiss him. "Flattery will get you nowhere!"
From that day on you decided that you would put together a skincare routine for Bucky. Super Soldier serum or not, everyone's skin needed a little help from time to time. And besides, you believed it was something that could benefit Bucky in more ways than just one. It would teach him to take better care of himself and to value the precious 'me time'. And god knew he needed that. So you made a mental note to buy a couple of products for him the next time you went to restock some of your kit and stopped thinking about it for a while.
That was until one day Bucky came home tired from a mission. You didn't quite know what he had to do and he didn't want to tell you much about it either when you asked him. Not knowing tore you apart, but you respected his wishes and didn't press the issue, deciding to help him in a way that wasn't invasive. You started with running him a bath, filling the tub with warm water and using some of your bath salts and lotions to create a more relaxing environment. You insisted on taking care of him, although Bucky didn't put up much resistance, surrendering to the soothing power of your caresses on his hair. Your fingers gently massaged his scalp, coating it with shampoo to remove all the dirt before rinsing it and repeating the process with conditioner.
He still found such intimacy a bit strange. Even though he enjoyed it, he still wasn't completely used to being cared for with the affection you showed him. It had been so long since anyone had treated him with such love and care that he could hardly remember it. But he felt safe in your hands, happy to have you in his life. A light of hope at the end of the dark tunnel of agony that had been his life. That was what you were to him. His second chance to live, to love. So he relaxed under your touch and let your gentle caresses take all the tiredness and worries out of his system.
But your pampering didn't end when Bucky got out of the tub. After he changed into his pajamas and laid down on his side of the bed, you emerged from the bathroom with a small white bag in your hands. You rested it on the nightstand and began pulling out various products he recognized from your skin care routine, arranging them in a nice neat line.Â
"Doll... what are you doing?" Bucky asked, looking at the pink cat-ear headband you held in your hands. It was the one you always wore when you did your makeup or skin care routine, a tool you used to keep your hair out of your face while you worked. He always thought you looked adorable when you used it, but he didn't understand why you were directing it at him this time.
"Taking care of you." You replied as if it were obvious, "I want to show you the benefits of having a good skin care routine." Bucky hesitated for a moment, but eventually gave in to your soft smile and the sparkle of enthusiasm in your eyes. There was nothing he could say no to if you looked at him that way.
He gave you a slight nod and you took that as a signal to continue. You climbed onto the bed, settling onto his lap with one leg on either side of him, so you could face him and work more comfortably. Bucky put his hands on your hips instinctively, the cold metal of his fingers giving you goose bumps at the unexpected touch. But you didn't move them, you liked his hands there.
"First we have to make sure your hair is out of the way." You announced as you placed the headband on his head, making sure no hair was out of place or near his face. You couldn't help but let out a giggle as you admired Bucky wearing the accessory. The pink, furry cat ears looked so out of place it was ridiculous. The clear feminine energy of the headband clashed against the distinctive masculine look on his expression in a fun and charming way. It made him look adorable if you were honest, especially when he smiled at you. He could definitely pull it off.
"How do I look?" Bucky asked, batting his eyelashes in an exaggerated fashion.Â
"Adorable." You replied between giggles, before giving him a quick peck on the lips.
When you broke apart, you began your skin care routine, taking a piece of cotton and your favorite micellar water to cleanse Bucky's skin. He looked at you closely, taking advantage of the position you were in to admire your beauty up close while you concentrated on soaking the cotton ball in the liquid. You were the most beautiful woman in the world, he was sure, and not only that, you were kind and loving too. A wonderful person all around and he still didn't understand how he had managed to get you by his side, but he was happy about it.
"Why do you have to clean my face? I just showered." Bucky mumbled with his eyes closed, feeling your delicate fingers on his chin as you ran wet cotton across his face.
You let out a giggle. "Water is not enough! And regular soap is too harsh on the skin of our face, so you need to use a cleanser or cream that is meant for the face."
"I never heard about that." Bucky frowned, tilting his head slightly to the side in confusion.
"Because you're a guy and guys are used to using one product for everything hygiene related."
âThatâs not true!â he tried to defend himself, although he didn't sound very convinced.
You decided to skip a few steps in the routine to keep things simple. The idea was not only to pamper Bucky and help him relax, but also show him that maintaining a skin care routine didn't have to be complicated and could bring him many benefits. So you went straight to the eye cream, taking some with your ring finger and carefully applying it to the bags under his eyes.
"Stay still! You're gonna make me poke your eye if you move like that!"
"It already feels like you're poking my eye!"
"Don't be so dramatic!" You laughed, men really were cry babies. "Just close your eyes and trust me." Bucky grumbled, pouting. You planted a quick kiss on his lips, and that seemed to please him because he kept his eyes closed and stopped moving. Carefully, you spread the eye cream over his dark circles, giving his skin time to absorb the product before proceeding with the last step.
"What is that?" Bucky asked you curiously as you reached for the last tub in the line of products.Â
"It's a night cream. You're supposed to use it at night after you wash your face to keep your skin moisturized."
"Isn't that what the other cream did?"
"No, silly! That was just for your under eye area, this helps hydrate the rest of your face. We need to give back all the good things we got rid off when we cleaned your skin of all the dirt and oils clogging your pores."
Bucky made an annoyed face, muttering about how complicated it all sounded. But the truth was, he was enjoying the extra attention you were giving him. He had you all to himself, the warmth of your body enveloping him in a comforting embrace as your fingers gently massaged his face. He couldn't think of a better definition of paradise than that. Just the two of you sharing an intimate moment, far from the horrors of the outside world. He could commit to a skin care routine if it involved at least a third of the pampering you were giving him at that moment.
"You don't need to use much," you continued your explanation, dipping one of your fingertips into the cream before bringing it up to Bucky's face. "Just a little bit here, here, here... and here." You painted a couple of white dots on his cheeks, forehead and chin, kissing the tip of his nose before applying a bit of cream to the area. It was such a cute and intimate act he almost blushed.
The first thing Bucky noticed about the cream was the scent. It had a light rose fragrance that was familiar to him, comforting even. It traveled up his nostrils as you massaged the cream into his face, sparking a warm and fuzzy feeling inside him. It took him a few seconds to understand that it was because that was the same rose scent he recognized on your skin whenever he kissed you, that sweet floral scent he had learned to recognize as home. He finally knew he had your choice in moisturizer to thank for it.Â
"You're using your cream on me?"
"Yes, it's the only one I had. The perfume doesn't last long, don't worry. I'll buy you an unscented one tomorrow."
"No, don't! I like this one, it smells like you... it's like having a little piece of you with me all the time."
You didn't expect him to say that, so you weren't prepared for the tingling warmth of love that coursed through your body. The idea that he wanted to keep you close at all times, that he recognized your scent and found comfort and safety in it, made your heart melt with love. Bucky was normally a man of few words, and tended to show his feelings with other things rather than words. Acts of service were his most common way of showing how much he loved you, although he also resorted to spending quality time together whenever you had free time. But every once in a while, he would manage to drop a sentence like that, which in concise words made it clear how much he loved you. Always taking you by surprise, he would drop them at the most casual moments, leaving you completely stupid for a few seconds as you processed his words and wondered what you had done to deserve having someone so wonderful in your life.Â
Bucky gave you a shy smile, cheeks turning pink under your gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable. He looked so adorable that you couldn't help but join your lips with his in a slow, loving kiss. He reciprocated immediately, one of his hands leaving your waist to cradle your cheek, pressing you tighter against him and deepening the kiss.Â
"I love you," you muttered against his lips, pressing your forehead against his as you gazed into his deep blue eyes.
Bucky smiled, feeling the last bit of stress evaporate from his system thanks to you and your sweetness. "I love you too."
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x fem reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n
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Adore Her, Dior Her
prompt: ( requested ) what good is having all that money if he can't spend it on the woman he loves?
pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Marvel
word count: 4.3k+
warnings: author foams at the mouth for Mafia AUs, overwhelming fluff, cursing, not edited.
"That's the one. That's one we should get!"
"You've said that about the past three dresses, Buck!" You groaned, smoothing your hands over the skirt. "We need to narrow this down, okay? The wedding's in a month!"
"Why did we even agree to go?"
You glared, "'Cause we love my brother and we're supporting him."
"But she's just so - "
"Jen. Her name's Jen."
Bucky nodded, leaning back on the cushioned chair, "Well, Jen's just wrong for him. Literally the definition of toxic."
"Does it count if they're toxic together? To each other?" You sighed, standing on the pedestal and turning to look in the three mirrors beside the dressing room.
"Of course it does," he stood, buttoning his suit jacket out of habit. He approached you, head cocking as he looked your body up and down to get the full view of the gown you tried on. "You're really okay letting him marry her? Turn this way a bit, baby, lemme see the front."
You scoffed, but took his offered hand and twisted on the small platform towards him, "You were there at Christmas, he doesn't listen to reason. So, if Daniel's convinced Jen's for him, as his sister, my only job is be supportive."
"They literally abuse each other," he pointed out.
"Well, he's not changing his mind. Okay? It's been three years, he won't budge, whenever someone brings up them breaking up, he goes into hiding - so, I don't know what else I can do," your hands slapped your thighs when you shrugged, "except just be there for him. Now, focus, please, help me narrow a dress down."
He shook his head as you turned to face the mirrors again, "Actually, you know what? I don't think anything in this store is for us."
The attendant perked up and scurried over, rushing, "Oh, well, we have a much larger selection in the back, Mr. Barnes - "
"That won't be necessary, Barbra, thank you, though," he nodded. "Doll," his hand planted on your waist, head over your shoulder as you still looked yourself over in the mirrors, "go get changed, I know where we need to go."
"Bucky, no, there's plenty of options here," you argued, twisting on the wee little pedestal to face him again. "We don't need to drop a stack on a dress - "
"You let me worry about the price tag," he smirked, leaning in to peck your cheek. "Just go change, pretty girl, c'mon. Step-to!"
You offered Barbra, the attendant, an apologetic smile as you shuffled back into the changing room; quickly stripping from the dress. When you exited in your street clothes, Bucky was tipping the aged woman for her effort in gathering your options, but the moment he saw you, his hand was extending to hold yours tightly.
"What was wrong with that store?" You asked when you stepped onto the noisy and busy street to approach the sleek, tinted car Bucky drove for day-to-day errands.
"We're not shopping at David's fucking Bridal."
"You literally drove us here," you laughed.
"Yeah, and then I had a much better idea," he smirked at you, unlocking the car and opening your passenger door. "C'mon, princess, just gotta trust me."
"Last time you said that - "
"That wasn't my fault," he groaned, cheeks flaring red in embarrassment. When you opened your mouth to retort, he rushed, "Aht, nope, don't say shit. C'mon, I'm taking you somewhere special so get that pretty ass in the car."
He grinned when you laughed and did as bid, feet safely inside when he closed the door after you were settled. Bucky easily jogged around the back of his car, New York busy this time of year as traffic flew past on the street and forced Buck slow. He dropped into the driver's seat, sniffling slightly.
"Reminds me," Bucky smirked as he pulled onto the street, "how would you feel about us going to Aspen this winter?"
You sighed, "Why?"
"You wanna stay in New York for Christmas?"
"Well, yeah! It's so magical."
"Okay, so, we can go over New Years?"
You sighed, "You know, we don't have to go anywhere..."
"Sweetheart," he cleared his throat, "I actually have some business in Aspen, this will just help determine when I schedule the meetings for."
"Oh," you nodded slowly.
He sighed, "I know my job isn't orthodox, but business is business, right, sugar?â
"No, yeah, yeah, I get it. It sounds kinda nice, maybe we can go skiing."
"You know how to ski?"
"No, but I'm sure someone in Aspen could help teach me."
Bucky grinned. The drive was full of easy conversation, neither you nor Bucky dwelling on his business dealings, always feeling as if it was taboo given his station in the Mafia. So when he pulled up in front of a designer store, you gawked. "Now, if we can't find something here - "
"Um, absolutely not," you laughed. "Bucky, I can't even afford to walk into a place like that!"
"Good thing I'm paying," he smirked. He assisted you out of the car, tossing his keys to one of his security guards who had been following in a separate, tinted vehicle. When you both entered the dimly lit store, you were blown away by the gorgeous minimalist design; warm lighting, open floor space, and racks of different clothing options.
"Ah, Mr. Barnes! Hello, hello, hello!" A new attendant greeted with more enthusiasm than you would've greeted any of your clients, approaching you two. She shook your boyfriend's hand vigorously, "To what do we owe this pleasure?"
Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, "Looking for a dress to wear to a wedding."
She offered you a forced smile, telling your boyfriend swiftly with her teeth on full display, "You came to the right spot!"
"See?" Bucky smirked at you. "All right, Valeria, what's first?"
Valeria waved you both onward to a private changing room, offering complimentary sparkling waters, coffees, teas - even offering to go retrieve anything you two would want from the Starbucks down the block. Valeria took your measurements and dress size, making idle chit-chat with Bucky and making it obvious he was a regular in the store, then scurrying off to collect an armful of options.
"This is - wow," you nodded in impression, petting the material of the display dresses hung along the wall.
"Like it?"
"It's growing on me," you eased with a small shrug, hearing Bucky chuckle and for his phone to chime. You perused the place as he became glued to the little device, sat in front of the dressing rooms.
Valeria returned with another attendant carrying coffees. "Right this way, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria directed you into a changing room, missing the giddy look you sent Bucky over your shoulder at being called his wife. "All right, so," she sighed, hanging up the dresses she selected, "I think these are modest enough for a wedding, but still glamorous to turn a few heads."
You hummed, "They're kinda short, don't know if that's the energy I want to be giving off at my brother's wedding."
"They'll fit differently once on but we can always accommodate," she assured, pulling one from the hanger. "Here we go," she assisted you, zipping you in and looking you over. "Oh, it's just darling on you! Look at that, not a single hair outta place, right?"
You giggled lightly, "It's certainly pretty."
"Shall we show Mr. Barnes?"
You nodded, following her out to reveal Bucky sitting on a plush loveseat, sipping his coffee. His eyes widened when he saw you, nodding, "Oh, yeah. This is what I'm talking about."
"Hush, we're only buying one."
His eyes rolled, "I'll buy the whole damn store if I want."
"You don't own it already? Hm," you teased, perking your brows.
"Keep sayin' shit, I'll cut a check right now - "
"Bucky," you tisked, moving to the runway mirrors. "It's a little tight, isn't it?"
"It's snug," Valeria agreed. "Is there a color scheme for the wedding?"
"Um," you paused, "I'm not sure - I just know it's in winter, like, in a month."
"Maybe a pretty powder blue?" She looked to Bucky, who nodded. "Or how about a pale green? Like an olive tone?"
"She looks gorgeous in anything," Bucky smirked from behind you, taking another pull of his coffee.
"What about that brown number?" You asked, ignoring the way his compliments made you feel like the only girl he's ever seen in the world.
"You have a very good eye, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria nodded. She asked her coworker to go find your size, taking you back into the dressing room. You narrowed down the options without changing again, not wanting anything black or dark since it was a wedding and not a funeral. Though, you knew Bucky would disagree.
You showed your boyfriend a pretty little green dress, but he shook his head. "I thought the black was nice," he told you.
"I'm not wearing black to a wedding," you laughed lightly. "It screams bad luck to me, don't you think?"
"Think it's more of a statement, sayin' the entire event is a sham and they shouldn't be doing this," Bucky snickered, the other attendant, Laura, returning with a pretty brown dress. "That satin?" He asked, rubbing the material when it was presented to you both.
"It's very fashionable now," Laura nodded, "and it's not too dark."
"Since when is it a rule to not wear dark colors to a wedding? I miss the memo?" Buck leaned back to his seat.
All three women offered him a small look, you chuckling under your breath before Valeria was leading you back into the changing room. "If I may, Mrs?" She spoke softly, "I've known Mr. Barnes for a number of years but he's never brought anyone into the store. Then, one day, he tells me he needs a new suit because the 'girl of his dreams' had agreed to a date, and every time since then?" She smiled softly at you, "He's sang your praises. I'm very honored you're trusting me with helping you today."
"Oh," you blinked in shock, giggling nervously, "well, thank you very much, Valeria, now I know why his suits are always top of the line." She waved you off, making you add, "And for the record, I'm not Mrs. Barnes, guess that'd be his mother, wouldn't it?"
"Oh," her eyes widened, gasping softly, "oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I just - he talks so highly about you - "
"No, it's okay, it's okay," you rushed, patting her arm. "I actually kind of like it..."
She hummed, zipping you into another dress, "You know, he's the reason my girl and I are together."
"Really? How'd that happen?"
Valeria chuckled, "He's very bold, your man. We were getting coffee one day, discussing his wardrobe for a business trip he had in Hong Kong, when my lady walked in. I went all silly and stupid, and Mr. Barnes just," she shook her head with a fond smile, "brazenly asked her out for me, in front of the whole shop."
"Oh, Jesus, yeah - sounds like him."
"Well, luckily, it worked, else I don't think he would've come back for my assistance. I was so embarrassed, you have no idea, but my lady - Charlie - thought it was charming and cute. Mr. Barnes hasn't let me live it down since. Says he demands an invite to the wedding." She met your eyes through the mirror, offering, "And I'd be really happy to give him a plus one, hmm?"
"You're so sweet," you whispered, turning to survey the dress. You spent the better part of three hours there, trying on dress after dress, nitpicking almost everything as you just weren't sure what to wear. Bucky wasn't much help, he just approved everything.
So, it was up to Valeria and Laura to help you; bringing out iPads and design books, trying to piece something together that best fit your comfort and the vibe of the wedding. You didn't want to look like a walking money bag since your family wasn't by any means wealthy, thinking it would be a slap to their faces since your boyfriend could spend his money without ever thinking about it. You didn't want to give your family any reason to talk behind your back.
"I like the brown satin," Laura offered softly, looking you over in the mirror. "But the blue is just wow, it really looks like it was made for you, doesn't it?"
"Yes, but I think the green compliments her eyes more," Valeria cocked her head in thought. "Are you wearing your hair up or down?"
"Up," you answered, trying to mimic the look by pulling your locks off your shoulders, "with thin jewelry, I think."
"Diamonds?"
"Pearls, if I can find a dress that looks nice with it," you smiled, seeing Bucky's reflection in the mirror watching you with a soft smile on his face; head titled in thought before his phone chimed again and warranted his attention. "Maybe we could try the pink dress?" You looked to the two women for an opinion.
"No," Valeria shook her head, "it washes you out. And pink in winter? Oh, sweetie, I'd lose my job if I let you leave here with that. Guess that means you'll have to come back in the spring, right?"
You grinned in response as Laura chimed in, "The green's actually really nice, but the brown looks much better with your body type." Then she turned to Bucky, prompting, "Mr. Barnes? Final decision - which dress?"
Bucky paused, musing, "Lemme see them all again, get one last taste. It's between the green and brown numbers?"
"Or the blue," Valeria nodded. "C'mon, sweetie," she offered her hand to help you off the wee runway you were perched on in front of the magnificent mirrors.
"You look sensational in them all, doll, how the hell am I supposed to choose just one?" Bucky teased, his canines on display from the broad grin that stretched his lips.
"You'll find a way," you answered.
"Awh, telling me Mr. Big-Tough-Manly-Business-Man who makes impossible decisions everyday can't choose a simple piece of fashion?" Valeria tacked on.
"You guys can't pick either!" He laughed, "And you do a helluva lot more shopping than I do!"
Laura, Valeria, and you paused to exchange looks, you pointing at Bucky and relenting in a drawl, "TouchĂŠ."
When you were escorted back into the dressing room, Laura waiting outside the door for your privacy with Valeria, Bucky sat back on the plush loveseat and extended his one arm over the back of the seating. He smirked to himself, shaking his head as if in disbelief - but he was. Bucky was in disbelief.
How did a rugged Mob boss find himself here? Watching his girl like a private fashion show?
His whole life, all he knew was turmoil, pain, drama, and fear. He knew he would inherit his father's well-built organization after he passed and knew what this life would entail; having no preconceived notions about a quiet life. He knew he would have to be tougher than tough, adaptable, intelligent, and confident in his role as the head of the 3-6 Brooklyn Mob. Knowing the idea of a family was farfetched, knowing he'd never know the simple pleasures in life, that he would constantly be on the move - in-able to form real, sentimental, emotional connections. He knew, in this life, he'd remain alone for everyone's best interest and safety, indulging in a series of flings and one-off relationships that couldn't haunt him.
Yet they did. These encounters reminded Bucky how alone, how stranded, how isolated, how different he was. Instead of satisfying an unquenchable thirst, these fleeting partners became heavy anchors to Bucky's reality and reminded him that there was no such thing as love - nor was there any room or logic.
And then... He met you. Bucky's lips silently spread in a grin as he remembered meeting you at a bakery; purchasing the last slice of coconut cream pie to your absolute chagrin. He thought you were gorgeous, something ethereal and unobtainable; authentic, raw, and unfiltered - things his one night stands could never measure up to. So, he offered you the slice of pie if it meant giving him your number as currency.
After that, it was impossible for Bucky to consider ever being alone again because you were the sun; center of the universe that drew everyone into your orbit. He was smitten, content, excited to date you, turned on by the fact you had no idea who he was - a rare occurrence in the city. You were pure as fresh snow; sweet, kind, affectionate, attentive, and borderline overly empathetic.
Bucky knew he was in love with you after only a few weeks when he had shown up at your apartment, dripping in blood. You didn't panic like he feared you would, just checked up and down the hallway before yanking him into your home. You cleaned him up, tending to wounds, offering a safe space for him to relax in; making mindless conversation to help distract him from the pain he endured.
And now? Now, Bucky was sat in Dior, giving his opinion on your wedding guest dress; wondering how he allowed himself to get to this point of being domestic. Bucky wasn't a man to give his opinion on dresses, what color nail polish you should use, to send fresh bouquets of flowers every other week. Yet here he was, sipping too-expensive coffee, deciding between brown, green, and blue dresses that he never would've batted an eye at.
However, that was just the domino effect you caused in his life. You were sweeter than apple pie, becoming Bucky's one tether to reality that saved him from losing himself in this dark, criminal mindset he adopted. You didn't know it, but you had transformed Bucky from a brooding asshole into a boyfriend; someone you were proud to claim and never hid from - never shied away from. He admired the way you came to terms with his job, knowing it was a hard pill to swallow and yet noting the way you just accepted him as he was.
Bucky realized in that moment that he adored this new aspect of life after thinking it was impossible to obtain. He adored sitting here, offering opinions on dresses, his security left outside instead of hovering over him like a brutal reminder he was seedy. He loved having you to come home to, he loved being part of your mundane world - a person who went to weddings, who drank Starbucks, who asked her boyfriend his opinion about how she looked in dresses. Who thought bouquets of flowers were romantic, who baked him homemade cakes for his birthday, who worked overtime in order to afford his Christmas or birthday presents, who walked to the takeout place instead of paying for delivery.
All that you are, Bucky adored deeply; falling in love with you each and every single day. All he wanted to do was protect you, share his life with you, even pick out outfits for weddings you would attend. He knew if any of the men in his organization knew the extent of his affection, they'd surely weaponize it against him... Or at the very least, tease him relentlessly. Yet he never cared, knowing you wanted to be loved out loud instead of hidden away in a storage closet; but did care if it meant his enemies could use you to get to him. It was a risk, an occupation hazard for loved ones to become targets, but that only made Bucky so much more protective of you.
Laura glanced at Bucky and saw the fond smile soften to let his teeth trap his bottom lip, smiling at the Mob boss looking soft, content, smitten being there. She knew most boyfriends would never put this much effort into helping their girlfriends in the fashion department, thinking he must've been truly in love to look so at-ease. Plus his enthusiasm through the entire ordeal assured her that Bucky was genuinely enjoying himself.
Once again, you slipped into the blue dress and showed Bucky. He hummed and snapped a photo, asking you to turn this way and that. Then you tried the green dress, him taking another photo, and finally, you changed into the brown satin dress, facing Bucky for his final verdict.
Bucky hummed in contemplation, swiping through the photos. "You know what?" He asked, looking at you with a grin. "You look delectable in everything, I can't decide - so, let's just get them all."
"Bucky, no - "
"We'll take all three, Valeria, please," Bucky interrupted you.
You waited until the attendants left you alone with a knowing look shot in your direction to ring up the desired purchases, hip cocking and hands to your hips. With an underlying exasperation, you questioned, "What the hell, Buck?"
He grinned and stood, again, buttoning his suit jacket, "C'mon, princess, this is fun, right? Being spoiled?." His arms wrapped around your waist, looking down at you as if you hung the very sun that sucked him into your orbit. "What's the point of all my money if I can't spend it on you? Huh?"
"You can save it for a rainy day?"
He shrugged, "Not necessary."
"Maybe pay to send some underprivileged kids to go to college?"
"Well, there's a thought," your boyfriend mused, "but I already do that through the Stark Foundation. I sponsor a few scholarships."
"Okay, well, buying all three still doesn't help me decide what to wear," you chuckled, you mimicked his action and wrapped your arms tightly around the base of his ribs. Due to his height, your head had to tip backwards to meet his eyes with a small smile.
You could look at this gorgeous man all day, everyday if God ever permitted such an act. Why wasn't dating a paid activity? You'd be the top earner with the way you were absolutely enthralled with all Bucky Barnes was. And what an honor it was to earn his mutual adoration.
"We'll figure it out at home. Gotta get you moving in the material to make an honest judgement," he offered softly. "But you look gorgeous in all of them, baby, seriously. Like, drop dead gorgeous that makes every girl brim with jealousy. Shit, doll, you're gonna run the risk of outshining the bride."
You sighed, "Look, Buck, I appreciate what you're doing, but three designer dresses? Where the hell am I ever gonna wear them? What kinda event calls for overpriced fashion statements?"
Buck eased with a soft expression, "Guess I'll just have to take you out so you can put them all to good use, huh?"
"That's not a solution!"
"Is to me," he let a hand drift to roughly palm the meat of your ass cheek over the brown satin; another symptom of him being whipped, his comfort over public displays of affection. "Seriously, doll, how the hell did I get so lucky?"
"Hmm?"
"Just look at you, my girl," he chuckled lightly, "radiant in anything you put on. It's almost unfair, makes me wonder what I did so right to have someone like you I can call my own. I can't wait to show you off in those dresses, just look so Goddamn tantalizing. I mean, damn, baby, I'm gonna have to fight off men with my gun and the jealous women with a stick."
"You do realize we're already dating, you don't have to lay it on so thick."
"And you do realize being with you makes me the luckiest bastard in the city, right? Least I can do is spoil you, I've already got everything else I've ever wanted."
Your heart swelled at his words, sighing gently as your chin rested on his chest to keep your head tilted. Softly, you admitted, "I don't think you're the lucky one, pretty sure the honor's mine. I couldn't ask for anything more in a man - in a partner. I'm so fucking in love with you, Bucky, it honestly doesn't make sense."
He nodded, asking, "Know what else doesn't make sense?"
"What's that?"
"You refusing those dresses, I mean, c'mon!" He laughed, you groaning and releasing your hold; making his tighten to prevent you from escaping. "Those dresses look phenomenal on you, you really gonna reject my gift? C'mon, you know the rules, doll, if you adore her, you Dior her." You were ready to retort, but Bucky smiled, "For the record, I think you should wear the blue dress to the wedding."
"Blue it is," you smiled, lifting onto your toes and hooking a hand around the back of his neck to meet his lips in a scratchy kiss. "Thank you so much, baby," you whispered, feeling his lips spread against yours before he brought you back in for a much-more passionate kiss. "Hm!" You hummed, pulling away to scold, "But no more, all right? You spend too much money on me - I mean, who the hell needs three designer dresses?"
"You do," he whispered, "you deserve all of this, sugar, and I'll do what I can t'spoil you the way you should be. Might as well get used to it, I got no plans on stopping."
Your eyes rolled in good faith, excusing yourself, "Yeah, yeah, all right. Lemme get changed and we can - "
"Nah," he shook his head, petting the skin of your back exposed from the brown satin dress with his fingertips, "know what? Stay in the dress, I wanna take you out and show you off."
Your lips found his in a breath-sucking kiss, trying to convey your appreciation and giddiness over never having been spoiled like this in your entire life - feeling grateful, refreshed, and privileged for a man like Bucky in your life. Whatever greater force there was in this world, you thanked repeatedly for choosing you to love this man and for this man to love you. There was no telling what you did to deserve him, but blessed be those heavenly powers.
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#bucky barnes#mob!bucky#mob!bucky barnes#mafia!bucky#mafia!bucky barnes#mob bucky#mob bucky barnes#mafia bucky#mafia bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x fem reader#mafia bucky barnes x reader#mafia bucky barnes x female!reader#mafia bucky barnes x f!reader#mafia bucky barnes x fem!reader#mafia au#bucky mafia au#mafia bucky au#mafia bucky x female!reader#mafia bucky x reader#mafia bucky x you#mafia bucky x y/n#mob bucky au#mob bucky x reader#mob bucky x you#mob bucky x y/n
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Nello! I have a request/suggestion for a Bucky drabble-y something if you'd like it. Maybe he's on a mission or there's an attack and it's going *very* poorly for him but he gets saved by a sweet civilian who's probably hopped up on a LOT of adrenaline
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A/N Thank you so much for this request, anon! Bucky isnât on a mission, per se, more like he ends up making a certain situation his âmission.âÂ
Pairing Bucky Barnes x ReaderÂ
Summary After an unexpected and intense fight, youâre the kind stranger who comes to Buckyâs aid. Except, you canât shake the pressing feeling that youâve seen each other once before. [fluff, angst, firing of a weapon, 2.6k]
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Darkness hangs over Hellâs Kitchen as the heavy beat of Buckyâs heart drums on. The high-pitched ringing in his ears nearly drowns out the trudge of his boots against the sidewalk. Each labored step sends another wave of pain radiating through his ribcage. By now, heâs far enough away from Nicoloâs Bistro to be seen, where police and ambulances are finally pulling up with glaring halos of red and blue, sirens wailing.Â
As Bucky turns into a dingy alleyway, he finally allows himself to release the pathetic grunts that have been attempting to claw out of throat since the moment he left the establishment. The pungent smell of garbage rides on the breeze as he presses his back up against the cool brick wall, sliding down until he hits the pebbled ground.Â
He canât remember the last time being off his feet felt so good. Thatâs all heâd wanted upon entering the bistro earlier. To sit down and have a meal before venturing back to Brooklyn.Â
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The table heâs given along the front windows gives sight to the evening bustle outside. Thereâs a dim ambience to that place thatâs homey and charming. Basil and garlic linger in the air. A waitress with a long jet-black ponytail takes his order of carbonara and the house red. Just as she leaves, three men in fedoras enter, with hard eyes and strong noses.Â
A wary feeling flutters in his gut.Â
Rather than being seated in the main dining room, theyâre escorted into the back by a worker. Nicolo, the broad-shouldered owner of the restaurant, is no sooner notified of their arrival. The look of dread that washes over his face is Buckyâs second clue that something is amiss. But thereâs an eerie calm that follows.
Halfway into his meal, hushed, angry voices finally emit from the back room. The only reason Bucky can hear them is the serumâs heightening of his senses:Â
Nicoloâs voice registers first, âSobrini, please, thereâs been a misunderstanding.â
âNo, itâs well past time,â comes a gruff, thickly accented voice. âI invested in this shithole and havenât seen anywhere near what Iâm owed.âÂ
âItâs comingâplease, there has to be a better way,â Nicolo reasons. âThere are customers out there.â
âToo bad I donât give a fuck.âÂ
Thatâs when a lone warning shot rings out.Â
A few patrons jolt in shock, heads whipping around. You startle as you take a sip from your bubbling glass of champagne, sending the liquid running down your chin.
Bucky's on his feet in an instant, âEverybody out!âÂ
The moment you slip out of your booth, the confrontation spills out into the main dining area as Nicolo backs out of the room with his hands held up in surrender. All three men are stalking towards him, and the bulkier oneâundeniably Sobriniâhas a revolver drawn.Â
âNow they all get to see your brains being blown out,â he quips.
 Bucky wastes no time rushing to the owner's defense, sprinting over to Sobrini, and using his vibranium hand to block a bullet when he pulls the trigger. Nicolo's face flushes with relief as he gratefully runs for the door, steering other frantic patrons out along the way.Â
With Nicolo gone, the group of mobsters redirect their anger to Bucky and his daring boldness.Â
âAnd who the hell are you?â Before Sobrini can pull the trigger again, Bucky disarms him with a few swift swipes and blows, bending the gun out of shape before letting it clink to the ground.Â
âMikey, Vinny!â Sobrini growls.Â
Like two mad dogs given attack orders, the other men launch forward to gang up on Bucky. Theyâre stronger than heâs expectingâtoo strong. Super soldiers. Glasses and plates crash from the tables as Vinny, the taller of the two, kicks Bucky square in the stomach, sending him staggering backwards. Heâs quick to recover, promptly delivering his own series of strikes in retaliation.Â
Heart hammering in your ears, you help usher the last of the patrons and employees outside. When you dare to look back in, Mikey has managed to get Bucky in a chokehold from behind. Only then do you notice the glint of his vibranium hand as he pries at the manâs thick forearm.
As Bucky coughs for air, realization dawns on you like a rushing tide. For a flicker of a second, he catches your eyes in the doorway before managing to free himself from the hold.
A second wind finds him as the brawl becomes a fierce three-on-one ordeal.
Nicolo pulls you away from the door for your own safety.
Itâd been two years since Buckyâs last fight, and he hated that this made a part of him feel alive again.Â
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Just as his eyes begin to flutter closed with exertion, he hears a soft, urgent voice that he thinks heâs imagining. It prompts him to remember that heâs seated in a dirty alleyway, propped against a wall.Â
âAre you alright?â Your eyes dart over his bruised face, split lip, and bloodied knuckles. âDonât close your eyes, stay with me.â You gently pat your hand against his stubbled cheek. Some of his long, dark hair is matted to the sweat on his face.
The only reason you knew where to find him is because youâd watched him stagger from the scene after neutralizing the three intruders in a feat of athleticism if you ever saw one. Your own hands are still buzzing with adrenaline.Â
He manages to meet your gaze, but his bloodshot blue eyes never focus. You can see that heâs trying, which only makes concern swell in your chest all the more.Â
âYou need to go to the ER,â you say, brows furrowing. That seems to shake him a bit.Â
âNoâŚâ he trails off, then coughs, wincing. âNo doctors. Please.âÂ
You pull your lower lip in between your teeth as if debating to heed his request. Looking out to the street, you see that nobody has taken notice of the two of you.
You then say, âCan you walk? My place isnât far.â
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Climbing the stairs is the hardest part. Despite your offer to lean his weight on you, Bucky stubbornly relies on the railing for all four floors. By the time you unlock your apartment door and usher him inside, he realizes heâs made a mistake. He shouldâve insisted heâd be fine, that after the initial shock wore off, his body would begin to mend itself back to wholeness.
Except, he canât remember the last time someone had spoken to him so sweetly.Â
As selfish as it was, it felt good to be on the receiving end of genuine concern. Nowadays, people just assumed he was okay because he was the Winter Soldier, and thatâs what the Winter Soldier was supposed to doâdust himself off and get back up. Yet here you were acting like he was someone worth being taken care of.
He all but collapses onto the couch once you lead him over to it. In the back of his mind, he worries about getting it dirty, but you donât seem to care as you flutter out of the living room.
The air smells faintly of cinnamon and vanilla, and small decorative pumpkins sit on the windowsill. Pain pulses in his neck as he takes a better look around, but he does it anyway. The entire space is modest and cozy, clearly lived-in and well-loved.Â
By the time you come back, heâs dozed off, thick thighs spread and chin tucked down to his chest. This happens sometimesâhis body crashes into sleep to facilitate healing. It only occurs when he feels safe. Otherwise, the rush of adrenaline keeps him wide awake.Â
He can just barely register the gentleness of your movements as you tilt his head up to dab away the blood with a cool towel. You continue on like that, cleaning up the wounds that broke the skin, which thankfully arenât too plentiful. Occasionally, his eyes flutter open, but you never ask him any questions or force him to talk. A comfortable silence settles between you until all the dried blood is gone. Â
An hour later, he wakes up, finding that heâs stretched along the entirety of the couch with a blanket draped over his frame. His pain has subsided immensely. As he sits upright, he notices that youâre curled up in the accent chair. A special news report drones low on the TV.
âAll the men have been taken into custody,â you tell him. Bucky eyes flitter over your face as you speak, realizing that his mind is finally clear enough to welcome the whispers of recognition.Â
Heâd seen many people over the course of his long life, and your face was among those heâd never be able to forget.Â
You continue as his heart rises into his throat, âThey donât know it was you who saved everyone,â you say, toying with the hem of your sweater. âIf they do, they havenât said your name.âÂ
The air goes dead silent for a fleeting moment.
âYou know my name?â Itâs a question he already knows the answer to.Â
You study his face, handsome even with the bruises. âJames Buchanan Barnes, the Asset, the Winter SoldierâŚâÂ
He swallows thickly, abruptly standing to his feet as guilt and shame churn in his stomach. âThank you for your help, butââÂ
âPlease donât go,â you insist. It feels like youâre staring straight through him. Â
âI have to. Iâm sorry.â He weaves towards the door, heat rising to his cheeks.Â
The events of an afternoon from many moons ago come rushing into the forefront of his mind. First, a group of suited men barking orders as he listened with emotionless eyes. Then the glint of his metal arm wrapped around the neck of a S.H.I.E.L.D. contractor on Park Avenue. As the man strangled out pleas, your cries joined in, begging for the life of your friend to be sparedâ
Bucky thinks back to earlier when he was being choked, the sense of helplessness.
You stand from the chair but donât follow after him. âDid you want to take a shower at least?â you offer, hope infused into your words. It only made sense considering the sweat and grime still lingering on his skin.Â
The thought of a shower sounds too good. But not here, not now. He never shouldâve come.Â
âAs the contractor had gripped at his Buckyâs arm for mercy, he remembered glaring over at you. The mask concealing the lower half of his face hid his snarl, but his glare could cut stone. Except, you werenât made of stone. You were skin, and bone, and desperation. It ended up being your fear-ridden eyes that did all the cutting.
It was as if you were wordlessly pleading, please, you donât have to do this. Like you could see that he was trapped inside the prison of his own being.Â
But by the time his hold went slack around the manâs neck, it was already too late. His body slumped lifelessly to the ground.Â
âI forgive you," you call out right as Bucky steps into the hallway and is seconds away from closing the door.
That stops him in his tracks and sends a chill through his bones.
âPlease donât go,â you say, much softer.Â
â˘â˘â˘
Tucked away in an old journal, was a list of amends Bucky was supposed to make. Heâd managed to cross off all those names. But thereâs no way heâd ever be able to account for every life he changed, every friend and family member he snatched away from people he would never even come to know.
This reality weighs heavy on him as he stands in the steamy bathroom, a towel wrapped low around his hips. Sometimes he didnât recognize himself when he looked in the mirror. Faint knocking sounds at the door.
He clears the thickness from his throat, âYes?â
âSpecial delivery,â you say lightly. âMy neighbor had some clothes to spare.â
When he opens the door, your eyes flick to his torso, the bruising along his ribcage. Thereâs a dusting of hair on his chest, and a line of it that leads down from his bellybutton. It takes a second for you to register that he isnât wearing his vibranium arm. Maybe it's because of the steady, broad way heâs standing there as if the limb isnât gone at all.
He accepts the clothes, âThank you.â
Bucky doesnât close the door as he turns to set them on the sink. In the process, you notice there are old scars on his back with dark new bruises mixed amongst them. Before you can stop yourself, you step forward, brushing over his shoulder blades with tentative fingers. He straightens, briefly closing his eyes at the tenderness.Â
âSorry. Iâm sorry.â You begin to back out of the room. âI have painkillers if theyâd help.â
Bucky shakes his head. âIâm alright.â
âIâll let you get dressed then.â
Moments later, Bucky finds you in your room seated on the side of your bed. Your startle, swiping at the tears beneath your eyes before turning to look at him. When he sees that youâve been crying, he feels like the worst person in the world again, an awful feeling resettling in his gut.Â
âI can go,â he says.Â
You shake your head and pat the space beside you.Â
Bucky lingers in the doorway until giving in. The mattress dips as he sits, making sure to leave ample space between you. Even then you can feel the warmth of his proximity, smell your body wash on his skin. Neither of you say anything for a while.Â
âWhy are you doing all this?â For such an imposing man, his voice comes out small.Â
âBecause I see you.â Bucky swallows at your words, gaze remaining on the floor. âI saw you eight years ago, and I see you now.âÂ
He realizes then, that if he truly wanted to, he wouldâve left already. He didnât know what he wanted, what more he was expecting. Heâd already taken enoughâyour friend, your resources, your time.Â
âYou know what I believe?â Bucky waits for you to continue. âThat youâre a good person,â you say solemnly.Â
âYou didnât even hesitate back at Nicoloâs. You stepped right up.â
âIt was nothing,â he lightly dismisses.
âNothing?âÂ
Bucky looks over at you, and you raise your brows. âIt was the right thing to do,â he finally says.Â
âAnd you easily couldâve just walked away.âÂ
He gets your point then. The plates of his arm whir softly.Â
âI was angry at you for a long time,â you admit. âEven though I knew who you were, the control you were under.â
âIâm sorryââ
âAnd the more time that passed, the more I realized my anger wasnât entirely fair,â you say. âLifeâs not fair. But staying rooted to the same spot doesnât do anyone any good.âÂ
Bucky doesnât pull away when you reach over and take his hand in yours, gently running your fingers over his bruised knuckles in a mix of sympathy and wonder. He watches as you flip his palm face-up, tracing the lines with a delicate touch. He feels it all the way up his arm, the gesture painfully intimate. Having seen each other at your lowest, most vulnerable moments has a way of knocking down walls.Â
âAsk me why Iâm doing all this again,â you say.
Bucky meets your gaze. âWhy?â
âBecause itâs the right thing to do.â
Outside, distant sirens wail into the Manhattan night.
-
Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think.Â
MOREÂ
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky fic#bucky fluff#bucky angst#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x fem reader#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x female yn#sebastian stan
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I don't think this'll do well for the COD lovers who like my first two posts, but I LOVEEE Bucky, so..
!! NSFW BELOW THE CUT !!
Bucky Barnes, who always wakes up needy no matter what :(
(Established relationship + reader has already consented to being unconscious during such.. filthy activities)
â˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘
He tries not to wake you, knowing you need your sleep, but the way his face is buried between your thighs, suckling on your clit, tongue lapping at your folds, your bound to wake up by the second orgasm he pulls from you.
As soon as he notices your wake, your eyes fluttering open to look down at him, locking with his, his hands find yours, gently holding them at your sides as he continued devouring your cunt, the soft moans spilling past your lips as pleasure overwhelms your senses the only melody he wants to hear for the rest of his life.
And the way your body shakes as you ride out your release on his face? He could look at that sight forever.
And that was just warm up :)
â˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘âĄâ˘
Might delete this and go back to just writing COD smut if this gets less than 30 likes by the end of the week, but please lemme know what y'all want đ
I don't really like this one anyways
Edit: Y'ALL SMASHED THAT 30 AND WENT TO 200 IN LESS THAN 2 DAYS?! OH MY GOD?? TYSM âĄâĄ
#x reader#x fem reader#bucky barnes x fem reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#smut#frvity.leaf writes#gonna go cry 'cause he's not real#wait no shifting exists
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Personal Assistant-Part 1
Paring: Millionaire Reality Star!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
This will be broken up into parts!
Part 1 | Part 2
You and bucky had been best friends since you could remember. After college you had lost contact until you started looking for a job. You wanted to get into acting so it wasnât a surprise that you took a job offer from your new friend. The day of auditions you got the address from the friend. You werenât prepared of the role you were applying for, so you dressed nice. You took an uber to the audition, you arrive at a mansion. You immediately are more nervous than before. You walk up to the door and knock gently. A man dressed in a suit answers the door. He asks if you are here for the audition. You nod, he smiles and takes you into the living room. He offers to get you a drink and you politely decline. A few minutes go by, and you get brought into a studio. You walk to the other side of the glass; you notice a ring that looked oddly familiar. The tell you that the role you are auditioning for is a personal assistant in a reality show. As you start to read the script you are interrupted by a familiar voice. As he walks into the room you make eye contact. James Barnes but this time he wasnât a kid anymore. This time he was taller, stronger, and more handsome than you remember. He was wearing an expensive black suit with the sleeves cuffed up just enough to see a few veins in his arm. You swallowed hard at the sight of him, you could feel old feelings resurfacing. He doesnât say anything to you, he just starts looking around. You realize heâs looking for the ring on the table of your side. You grab it and walk around the glass and ask him if itâs what he was looking for. His expression starts to soften but not before he realizes where his is. He coughs and takes it, âThank you Ms-?â he looks at you waiting for a response. âF/Nâ you say looking at the ground. He sits on the couch spreading his legs. âWell, since I interrupted, I might as well watch your audition. Saves us time, Iâm the one who calls the shots. If I donât like it, you donât get a call backâ He grabs a notepad and pen, you walk back to the other side of the glass and read the scripts. At the end you see Bucky hand the producer the notepad. Buck starts to walk out, as he leaves you swear, he throws you a wink. âY/n?â The producer says calling you into reality. âJames wrote that he wanted you hired nowâ. You thank them. They say that you will be moving in until production ends. Explaining filming is in a week, they want the main cast to adjust. You nod and they escort you to a car. You arrive at your home and collect your things. You head back and they show you to your room. You gasp at the roomâs size. After unpacking you decide to explore. As you walk out on your phone you bump into someone causing you to drop it. You quickly look up to see who it was. Bucky looks down at you with a smirk and pins you against the wall, before saying âWhoâs so important you to not be paying attention?â You try to answer but the words seem not come out. He grabs your chin, âAre you planning on answering your new bossâs question doll or do you need a lesson of professionalism and manners?â Your face is beyond pink from blushing its practically red. âBoss? What does that mean? I was just having an argument and it got heated thatâs allâ you try to turn your head, but he holds it still. âYou didnât know that Iâm the person you will be assisting in this show? Was it Steve?â he says the last part with a concern in his voice. âHow did you remember? You didnât even remember my name.â You say rolling your eyes. He smirks âHow could I ever forget you doll? I just have a reputation to worry about now. I didnât want it to seem like I gave you this position because youâre the cute girl I used to hang out withâ As he says the last few words it feels like he breathed them into your ear sending a shiver down your spine. Before he releases you, he says âDonât think I didnât know about your crush doll.â He cockily grins at you then walks away leaving you lost for words. You hear him hum to himself âThisâll be funâ.
#0rosexmulti0#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes x reader#mcu#marvel#bucky barnes x fem reader#bucky x f!reader#bucky fanfic#millionaire bucky x f! reader#james bucky barnes x y/n#james bucky barnes x reader#buckybarnes
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Stolen
Mafia Bucky Au
Pairing - mafia!bucky x fem!reader
Summary - y/n lived an ordinary life as a surgical resident in New York. Her father left when she was young, and her mother recently passed away. Bucky was promised by her father to get his firstborn daughter, unfortunately for y/n, that fits her description perfectly. Kind of enemies to lovers.
Warnings - violence, angst, being taken against will/kidnapping, mentions of death, stitches and medical things, mentions of suicide, mild cursing
Word count - 3.5k
a/n - i was feeling some angst, let me know what you think! feedback is always appreciated!
masterlist bucky masterlist
"Clamp" Joe said from across to table to one of the scrub nurses. "Lap pads" I said. We were doing a coronary artery bypass graft on a six year old patient. Five hours in and Lena was doing really well. She had maintained stability the entire time, making recovery look good for her.
I was about to irrigate when the door to the OR burst open. Me and Joe didn't look up, too focused on finishing Lena's cabg, starting to close up her heart with delicate sutures. "Y/n Y/L/N?" a low masculine voice boomed out. My head shot up to meet Joe's eyes, silently asking what to do. Her eyes were almost as wide as mine.
That voice belonged to James Barnes, head of the Brooklyn mafia. They had access to anywhere and everywhere in Brooklyn, no questions asked.
After having a silent conversation, we both opted to go back to Lena's heart. The voice boomed again, this time louder and much closer. "Y/n, scrub out." Joe whispered. I couldn't scrub out. Not now. Not while it was just me and Joe with a few scrub nurses. She couldn't close alone. "No." I kept suturing, almost to the point where we could start to close up entirely. "What?!" her head jerked up "I said no. You can't close on your own. Lena has been my patient for six months. I know everything about her, and her family. I am finishing this surgery with you and I will be there when they see their baby girl for the first time in six hours." I clipped the last suture, ready to close up her chest. "Y/n, I think you should listen to Joe and scrub out."
I suddenly felt cold metal pressed to my temple. "Put the tools down Y/L/N. I'm not afraid to pull this trigger." I heard the click of a bullet sliding into place at the end of his threat. I was shaking with tears running down my cheeks at this point. "I'm sorry," I said to Joe, it was obvious that I was crying. Through blurry eyes, I saw a tear slide down her cheek too.
What was going to happen to Lena? And her family? What would Joe tell them? I stepped back from the table and let Mike, my favourite nurse, help me take off my gown and relieve my trembling hands from my sterile blue gloves.
Even if I wanted to, I couldn't go back to that table. By pressing a gun to my head, James had broken the sterile field. "Well done," James spoke lowly into my ear. I hadn't noticed when, but his hand was wrapped securely around my arm. He led me away from the table, out of the OR and into the hallway where he stood in front of the elevator. The entire time my sobs never ceased and neither did the grip he had on my arm.
He let go before we left the elevator. Outside, many of what were probably his men waited for us. They lined the hallways. I felt like a sheep being herded by big, powerful, scary wolves. Tears were still running down my face as I made eye contact with my Chief of Surgery and Resident Chief. I had grown close with them over the years, and now they were watching me be escorted out of the hospital.
They knew what this meant. I was taken. The mafia had me now. Tears ran down their faces, and the faces of my coworkers who I loved like family. I tried to keep my head up to let them know I would be okay, but I couldn't help the way my shoulder shook from my sobs.
James helped me into a black car. In the front seat was a blonde, with a driver who had dark skin and short hair. I didn't try to hide the fact that I wanted to be anywhere but here. I felt exhausted, more emotionally than mentally.
"Where are we going?" I asked. "Home." James said, adjusting the cuff of his dress shirt. "I hate you, James Barnes." I said, defeat laced in my tone. "Please, call me Bucky." he said. He sounded sad. That bastard. How did he have the nerve to be sad when he is the one who chose to steal me out of my OR. "What are you going to do when I kill myself?" I asked. "You won't kill yourself." the driver spoke up. "Sam-" the blonde said in a nervous and warning tone.
"She won't." he said, looking at the blonde. "You're y/n y/l/n. You're a surgeon." he said, looking at me through the rearview mirror. Everyone's attention was on him as he refocused on the road. "You saved my sister's life, Sarah Wilson. Pancreatic cancer. Four hours after being in your OR she was cancer free. We were told to start planning her funeral. I was signing paperwork to legally adopt my nephews, but you saved her life." he looked into the rearview mirror at me again. "Thank you."
We arrived at "home". During the long ride to the outskirts of Brooklyn, I learned that the blonde's name is Steve. He and Sam were Bucky's seconds in command. Steve helped with the dirty stuff like interrogations, and dealing with orders and shipments of weapons. Sam helped as well but he was also really good at chauffeuring Bucky wherever he needed to go.
There was a very very long gravel driveway leading up to Bucky's huge mansion. It was pretty, I had to admit. Nice dark brick with ivy, a beautiful garden that I bet Steve helped out with, and a peaceful fountain in the center of the drive. I noticed more fountains in the garden area. We had passed tall black iron gates on the way in, giving me an eerie feeling of what the interior of the mansion would be like. Probably dark and scary.
Boy, was I wrong. The inside was beautiful. White marble stairs, golden curtains and natural light everywhere. It felt soft and safe, while still looking professional and wealthy. I was scared to touch anything, it all looked so clean and like everything was in its place.
Bucky dismissed Sam and Steve, leading me up the stairs and to the right of the hall. We walked for quite a bit before he turned into a room. "This is yours. You are to sleep here and I will have all of your stuff here in the next two weeks." He turned to face me, "My office is down the hall to the left, first hall to your right. My room is down the hall to the right, first room on your left hand side. If you need anything, ask me, Sam or Steve. Nobody else lives here but the four of us." he sounded so calm and collected. Did he steal people often?
"I don't live here." I corrected him. The quirk in his eyebrow let me know I shouldn't have spoken. I didn't care. It couldn't get any worse than this. "You do live here. You will not leave this property until you ask me for permission and you have been assigned an escort." "I do not live here! You do not own me, and I am going home. I have to go to work, and I will not stay here." I clenched my jaw, waiting for him to say something.
"Y/n, you live here. Your father promised me his first born daughter just before your mother got pregnant. He was a horrible man, you knew that. Your mother never knew about the deal. You are mine and you will not be leaving. Are we clear?" I hated how the tone of his voice made me clench my thighs together, but I hated even more how he was speaking to me and how he thought he could just keep me here.
"No! I will not stay here! You stole me out of my OR while I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF A SURGERY! An open heart surgery. A poor young girl's life was in my hands, Bucky!!!! You could have killed her!! She was INNOCENT!! I hate you. She could have died. Her parents have been in and out of hospitals with her for six years!! Six years, Bucky! She is six years old and her whole life has been within the walls of hospitals and I had a chance to change that. You could have ruined her life and I hate you." I was so angry, tears were running down my face again. I felt warm and exhausted. The urge to just sleep and hope this was a really really bad dream came over me. "Get out." I spat through my teeth, daring him to challenge my order.
He almost looked pitiful as he left my room and closed the door behind him.
The bed was uncomfortable, and I had none of my own possessions. Bucky had come in later to apologize, which fell on deaf ears. He had thankfully given me one of his shirts and some sweatpants before he went back to his office. The sheets on the bed were scratchy, and his pants were too warm.
At around 2 a.m, after no luck at sleeping, I slipped out of my room and headed towards his office, just like he had directed. I figured he would be there, being a surgeon I know what it's like to stay up late to get work done, especially if you're stressed. Which I assume he was after kidnapping someone.
I opened the door slowly to reveal Bucky. His jacket was discarded and a few of the buttons on his shirt were undone. "What are you doing here?" He asked after looking up at me. I felt his gaze rake over my body, now only clad in his shirt and a pair of my underwear. "I need your help," I said calmly. I was desperate after only a few hours with this man. I felt pathetic.
Bucky's eyebrow quirked, encouraging me to continue. "My dog, Joe is probably watching her. I wouldn't know because you took my phone, but that's what I'm assuming." he looked intrigued, with his head tilted to the side and his hands still instead of typing. "If Joe isn't watching her, she only has enough food and water for one day, unless she drinks out of the toilet bowl, but I don't really want her to do that, not that it isn't clean! But she's a big dog and-" "y/n." His cold voice stopped me right in my tracks. Shit. This is probably where he refuses to help me get my dog.
"Please," my eyes began to water at the thought of her at home, all alone, wondering where I went, and then possibly starving to death without anyone to take care of her. "She's my best friend, and I promise she won't be any trouble, I'll pay for everything, I'll even pay a rent fee or something! I just really need my dog back." I think he could see my lip wobble because that look of pity from earlier came back.
"I used to have a dog," his voice surprised me just as much as his words. I looked up at him inquisitively, "She was a Great Dane named Nala. I get it. I'll arrange to pick her up tomorrow, and some of your things later in the week." "Thank you." I whispered before turning to leave his office.
"What's her name?" I heard just before I reached the door. "Hazel," I smiled at the memory of her. "She's an Irish wolf hound." I said sheepishly. at my confession, he smiled. "Goodnight y/n." "Goodnight Bucky."
It's been a week since we got Hazel, and Bucky has seemed kinder and kinder every day. It was probably just because Hazel was such a good dog, but a part of me hoped I helped to make him happier too. When I brought it up to Steve and Sam they had both agreed it wasn't just my dog.
Another night rolled around and I still didn't have anything else of my own. I had been sharing clothes with all three of the men, including underwear. The night was the worst time for me, always leaving me frustrated at my inability to get comfortable enough to sleep. Hazel had no problems, sleeping soundly at the foot of my bed just like she would at home. Or my old house? Was this place really my home?
At 1 a.m, when I hadn't heard any movement in a while I snuck out to Bucky's bedroom where I knew he wouldn't be. He was still in his office working, I knew because I hadn't heard him walk to his room, something he doesn't usually do until at least 3 a.m. Hazel had decided to follow me, making this a bit harder to get away with when being followed by a huge Irish wolfhound.
Slowly, I opened the door to his bedroom. It was gorgeous. He had an abundance of pillows, a soft blanket at the end of his bed and thick creamy coloured duvet. Dark wood furniture decorated the room, complemented by dark curtains and hunter green walls. The place was gorgeous and very well decorated. I moved closer to his bed and found an extra soft blanket under the duvet. I slid it out and draped it over Hazel's back so my hands could hold other stuff. I grabbed a body length grey pillow, deciding he wouldn't miss it for one night.
Before he came to his room, we scurried back to my bed as quietly as possible, Hazel not dropping the blanket once.
"That's the best she's slept in weeks, boss." I could hear voices outside of my bedroom. Steve. The curtains were closed, so it was still nice and dark in my room, then another voice spoke, "Really? She hasn't been sleeping well this whole time?". Bucky. "No, she tosses and turns all night. Honestly, I would too if I didn't have anything of my own.". Sam. "She likes your pillow though." Steve commented.
I didn't want to get up yet but I didn't want to be watched either. I slowly opened my eyes and lifted my head to see the three men in my doorway. Steve and Sam smiled before walking away with waves directed at me. I waved back before focusing my gaze on Bucky.
"I see you like my stuff." he smirked, slowly making his way towards my bed. Hazel jumped off to go find food, her bowls had been placed in the kitchen. "You know, it's wrong to steal sweetheart." Bucky was looking down at me now, his hands in the pockets of his neat dress pants. "You left me with no other choice," I said without much confidence.
"I don't have any of my things, and these sheets are god awful and scratchy." "Maybe I just like seeing you in my clothes," he hummed. A warm blush coated my cheeks as he leaned closer. "You're kinda cute sweetheart." At this point I could smell his minty breath, and feel it as well. "Give me my stuff, and you'll get yours back." I suggested before flopping down on my bed and pulling the covers over me, specifically the blanket I stole right off of his own bed.
He laughed before tugging at the blanket to reveal me clinging to his body sized pillow like a koala. I refused to meet his gaze, instead keeping my eyes closed. "I can't sleep unless I'm comfortable." I stated.
"I get that. We'll have Steve pick your stuff up, but you can keep the pillow." he winked.
That afternoon, Bucky had sat down and had lunch with me. He made eggs, bacon and fluffy toast. I helped a little, making us tea and setting the plates at the black marble island.
"So, I was thinking, you can start working remotely until they absolutely need you back at the hospital." his eyes met mine, waiting for a reaction. I was excited, but I tried not to show it too much since I really shouldn't have been taken from the hospital in the first place. "Then, once I'm sure it's safe, you can go back."
"Safe?" How did my safety play into this decision? I was confused, I was always safe at the hospital, save for the occasional confused patient. "Y/n, your father had a lot of enemies, quite a few of them are associated with other mafias, none as well built or known as my own. He promised you to me in hopes that peace could be made, but he betrayed several of his promises and upset more people than he could handle. Because they can't get to your father, they might get to you next."
"Fine. But I need to get to the hospital sooner rather than later. I have a million patients and I've missed so many rounds. For all I know, Lena could be out of the hospital by now. I haven't had contact with anyone for weeks." I sighed, to which he frowned at. "I know, and I do feel bad but I also care about your safety."
I blushed at his admittance, not used to being romantically cared for. Over the days that turned into weeks, we had grown to like each other. Maybe this arrangement would end up working after all.
"Fuck."
Bucky had given me a space to work within his office, so that's where I was when I heard a string of curses and muffled groans near midnight. The door suddenly swung open, revealing a bloody and battered Bucky.
"James?" I asked. "Hey -shit- y/n/n." He clutched his right arm to his abdomen. There was so much blood from so many different places. "It looks like you need my help," I sassed, getting up to help him settle down on the leather couch. His "yeah" was cut off by a groan. "I need to take your shirt off, okay?" Concern was surely painted on my face as I saw his blood soaked jacket.
"At least buy me dinner first," he laughed. "Ha ha. I'm glad you're in a decent mood," I said while starting to unbutton his white work shirt. I rolled up the sleeves of his black Henley that I was borrowing. He had three major wounds: one on his cheek, one on his right arm and one located on his lower abdomen.
"This is going to hurt," I warned, getting the first aid kit from across the room and preparing the peroxide. He hissed as I poured it over every wound, dabbing them after with gauze. "You're doing great," I tried to smile sympathetically while remaining focused.
"I'm going to stitch your face first, okay?" I asked, getting the supplies ready. "I don't need stitches." he countered. "Bucky, this wound is deep and it's not going to stop bleeding until I close it. You need stitches." "Doll, I'm fine, just leave it."
"Right! Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I forgot that you had a medical degree." I said sarcastically. He blushed in return and stayed still while I started to stitch his cheek.
A part of me wanted to make a jab about being out of practice, due to being kidnapped from the hospital, but I held back. Bucky was a good man and we were starting to bond and get along way better than I had ever anticipated. I learned that he had a sister, Steve had been his best friend since highschool, and he had inherited the mafia from his father.
James was a man who loved dogs, and making sure the ones he loved were safe, from his best friend all the way down to Anne, the maid and housekeeper. Another hiss pulled me from my thoughts. "Sorry," I winced. "Almost done."
"Thank you" he said after I patched each site with gauze and polysporin. "Anytime." "I guess we make more sense than I thought." he said as we sipped coffee in the kitchen. "How so?" I laughed. "A surgeon and a mafia boss. I could use you doll." He smiled. I tilted my head to the side in mock offense. " 's that all I am to you? A good pair of hands to tend to your messes, Mr. Barnes?" I asked. "No no no! I just mean that we make sense, you know?" I smiled at him over my mug. "I know."
He started leaning closer to me, to the point where I could feel his breath on my lips. Bucky's eyes met mine over the small table, his flesh hand coming up to cup my cheek, the other resting its cooler touch on my neck, pulling me in. I never fought once, instantly kissing him back when I felt his lips meet mine.
I sighed into the kiss, letting him hold my face and tip it back. His tongue caressed my lower lip before bringing it into his mouth, sucking on it tenderly. My hand moved to cover his flesh one, leaning into his touch slightly. He inhaled me as he pulled back. I felt my face flush and go warm and his hungry gaze, as if I was his prey and he wanted to devour me whole. "Bucky," I panted.
He smirked devilishly. "You like that, doll?" I nodded dumbly at his question. Bucky's eyes creased at the corners when he smiled, tilting his head down to look at me. "I like you," I whispered. He leaned closer, "I like you too, printessa."
Over the weeks, I had started sharing Bucky's room with him. I had an abundance of plush blankets and soft pillows to cuddle with. He had started coming to bed earlier, and I have started back at the hospital. Joe and my other friends missed me while I was away, and I can guarantee that I missed them just as much, if not more. My Resident Chief and Chief of Surgery both cried when they saw me walk back into the hospital lobby, happy and unharmed.
Life was good again, and I finally felt peace.
#marvel mcu#marvel fanfiction#fanfiction#bucky barnes#mafia!bucky#bucky barnes x fem reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n#mafia!bucky x reader#mafia!bucky x fem reader#mafia!bucky x y/n
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Third Date Etiquette | Bucky Barnes
a/n: Bucky is def my comfort character and writing for him when I haven't in so long is AHHHH. please enjoy đ
pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
The ingredients lay before you on the table. Potatoes, onions, garlic, carrots, and most importantlyâchicken. Your nerves were wracked as you studied the contents of the recipe over and over, practically committing it to memory. It was your third date with the extremely captivating and handsome man, Bucky Barnes. You two quite literally ran into one another at the local Starbucksâyou with a very sweet and frothy latte, Bucky with a bitter iced black coffee.Â
âHi,â Bucky had said to you, piercing blue eyes like windows to the soul. You immediately took comfort. Weird, but you felt safe and you hadnât been in his presence all but for 30 seconds.Â
âHi,â you answer with a sheepish smile, admiring your hands. âIâm sorry, I wasnât watching where I was going.âÂ
He smiled in the friendliest of ways. It wasnât every day you slammed into the hard chest of a man who looked as though he just stepped off of the latest Menâs GQ issue. His scent was homey, earthy. Woodsy and aromatic, he smelled like citrus and sex. The good kind of sex, too. Mouth-watering sex, the kind that will have your toes curling and aching at a memory recalled throughout your normal day.Â
Introductions were quickly exchanged and you were shocked when the stranger who you found to be Bucky asked for your number. By the end of the day, he asked you to dinner, and now just a few weeks later this was lucky date number three. And you offered to cook for him. Your grandmother said that a way to a manâs heart is through his stomach. So with that information tucked away nicely in your brain, you asked if he had any food allergies, and mentioned chicken, and Bucky was immediately on board. He offered to bring the wine.Â
As you began to prepare your chicken and cut up your veggies, you heard the knock on your apartment door. A soft smile spans across your face as you wash up your hands and race for the door, eager like a teenager falling in love for the first time. Inhaling slowly to try and dampen the quick thud of your heart, you check your reflection in the mirror and ensure you look presentable. Opening the door, Bucky stands there in a pair of dark jeans that hug thick thighs wonderfully, a navy blue v-neck tee, and his jacket. In his hand is a bouquet of roses and the bottle of wine he promised to bring.
âHey, Doll,â he smiles. It didnât take him long to give you a sweet little pet name, and âdollâ was so fitting, as if he came straight out of the 1950s.Â
âHello, handsome.â you say breathlessly, ushering him to come inside. He steps over the threshold and pops a gentle kiss onto your cheeks, his warm lips and slight scruff a perfect mixture that sends your heart into overdrive and an ocean down below.Â
You take the flowers and wine from him, laughing over your shoulder as he comments on your sweet little apartment. âItâs very cozy in here.â he laughs, admiring the bookshelf in the corner filled to the brim with all of your favorite reads. From historical romance to paranormal, all the way to romantasy and the occasional dark romance, you had something for every mood.Â
âThank you!â you beam. âItâs not much, but itâs home.âÂ
Bucky felt his heart soften at that. Itâs not much but itâs home. There was nothing more he wanted in this world than to feel at home. To be quite honest, he hadnât felt the essence of home since Steve, and he wasnât so certain that heâd ever get to experience it again. But then there you were⌠bumping into him in that coffee shop. With your bright smile, ease of conversation, and breathtaking beauty. He was smitten and starstruck by you.Â
âThe flowers are gorgeous, Bucky. Thank you so much.â You exhale as you place the vase of water and flowers as a centerpiece on your kitchen table. Bucky looked around, noticing the prepped chicken sitting in a stainless steel roasting pan. Veggies were lined around it like a little bed for the chicken to rest on. He smiled to himself, eager to have a woman offer to cook for him on a date. It wasnât something he was used to and he wouldnât take for granted the sweet gesture.Â
âIâm glad you like them.â He answers. You look at his jacket and laugh.
âGo on, make yourself comfy. Take your coat off. You can lay it over one of the chairs.âÂ
Bucky wets his lips as he shimmies out of his leather and lays it over the back of the wooden chair as you instructed. He admired the full view of you for the first time tonight. You wore a dress that dropped just to your knees and a pair of blush pink flats. You wanted something semi-formal but comfortable. The dress hugged your curves and Buckyâs mouth watered at the image of his hands tracing every single one, committing them to memory. He opened and closed the fist of his metal limb, his eyes fluttering shut. He wanted desperately to know how you tasted and not just what lay beneath that dress and panties he coould only imagine looked likeâbut your mouth. Your mouth looked so sweet and delectable, lips that were made to fit perfectly against his.
âDo you need help with anything?â Bucky asked, gazing around at the nicely-kept kitchen. You had cleaned up as you went along cooking this evening.Â
âYeah⌠You can make yourself useful.â You smirk with a playful tone to your voice. âYou can open that bottle of wine while I grab us two glasses⌠You grabbed my favorite.âÂ
Bucky laughed. âI remembered you ordering it on our first date.âÂ
You stalled in front of the cabinets, the memory of that first day clouding your mind. How much of a gentleman he was despite everyone saying that chivaraly was dead. He pulled out your chair, let you wear his jacket on the way out because it was practically freezing, and he walked you to your doorstep where he kissed you goodnight. Not on the lips, but on the cheek, because he wanted to set the standard with youâthat you were worth more than jumping headfirst. He wanted to feel you out, take his time. After all, you would be the first woman heâd grown to fancy in a very long time⌠and after Samâs whistling over the picture Bucky showed him of you once he confiscated your socials, Sam was hollering for Bucky to quickly lock it down.Â
âYou paid attention.â you giggle, realizing that the wine glasses were sitting on the very top shelf. Grumbling, you were about to grab the stepstool before a warm hand ghosted across yours and a hard chest was felt against your back. Bucky effortlessly grabbed two glasses and locked eyes with you, his eyes not helping but to drop to your lips.Â
If you werenât trying to impress him with your cooking skills, you wouldâve forgotten dinner all together and jumped straight to dessert.Â
Bucky smiled at you as he unloaded the two glasses into your grasp before he went to work on popping the cork. You were enveloped with that homey scent once more, that citrus sending a shock appeal through your loins, your eyes fluttering closed. If you werenât paying attention to maintaining your balance, you might just pooled to the floor then and there.Â
As he popped the cork and you put the chicken in the oven and set a timer on your phone, he offered you a glass.Â
âCheers,â You smiles, clinking your glass to his and taking a sip. The feel of the wine on your tongue was smooth and silky, causing you to ponder if Buckyâs tongue felt the same. You lick your lips as you sat the glass down and admire him.Â
âWhat?â Bucky asks.
Smirking, you shake your head. âIâm just surprised is all.âÂ
Buckyâs eyebrows furrow at the statement. âSurprised?â
You nod your head. âHow I happened to score running directly into the arms of someone this good looking.âÂ
Your comment on his appearance sent a flush down the back of his neck. Bucky Barnes was not the kind of man that blushed, but he suddenly felt an odd sense of heat rise on the apples of his cheeks. He tucked his tongue into the pocket of his cheek and chuckled, cursing under his breath at how a woman, for the first time in his life, had the upper hand on him.Â
âYouâre all for flattery tonight.â Bucky chuckles.Â
âItâs the truth.â You donât back away. That was another thing that pulled Bucky into your orbit. He loved that you said anything that came to mind. It didnât matter how outlandish or awkward it could sound, he loved it. You spoke your mind. You were the epitome of fearless and he knew he could use some more of that in his life.Â
The longer you two stood there and the silence grew, it was one of comfort. You both drank from your glasses and Bucky knew that if he didnât take his chance now, he wouldnât ever do it. He stepped closer and circled a hand around your waist, dropping low on your hip. The feel of his large hand through the fabric of your dress sent a jolt of electricity down your spine as you peered up at him.Â
âJumping to dessert first?â You dare to ask.
âDoll, dessert has been on my mind since I woke up this morning.â Bucky drawled, his voice rich and deep. His warm breath fanned over your bottom lip as he searched your eyes, waiting for the invitation, eager for your confirmation that you too wanted some dessert before dinner.Â
Grinning wildly, the tip of your head and the subtle pushing into his hard frame was all he needed. Bucky caught your thin between his fingertips and dipped low, his lips slotting against yours.Â
Perfect fit.Â
His lips molded to yours. They were soft and pleasant and warm and everything you couldâve dreamed of. He kissed you with such softness that it stole the breath from your lungs. You unhooked your fingers from around the stem of your wineglass and raised them, laying them over his shoulders. You took the leap of courage and deepened the kiss, being the first to run your tongue across his bottom lip, asking for permission to infiltrate.
Bucky opened his mouth a little wider and your tongues touched which sent both of you into a frenzy. A low grunt of approval climbed up Buckyâs throat followed by a breathy moan leaving yours. He turned you both so that the curve of your back was pressed into the island. He pushed forward, your body folding slightly across the granite as he kissed you deeper, kissed you as if you were the oxygen that was snatched from his lungs, kissed you like there would be no tomorrow.Â
âBucky,â You gasp his name as you pull away for a breath of fresh air. But you were so desperate to kiss him again. You never wanted to stop.Â
Buckyâs eyes flickered with a deep sense of want and you had a strong feeling this date might just go to third base.Â
He smirked down at you, the playfulness of his eyes putting you on high alert. His thumb grinded into your hip and in a flash, he had you lifted and your bottom on the counter. Wedging his body between your knees, a shrill of laughter escaped you as you drape your arms over his shoulders. Bucky comes back in, diving head first for more, this time with a lot more passion.
He didnât hold back. Buckyâs hands gripped your sides and danced up until he was grabbing your face, the gasp flooding your lips at the mix of cold of his metal hand and warmth of his flesh one. You groan louder against his mouth as you tangle your legs around his waist and locking your ankles.Â
âHow much longer on that timer?â Bucky asked between deepening kisses.Â
You glance down at your phone. â30 minutes.â You giggle.Â
Talk about some third date etiquette. You wanted this more than anything.
â30 is all I need, Doll.â Bucky laughs, lifting you off the counter and leading you to the couch where he climbs on top of you, his hard body pressing against yours.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x fem reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes one shot#james barnes#james buchanan barnes#marvel fic#sebastian stan character#sebastian stan
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THE HUNTERS & THE SOLDIER
Pairing: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x OC! Avenger Reader
Summary: You, Bucky and the brothers are having troubles understanding literally anything. And a certain Super Soldier finally confesses why he is so harsh towards you.
Warnings: Really obsessed behavior, kidnapping, mention of stalking, unwanted kiss on the cheek and some disturbing behavior (none of it towards reader or any of the main characters), blood, feeling sick and I think thatâs it? -> 18+!!
Other: English isnât my first language.
-> Masterlist
-> Part eight ; Part ten
-> Garden of Eternal Love (09)
You had been walking through the almost empty streets of Lincoln for about half an hour, just minding your business as you walked past by the very few strangers on the streets. It was late at night, probably around four in the morning, but you figured that a city like this would have more people around at this hour. Perhaps it was due to the latest disappearances that more people decided to play it safe and get home early.
You almost didnât recognize the sound of Buckyâs bike as he stopped a few feet away from you, removing his helmet. He looked quite pissed, and he wasnât completely wrong to feel that way. After all, it could have jeopardized the mission if the police found him there at the cemetery, alone at night, nearby a an open casket when just a few days ago someone stole a cadaver.
But what was done was done.
âEmma.â He called out, making you stop in your tracks in front of him.
âFancy seeing you here, I thought youâd be in jail by now.â You said, causing him to roll his eyes.
With a scowl, he tossed his helmet your way and you caught it with a frown. âGet your ass on this bike, we already wasted a lot of time.â He instructed after seeing your expression.
You signed, resigned to the situation. The walk you had managed to calm your nerves, but you mentally noted to finally have a proper talk with him once you got home. There were a few questions you had to ask him, and the fact that he resented you for something you couldnât control made no sense coming from him, who had been Hydraâs puppet for way longer than you. Not to talk about the fact that he seemed somewhat of a different person tonight, although the snarky comments were still there.
âFine.â You mumbled, slipping the helmet over your head before swinging a leg over the bike and settling in behind Bucky.
He glanced back at you, his expression unreadable beneath the dim streetlights. âHold on thigh. Iâm not sure Iâll stop if you fall over.â He said, his tone still harsh.
âWhere do I hold on to?â You asked.
âMe.â He replied.
You took a moment before forcing yourself to wrap your arm around his waist, before you heard the engine roar. Soon enough, you two were speeding in the street straight to the address Dean texted you.
* * * *
Bucky slowed the bike down as you reached an imposing iron gate, locked securely with a massive chain. As soon as he turned off engine, the only source of light disappeared, leaving you both into complete darkness once again. You could see Deanâs Impala parked not far away from the bike, though, so Dean and Sam must have found an entrance nearby.
The only sound that broke the silence was the soft crunch of Buckyâs footsteps as he navigated in the darkness, his torch casting feeble beams of light to illuminate the path. You spotted a gap in the fence, just wide enough for someone to slip through.
âHey.â You called out, drawing Buckyâs attention. âOver here. Watch your steps.â You murmured, stepping through the opening.
Bucky followed suit, illuminating the scene before you. Despite the land having an owner, the place looked abandoned. The trees twisted and contorted in an unnatural, almost, shape and the overgrown lawn was just a tangle of weeds and thorns.
âNot even Steveâs backyard sucks this much.â You heard Bucky say, as you two started trudged along the road leading to the house.
You didnât respond, the sudden feeling of a splitting headache made you momentarily speechless. It felt as though someone was repeatedly hammering at your skull, the pain so sharp that you had to squeeze your eyes shut and clutch at your temples.
âHey.â Buckyâs voice cut through the haze of agony, as he noticed your distress. His hand landed on your shoulder. âYou alright?â
Struggling to open your eyes, you were met with a blurred vision you had never experienced before. Sure, a simple headache wasnât uncommon for you, but this intensity was new. It felt as though your head was being crushed from within, and then, a warm liquid trickled down from your nose.
âWhat the-â You began, reaching up to wipe away the liquid. As your vision cleared slightly, you realized it was blood.
âYouâre not dying, are you? Loki will turn me into a snail if you die.â Buckyâs attempt at humor fell flat, his concern evident beneath the dry chuckle he let out. Watching you struggle to maintain your balance, he swiftly looped an arm around your waist for support.
Your health had always been great, thanks to the fact that your blood was mixed with the Wendigoâs. You couldnât even die if someone really tried, and many people tried over the years and yet there you were. Thatâs what made this sudden pain and disorientation so baffling, it was starting to feel more like something deep within you was struggling to break free. You knew it wasnât normal, but you didnât really try to think of what was happening when you felt like fainting.
You barely registered what Bucky was saying, the piercing sound in your ears shutting out everything else.
Bucky quickly maneuvered one of your arms around his shoulders, carrying you towards the house. The Super Soldier barely had time to watch his surroundings, but he saw a shed in the distance, not far from the house, and he did a metal check of going there later - he had a strange feeling about it.
By the time he reached the house, you were already unconscious and Bucky didnât waste a second to pound on the door repeatedly until Sam swung it open.
âHey, man- whatâs wrong?â Sam asked worriedly, immediately helping Bucky in carrying you inside - although Bucky could have done it on his own.
âI donât know.â The Soldier said tersely, as they laid you on the couch, and as if your pale skin wasnât alarming enough, the nosebleed didnât seem to stop.
With gentle but firm hands, Bucky positioned your head to prevent you chocking on your own blood, pressing a few napkins taken from the nearby coffee table against your nose to staunch the flow.
âSam, the bathroom has this button that cleans your-â Dean began, entering in the room, but cutting himself off when he saw your figure laying on the couch. He ran to your side, looking between his brother and Bucky. âIs she dead?!â Deanâs voice rose in panic.
âNo.â Bucky reassured him, checking your pulse because he wasnât too sure himself. âSheâs never been sick before. She was fine until we walked beyond the fence, it happened almost immediately. She never said anything about feeling even remotely ill today.â
Sam and Dean exchanged a glance that went unnoticed by Bucky since he was still focused on you. Sam approached the window, drawing back the curtains just enough to peer outside for confirmation.
âItâs the symbols on the trees.â Sam began, causing Bucky to turn his attention towards him, waiting for an explanation. âMost of them are anti- demonic symbols, made by Malcom himself probably to⌠ward off demoniac entities.â He looked at anything but Buckyâs eyes as he spoke.
Buckyâs frown deepened. âWhat does this have anything to do with her?â
âWendigos are demonic entities.â Dean sighed. âAnd her blood is mixed up with theirs, which explains the sudden sickness. She was able to enter because sheâs still half human; other creatures wouldnât have that privilege.â He explained.
âShe⌠Is she going to die? Sheâs losing a lot of blood.â Buckyâs concern was evident, his voice oddly soft as he kept his eyes on you.
Dean glanced down at you too, his expression wasnât too different from his. âThere are no symbols in here, she should be safe. Just give her some time.â He reassured, although his tone was worried.
âYou could have said this before we came here, I would have dropped her home.â Bucky said, pissed.
âWe didnât know it would have an effect on her. She was born human, after all.â Sam let out a sight, slightly feeling guilty about your state.
Bucky clenched his jaw, tossing away the bloody napkins to get clean ones as he continued to attempt to staunch the flow of blood from your nose. âWhereâs Malcom?â He asked, remember the whole reasons why he drove all the way here to the cemetery.
âNot here.â Dean sighed in frustration, sinking down onto the other side of the couch. âHe vanished, just like Mrs Miller and the creature locked in her house. Weâve hit a dead end once again.â
âWhy call us to come here, then? You could have given us this information back at the safe house.â Bucky muttered, shorting a glance in Deanâs direction.
Dean took a moment before answering, almost as if he was thinking of a proper answer to give.
âWe donât know if Malcom is dead or alive and we donât know if he took a part in all this mess, so we wanted to leave things as we found them⌠which involves his laptop.â Sam explained immediately before Dean could respond, retrieving said laptop from the nearby table. He approached Bucky, offering him the device. âHe left behind some videos, of himself, and I think you should take a look.â
Bucky turned his attention on the screen as Sam pressed play.
The footage opened immediately with a desolate yard, where Malcomâs figure moved silently. He approached a tree, where some probably homemade stairs were nailed on its trunk. Which each step he took up to what Bucky imagined was a house on the tree, the camera trembled and he could hear some noises in the background.
Finally, Malcom turned the camera towards himself, his smiling face finally on the screen. Bucky was able to see his house on the back so that must have been the backyard as he suspected.
âHello!â Malcom greeted the camera cheerfully, waving. âToday itâs truly a wonderful day, I made a friend - Adam.â He chuckled. âHeâs quite the popular guy around here, I met him at a bar downtown and everyone greeted him - that never happened to me.â Another chuckle followed. âBut truth be told, I donât really like him. Heâs my future girlfriendâs boyfriend, Cassandra canât seem to get rid of him⌠though I know she wants to.â
In the background, muffled screams could be heard after Malcomâs words, his smile faltering for a brief moment. âSorry about that, thatâs Rue.â He explained. âShe isnât much of a social butterfly, much like my Cassie, thatâs why I brought her home.â
The camera turned to reveal a woman, her resemblance to Cassandra herself was unsettling. She was on the floor, bound and gagged, her eyes wide with terror as Malcom approached. âSay hi, Rue!â Malcomâs tone was sickeningly cheerful and Bucky decided then he was some sort of psychopath. âSheâs the tenth.â Malcom continued. âOnly a few more to go before I practice enough so I can take Cassie back home with me. I want our relationship to be perfect once I manage to get her to like me back, so letâs hope for the best!â He cheered. âNow I gotta go, gotta take my girl Rue on a date.â
The camera was turned off, but not before he left a kiss on Rueâs cheek.
Bucky sighed, lowering his head, processing what he just saw. âWhat- what did he mean?â He knew that already, but he wanted to have confirmation.
âWe believe he kidnapped girls that looked like Cassandra to, as he put it , practice on how to be⌠a suitable partner, as stupid as it sounds, to eventually get her to like him.â Dean explained briefly. âHe said she was the tenth, but there are eleven graves outside.â
âGraves?â Bucky frowned in confusion.
âKeep watching.â Sam instructed, sighing.
Bucky complied, and another video began. This time, Malcom appeared in his room, his face covered in dirt and he had his usual smile playing on his lips.
âItâs finally the day!â Malcomâs voice was laced with excitement, as he giggled. âIâm going to bring Cassie here today, everything went according to plan. Sheâs so, so happy, and so am I! Everyoneâs just so happy today!â He moved towards the window, the camera following his gaze to the backyard where the tree with the treehouse stood. There was a sign that said âgarden of eternal loveâ, even.
But it was the freshly dug pits in the ground that caught Buckyâs attention.
âExcept for Rue.â Malcom giggled again, pointing to a particular pit. âI wanted to let her go but her fatherâs a cop, I couldnât risk it.â His tone shifted to sadness, though Bucky sensed the insincerity. âI never laid a finger on any of those women, never harmed them. But they all seemed to hate me! And now theyâre dead!â He exclaimed before taking a deep breath to calm him down after the sudden burst of anger.
âI didnât kill them, though. I gave them a choice, and they made the wrong one.â Malcom said, the camera zooming on his face. âI am not a killer. My mommy raised me to be a good boy, and theyâre closer to God this way anyways. So if anything, I did them a favor. Now, Iâm gonna take Cassie home, sheâs about to leave work⌠wish me good luck!â He bit his lower lip in excitement, waving one last time at the camera before the screen turned black.
âIâd choose the bear.â You mumbled suddenly, causing their heads to snap in your direction as you finally woke up.
âWhat?â Deanâs brows furrowed in confusion as he looked at you from his seat.
âMan or bear⌠Iâd chose the bear. Thatâs a damn psychopath.â You muttered tiredly, forcing yourself into a sitting position. Your head was still pounding but it was slightly getting better. âI only saw the last part, tell me he didnât record himself doing things to those women.â
âHe didnât, physical pleasure isnât the reason he took them.â Dean reassured you. Thankfully.
âGlad to see youâre not dead.â Bucky said with what you swore was a hint of relief in his voice.
âGlad to see you didnât leave me out there.â You said, sighing. âSo what now? What do we do? We have absolutely no clue about anything and I feel like weâre making steps backward instead of forward. I even wonder why Fury sent us here; weâre spies, not FBI agents for fuckâs sake.â You exclaimed angrily, raising to your feet. You had to steady yourself against the wall to avoid falling, since your legs were weak. âAnd now, not only Cassandra is probably dead whether itâs because of this man or her father, but all those women are too, and we are here with empty hands - Iâm this close to having a breakdown.â
Your words hung in the air, they knew you were right. Sam and and Dean fought a lot of monsters before and they solved a lot of cases on their own, but this was Hydra. And Hydra canât be found if it doesnât want to be found, so it made sense that they cleaned the scene - because at this point the only reasonable answer is that they were the ones to delete all the evidence. Perhaps they left Malcomâs laptop to make all the suspects fall on him.
âWhat now?â Samâs tired voice cut through the tense silence. âShould we call the cops? Spread the word about those videos, Cassandra disappeared not too long ago⌠if the police put out an alert for a serial killer on the loose, we might scare him into making a mistake.â Sam suggested.
âNo.â Dean objected immediately. âInvolving the police would be drawing all the attention on Malcom, and what about Hydra?â
Sam took a deep breath nodding at his brotherâs words and didnât answer.
âEvery time I think weâre getting somewhere, shit happens.â Bucky sighed, frustration evident in his tone. âWas it Michael Sawyer who kidnapped Cassandra or was it Malcom? It feels like all we have are speculations and nothing concrete. Are we even sure this is Hydra? First Tony mentioned traces of the super soldier serum in the victims, now weâre dealing with supernatural creatures? Fury doesnât even have the decency to answer the fucking phone.â
âMidlife crisis is hitting hard.â You mumbled, earning a glare from Bucky. âSorry, not the time⌠Listen, letâs do a recap with everything, alright? See if we missed something.â You suggested. âSo, what do we know?â
âThat Fury sent both me and Sam and you and Bucky here knowing what Hydra was doing. He paired us up because we know things about the Wendigo and you two have been in Hydra most of your lives. We know that Hydra want an army full of those creatures for their own twisted ideas, and Michael Sawyer is involved since he used to be the crazy scientist in the facility you were kept in. Also the Wendigo inside his house is not a hint we can ignore.â Dean summarized most of it.
âHow did the Wendigo end up in his house? And how come it didnât eat anyone? Are you sure you were the only one that could control it?â Sam asked, the last question was directly for you.
âYes, when I was in there.â You nodded. âBut itâs been ten years, so maybe⌠maybe they found someone else.â
âOr they found another way.â Bucky said.
âOr they found another way.â You repeated, agreeing with what he said. âAfter all, theyâre capable of anything.â
âDo we still believe that the Wendigo in question is Cassandra?â Dean asked, looking at each of the people in the room.
âItâs the most logical reason. Imagine: you manage to create your own, boring life after Hydra falls and one day your daughter brings up your past. Sheâs a threat to you, and for the people you worked with, so you eliminate her and whoever might have a clue, which was Adam.â Sam explained his point of view, and you personally agreed with it.
âWhy now? How did she even find out? And why didnât the police investigate when she disappeared?â You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.
âHydra has tons of connections, it wouldnât be wrong to think they intervened in the investigation. After all, corrupted cops are not unusual.â Bucky suggested. âAnd to answer the other questions, you mentioned that Cassandra vented about her biological motherâs other daughter to Adam, and the thought of it drove her insane. Iâve been thinking, what if the woman has connections with Hydra? He disappeared for the first time when Cassandra was left on the doorstep and he kept in contact with this woman for what now? More than twenty years? Was this other child older or younger?â
âYounger.â You replied. âShe should be in her mid-twenties now. William has been texting me details he keeps remembering. But this girl in question isnât Michaelâs daughter, so technically theyâre half sisters. Why would she be so mad about it?â
âBecause Sawyer kept this part of her life private. I was angry at the world too when I found out that our father had another son with someone who wasnât our mother, and he was more present in his life than ours. He left me and Sammy starving in motel rooms while he brought our half-brother to baseball games. I wanted to kill him; it was the very first time I genuinely wanted to hurt my father and the kid he chose over us.â Dean said, sharing a part of his and Samâs life neither you or Bucky knew anything about.
His head low as he spoke. âCassandra was left on Mrs Millerâs doorstep before she could even walk, and then years later she found out that her biological mother was asking about the other daughter and not her.â Dean finished.
âIt would make a lot of sense to think that she wanted to find out more about her biological mother, digging in her fatherâs past. Which eventually led her to find about Hydra and what her father did to people during the time he was away.â Sam said, sitting on the couch beside Dean.
âAnother reason to think this woman has ties with Hydra too.â Bucky added, reaffirming his previous point.
âThis makes sense, actually.â You acknowledged, registering the things they said. âAnd what about Malcom? Was Cassandra just too unlucky to be caught between a rock and a hard place? On one hand, a psychopath obsessed with her who kidnaps women, and on the other, another psychopath whoâs a part of a terrorist organization that kidnaps people.â
âBut then againâŚâ Bucky let out a heavy sigh. âThese are speculations. Whether it makes sense or not, concretely what do we have? Almost nothing.â
You bit your lower lip, then turned to Sam and Dean. âDid you two check the whole place? Maybe thereâs something around here. At least to know if it was Malcom who took Cassandra or not.â
âExcept for a few creepy things upstairs, the house is normal. No signs of fights, hidden doors or blood. Absolutely nothing. Everythingâs just dirty, but I donât think the guyâs first thought was cleaning the house.â Dean replied.
âWhat about the shed outside?â Bucky suggested. âI saw it when I was bringing her in after she gracefully passed out.â He pointed at you, and you rolled your eyes at the remark.
âUh⌠is there a shed outside?â Dean raised a brow, clearly unaware of it.
Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose, his annoyance evident. Understandably. Malcom was nowhere to be found in his house and who said he wasnât hiding there?
âWeâll go to check.â Sam said, hitting his brother lightly on the shoulder.
âIâll come with you.â You proposed, though you werenât feeling much better than before. The headache persisted, and you had a bloody taste in your mouth, but at least now it was manageable.
âNo. You sit your ass back down.â Bucky sternly said.
âNo.â You protested.
âItâs better if you stay here.â Sam backed Bucky up, rising from the couch ready to get out and see what both him and Dean had missed.
âWhat? Why?â You asked, frowning in confusion.
âWeâll explain later, Em, but I really donât like the idea of you dying.â Dean explained cryptically, his words leaving you more confused that before. He wasnât making any sense.
Bucky moved to join the brothers, but Dean halted him. âWhen Sam said âyouâ, he meant both of you. Have fun while weâre away, kids.â He remarked with a good smile, before leaving with Sam and closing the door behind them.
âI hate those two.â Bucky grunted, sinking further on the couch.
âTheyâre not so bad.â You shrugged. âThey just donât make sense sometimes. I heard them talk about stopping an apocalypse once. Weird, isnât it?â You chuckled at the absurdity.
Bucky looked at you with a raised eyebrow. âYou do realize a God, specifically your best buddy, tried to conquer Earth just to get back at his brother, right? What makes you think other Gods arenât as bad? If weâre even talking about Gods here.â
âIâm not really an expert in Godsâ behavior, James, I only know two. One has murderous instincts after every minor inconvenience and the other one is frightened by lizards. Nothing really makes sense here.â You shrugged. âAnd Loki isnât bad once you get to know him.â
âDidnât he try to turn you into a lizard because he knew youâd run to Thor and Thor would embarrass himself in front of everyone?â He reminded you, emphasizing Lokiâs nature. He wasnât close to the God of Mischief, but he knew you were. For some reason.
âEveryone has issues.â You said, shrugging, trying to rationalize Lokiâs actions. Not that he ever did anything against your consent, you did actually think that his idea was funny. âBesides, he was the only one decent enough to not treat me as some kind of outcast when I joined the team.â
âNobody treated you as such, I was there.â Bucky countered.
âYou did.â You reminded him. âIâm not saying they werenât kind. But they never tried to- listen, itâs not the place to talk about it. Everythingâs in the past, so letâs just wait for Sam and Dean to get back so we can go home.â
Bucky didnât respond immediately, his gaze fixed on you as you settled down on the other side of the couch. âHow are you feeling?â He asked with genuine concern in his voice.
You met his gaze before replying. âBetter than before.â You shrugged. âThank you for not leaving me out there by the way.â
âWhy? Would you have done it?â
âNo.â You answered honesty, shaking your head. âBut I donât have a burning hatred for you.â
Bucky looked away for a moment. âItâs not like the reason why I donât like you is an excuse, Emma. And I already said Iâm trying to be better. You- you didnât even apologize to me, not once ever since we met again.â The last part was almost murmured, and you could sense some frustration.
âMet again? What does that even mean?â You scoffed. âAnd you keep acting as if I had a choice. You never held Wanda or Pietro accountable for actually joining Hydra willingly, so why me?â You demanded, desperate to have some answers. âWhat have I done to you? Why do I need to apologize?â
Bucky bit his lower lip, struggling to find the right words. âWanda and Pietro never brought me back to Hydra when I finally managed to escape.â He confessed, meeting your eyes with an unreadable expression and your frown deepened. âYou did.â He finally said.
⌠what?
#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x oc#bucky x you#dean winchester#james bucky barnes#sam winchester#supernatural#marvel#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x oc#bucky winter soldier#bucky x y/n#bucky fanfic#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes x yn#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x fem reader#bucky x original character#bucky barnes x original female character#winter soldier#james buchanan barnes#mcu
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Bucky Barnes x little reader
Little reader loves being tickled?
Tickle Monster
Flufftober, October 18th
Female little reader x Daddy Bucky Barnes
Warnings: None
A/n: short cute drabble
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Daddy!" you squealed as Bucky lifted you up into his lap from where he sat on the couch.
"Hey baby girl" he kissed the top of your head.
You snuggled into his chest, taking in the warmth radiating off him, "How's my baby?" he mumbles into your soft hair.
"good" you reply, distracted by playing with his henley.
"I'm sure you are" Bucky runs his fingers down your neck and shoulders. You let out little giggles, his shirt stifling them.
"Oh, you like tickles, baby girl" He smiles, starting to run his finger to your stomach. You let a squeal and start giggling endlessly.
His fingers run all over your body, making you laugh, "Dada!" You nuzzle your head into his chest as he tickles you.
After he stops, he holds you tightly against your chest. "My ticklish little baby" He whispers into your ear and kisses your nose.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x little!reader#bucky barnes x little reader#daddy bucky x little reader#daddy bucky#daddy bucky barnes#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x fem reader#cute#fluff#imagines#fanfic#writing#tickles#tickling#marvel#the winter soldier
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Title: The Weather
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3,160
Rating: PG13 - FLUFF
Warnings: Swearing
Disclaimer: I do not own Bucky Barnes, or anything related to Marvel within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.
I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.
You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.
It took James Barnes three months to speak more than a 'hello' and an appointment time to the beautiful woman that sits behind the front desk in Dr. Raynor's stuffy office. She is the opposite of Dr. Raynor, her edges are still soft, her soul not bared to the world- covered in blood and devoid of sacrifice and suffering.Â
At first, James found her intriguing. The way she sat, stick straight, attention always on her work. Her hair was never quite perfect, a sweet halo of frizz adorning her head, complimenting the way her eyes seemed to always crinkle at the corners whenever she would smile at him. She would always smile at him while keeping her hands busy with paperwork, tucking loose pages into files- paperclips, pens, and highlighters strewn around her desk.Â
Every day he talked himself up in the mirror and then again on the train, saying that today would be the day he would speak to her, finally catch her name, maybe even give her a real reason to smile- something more than just being customer service friendly. She's the one thing that seems to radiate positivity and light in the near desolate office he visits once a week.Â
Today it is raining, somewhere between pouring and deluge and Bucky trails a small creek into the office with him. The water streaks down his face, hair sticking to his forehead. Droplets race down his leather clad body, pelting the tile floor.Â
"Good morning, Mr. Barnes," The dame behind the desk speaks, her voice like fresh honey and it washes a tidal wave of warmth over Bucky. He shivers, goosebumps breaking out over his skin. Bucky is clammy and cold to the touch but it doesn't seem to bother him. The wet droplets that roll off his body don't either. Finally, the women looks up at Bucky, a bit of shock rolls over he features before before it's replaced with a chuckle and her signature smile, eyes crinkling but still shinning under the florescent lights. "Looks like that storm's gotten pretty bad since I got in this morning," She comments, standing up from her chair to greet him, "Don't you own an umbrella?"Â
Bucky can't help the laugh that escapes his lips, deep and full like the sweetest expresso she's ever tasted. Her body buzzes from the sound, joy vibrating under her skin at the change in his usually stony demeanor. The furrow of his brow is lessoned now, a smile threatening to pull at his lips, but his expression remains neutral. Yet, somehow, it's like a smile had reached his eyes with the way he look at her.
"Oh, you know, didn't think I'd need one but the weather really took a turn and now I'm swimming in my boots," He almost laughs, almost, the squelching sound of his boots and the harmony of the squeaking floor with each step he takes towards the desk makes him feel the most on display he has in years. The full tooth smile she gives him makes it worth it. "I have an 11:30 with Dr. Raynor."
"I've already got you all checked in, but," his confidence faulters a bit, as does her smile, "Dr. Raynor was called into an emergency meeting this morning, about an hour ago, and she still isn't back yet. She called to let me know that she is on her way, and she wanted me to ask you to wait. So, if you could take a seat and hang out, that would be lovely," She rambles a bit, spinning one of the many rings she wears on her delicate fingers. She plays with the large gem, spinning the band round and round as if she could twirl her anxiety away with each revolution of the silver band.Â
 "Yeah, uhh-" Bucky stutters a bit, brushing back his bangs then attempting to flick the water off of his fingers with the shake of his wrist, "I can wait, definitely." He nods at her like he has any other choice, and she nods back, the awkwardness of the whole scenario becoming more palpable with each tick of the clock.Â
She sits back down too, after a moment, tucking her skirt under her backside with a quick motion before she turns back to the paperwork in front of her. The only sounds in the room are the light piano music playing over the speakers, almost too quiet for the average person to hear, and the clicking of the keyboard as she types. Bucky can almost hear her breathing, if he strains to listen, the small breathes pushing past her lips and then back in.Â
Bucky watches as she works, her tongue poking out of her mouth from between her lips as she concentrates. His heart flutters at the sight, and he thinks he might pass away right then and there when she drags her bottom lip between her teeth.Â
He watches the clock too. It hangs on the plain wall behind her, and the minutes seem to tick by slower and slower with each passing glance. But time seems to stand still as he watches her tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He notices the diamonds and pearls decorating her ear, a site he isn't quite used to yet but still finds intriguing. The idea that someone might purposefully stab themselves to then adorn their bodies is something he finds perplexing and she finds irresistible.Â
"Hey, can I ask you somethin'?" Bucky finally breaks the silence, the clicking of her keyboard slowly dissipating. She flashes that grin of hers at him and he melts.Â
"What's up, Mr. Barnes?" She stands to look him in the eye over her computer. He sits in the waiting area, off to the side of her desk. He plays with the cuffs of his coat, fingering at the zippers and tugging at the fabric.Â
"I just realized, I've been coming here for a while now and it has never occurred to me to ask you your name," She laughs a bit at him, one of those small laughs that comes from the back of the throat. She gives him her name and it gently falls from her lips like it's the easiest thing in the world and he decides that it is. Bucky repeats her name back, it's liquid sugar on his tongue- he wears a shy smile now, the rest of his body useless, like he's been zipped into a body bag as his mind spins.Â
The rain is turning to hail, the small bits of ice pinging off of the windows, echoing though out the office. The lights flicker, off, on, then back off, leaving them sitting in the dark. Bucky tenses, his hands tightening around the arms of his chair as his companion lets out a huff in irritation.Â
"Well, so much for getting any sort of work done now," She grumbles, pushing herself away from the desk. She moves around her desk, but not carefully enough. A low smack, the sound of bone hitting wood is heard throughout the room, and so are the swear words and grumblings that leave her lips.Â
"Are you okay, doll?" Bucky asks too quickly, jumping to his feet.Â
"Oh yeah, I'm- I'm just great. My knee just wanted to make friends with the corner of my desk, that's all," She informs him, rubbing her sore knee with her hands. She moves to sit in front of her desk, making home on the floor, her back pressed against the wood. Bucky tries to make out her form in the dark, but he can barely see her from where he stands. He pulls his cellphone out, clicking the flashlight on to illuminate the room. He places it on the floor, nudging it with the toe of his boot so it sits between them.Â
She offers him a quiet thank you, devoid of a smile.Â
"Can I ask you something, now? The way I see it, it's my turn," Bucky hums in approval, "What's going on in that head of yours?" Bucky is thrown by the question and it hangs in the stale air. "Let me rephrase, because I'm not asking about the shit you come here to talk to Dr. Raynor about. What do you think about when you're not avenging or chitchatting with the good doctor?"Â
Bucky's thoughts flash through his mind quickly, the nightmares and the amends he has left to make. He thinks about Steve, and he thinks about Sam. He thinks about the community Sam has built with his family and the way they take care of each other. He thinks about how he lacks all of that. The family, the community, the honor. But mostly, he thinks about her and the way her eyes crinkle and that one time her hair was braided back and the way he could see her whole face for the very first time.Â
"I like the weather," He says simply, sitting himself down on the floor to meet her level.Â
"The weather?" She asks him, leaning towards him curiously.Â
Specks of dust flutter through the air, visible only through the glow of the flashlight. Each speck seems to dance in the tension around them, her question going unanswered for a few beats before he sighs in an attempt to relieve the strain building in his ribcage.Â
"Yeah, the weather. It seems to be the only thing I really understand anymore. That, and I like the rain," He concludes with a hand tugging through the mess of hair atop his head. He can't tell her that the sun doesn't come close to shining as bright as she does, so he settles with liking the rain. It seems more than honest. She tries to hold back a giggle at his answer. The causal air of it and the simplicity of the choice he has made. She doesn't push the topic further, not truly believing that he often thinks of the weather. But she knows better than to challenge the fact.Â
Maybe if they were in a different universe, or following a different timeline. One that they may be able to reach out in and dust their fingertips over if it weren't for the fabric of space time holding them firmly in place. Maybe, one universe over, just to the left of where they sit now, they are still sitting together, but not on the floor of a government sanctioned medical facility, but in a cafe.Â
They sit together, knees touching underneath the small bistro table in the corner of the cramped cafe. He calls her 'sunshine', because she is. She calls him 'lover', and he hates it in the way to say that he has never loved being called something more.Â
Their fingers are intertwined on the table top, not caring who sees them together. Bucky would be drinking coffee, something with actual flavor because he would actually let himself enjoy it. She still drinks black coffee because it makes her soul feel at home. They both wear genuine smiles, talking and laughing, enjoying each other's company. Definitely somewhere between date fifteen and twenty, planning their lives side by side but not yet together.Â
In the timeline on their right they are together, in their apartment. Sunny, that's what he calls her there, is painting the walls sage green. James, sits in the middle of the room attempting to build a coffee table that they purchased from IKEA earlier that week. He grumbles about missing pieces, rummaging through the little plastic baggies and Sunny just laughs at him.Â
She walks over and dabs a bit of the paint on his nose; both of their faces end up covered in green by the time they are done locking lips. They lay on the floor, surrounded by half finished projects, completely head over heels in love with one another.Â
She has no idea about the ring he has hidden in his sock drawer, or the way his heart beats just a little bit faster every time she goes into that drawer to steal a pair of his socks just because she claims they are more comfortable than her own. He really needs to find a new hiding spot, but he has been so caught up in the life they are creating he really hasn't bothered to think of a better place.Â
There is another universe about an arms length away where they are meeting for the first time. One where Bucky is quicker to forgive himself and more gentle with his own soul, with himself. She hasn't been given a nickname here, at least not yet. They cross paths on the train- she is stepping off and Bucky steps on. Their knuckles graze over each other, both turning to whisper an apology just as the doors shut.Â
They lock eyes and Bucky offers her a kind smile, one that has come easy to him for years now. She offers a small smile in return, one that is much more shy and reserved than the one she has just received. Just then, the train begins to pull away, their lives once again headed in separate directions.Â
She watches as the train pulls away, eyes still on the brunet, feet planted firmly in place. Bucky starts walking towards the back of the train, eyes still fixed on the woman who holds his attention like a vice. When he finally makes it to the end of the train, he is left with nothing to do but offer her a wave and a smile. She returns it in kind.Â
But here and now they sit in the darkness, a storm raging outside, leaving them trapped inside with nothing but each others company and the glow of the flashlight between them. Neither one has been brave enough to speak for a little while. They have made themselves comfortable on the floor and in the shared silence.Â
Bucky can't help but think about how beautiful she is. The way that she lights up the room with nothing more than her presence. He mulls over the fact that he took so long to talk to her, and the tightness in his chest seems to linger the longer he beats himself up for it. He twiddles with his fingers, fidgeting where he sits. He is almost dry now but his boots are still soaked through, squelching when he moves. She pretends not to notice it, stifling a laugh with the heel of her hand pressed firmly against her lips.Â
"I think I'm going to call you Solntse," He says absentmindedly, more to himself and maybe the room than to her directly. "Yeah, Solntse, it suits you."
"What does that mean, Mr. Barnes?" Solntse questions him, peering through the harsh beam of the flashlight.Â
"It means sun. It's Russian. And please, call me Bucky, or hell, I'll even take James, but please quit calling me Mr. Barnes," He speaks candidly, rubbing over his face with his flesh hand. He pulled off his gloves a few minutes ago, the action going unnoticed.Â
"Okay, Bucky. Russian sun it is," Solntse chuckles, crossing her ankles out in front of her.Â
"That is, if you don't mind- I guess I should've asked first," Bucky attempts to backtrack, fumbling over his words as the embarrassment wells inside him. A blush begins to bloom over Solntse's face and neck, a raspberry hue covering her skin.Â
"I don't mind, Buck, truly. Plus they say you can't pick your own nickname. It goes against the whole point of having a nickname," She chuckles, a smile spread wide across her face as the pink tint begins to fade. She doesn't know what comes over her but she crawls over to Bucky, plopping herself down in the spot next to him. Bucky can't help the way his heart quickens at he movements, the proximity of her body to his and the scent of her perfume make him dizzy.Â
They sit next to each other like that for a while, the silence taking over again. It's not too long after they are plunged back into darkness, the flashlight in front of them shutting off without warning. The sudden darkness catches Solntse by surprise, causing her to jump and let out a little yip of surprise. She grabs onto Bucky, hands wrapping around his metal arm, squeezing tightly. It all happens in a split second; each party feeling a complete and sudden shift in the air around them.Â
They turn to face one another, noses almost brushing. Solntse can feel the deep blush burning on her skin again, the heat taking over her senses. Bucky lets a small chuckle escape him. It sounds full and comforting, even if it is at her own expense.Â
"You're safe, doll, I've got you," Bucky whispers, pulling her as close as he can in their current position. Solntse can feel the way his fingertips dip into her flesh, the feeling grounding her in the moment, to him and his closeness. She squeezes him back.Â
"Thank you," She whispers, voice barely audible. A smirk slips onto Bucky's slips and it goes unnoticed by Solntse until she leans forwards and closes the gap between them. The movement is clumsy in the dark, their noses bumping together at first.Â
The kiss is slow and sweet, lips mingling together as if they have a thousand times before- and they have in the universes that surround them. The way their lips move together is not new to the universes else where, and neither is the way Bucky moves to pull her into his lap, her knees finding purchase on either side of his thighs. He tangles his hands in her hair the same way he always has and always will. She pulls at the lapels of his jacket all the same. The newness of it all sparking tingles beneath their fingertips, reverberating all over their bodies and the way they mingle together in this place, in this now.Â
She pulls back from his lips, just mere millimeters, far enough to cause a small whimper to leave Bucky. "I think about the weather too," She confesses, the meaning just as deep to her as it had been to him, even if he thought she hadn't originally picked up on that fact.Â
"Let me take you somewhere, anywhere you want to go. Coffee, food, drinks, hell I'll take you anywhere, just say the word," He almost pleads, but the words come out more smooth than needy.Â
"I have a shift to finish, and you still have an appointment, but you can pick me up from my place tonight," She punctuates her sentence with a brush of her lips against his, "And you can take me to get a pizza and beer on draft and we can talk more."
"About the weather?" He questions her, smirk across his lips.Â
"Yes, about the weather." She confirms just before closing the gap between them again.Â
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x fem reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes goes to therapy#marvel x reader
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devil's in the backseat
bucky barnes x reader
word count: 3.7k
summary/prompt: a night at coney island with your friends turns out much differently than expected.
or getting fucked in front of a mirror
author's note: this is my first halloween fic!! this was so much fun to write. if you've read haunting adeline, then you know exactly what inspired the mirror maze scene! also disclaimer i have never been to coney island so if any of this is inaccurate then just pretend ok it's fiction :))
warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only content, sex in a public setting, mirror sex, oral (female receiving), unprotected p in v, friends to lovers, romanogers makes an appearance! kind of grumpy!reader, protective bucky, random men being creepy, language, reader is afab, she/her pronouns, reader pov, no use of y/n, porn with a little plot, fluff
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âI can't fucking believe I let you talk me into wearing this.â
You tug the tight, cherry red colored velvet fabric of the babydoll dress in place for the dozenth time since arriving at Coney Island.
âWhat? You look hot. Plus, our costumes go great together.â
Natasha's costume mirrors your own - except hers is a pearlescent white and instead of a pitchfork and horns, she dons angel wings and a halo.
âI don't feel hot. I feel cold. It's fifty degrees and the sun hasn't even set yet.â If it wasn't for the black thigh high boots that cover the majority of your legs, you'd be shivering in the chilly late October weather.
âIt's not my fault that you put off getting a costume until the last minute and had to pick through what little was left at Spirit Halloween,â she mumbles, passing you one of the cups of apple cider that the cashier hands to her. You gladly accept, sucking down the hot liquid in hopes that it will warm you from the inside.
Her phone dings as the two of you walk towards the rides. âIt's Steve,â she informs you as she reads the text message. âThey just got here,â she looks back up at you with a smirk on her face and a mischievous gleam in her eye. âBucky decided to come with them.â
You roll your eyes, suddenly hating your borderline provocative costume even more.
âI thought he was leaving for a job in Denver this evening?â
It's not that you didn't want to see Bucky. It's that you didn't want to see Bucky dressed like this. As if you don't already get flustered around him when you're dressed in normal, everyday clothing. The hem of your dress barely conceals the curve of your ass and your tits are practically spilling over the low neckline.
âGuess it's been postponed,â she shrugs, nudging you with her shoulder.
The two of you turn to look in the opposite direction when a familiar voice calls your names. You see Steve, Sam, and Bucky walking towards you. Steve is dressed as a pirate, eyepatch and all. Sam wears a cowboy costume with an oversized hat, concealing the upper half of his face entirely.
And Bucky? Bucky wears jeans and a navy blue Henley.
Yeah, you're regretting any of your life choices that lead up to this moment.
âWell, well, well,â Sam drawls as he tips his hat back enough to take in yours and Natashaâs outfits. âLook what we have here. An angel and a devil. Have you two already entered the costume contest for best duo or should I go add your names?â
âYou wouldn't dare,â you scold him. Natasha just laughs, falling into Steveâs embrace as he plants a kiss to her forehead.
âWe should, you know,â Natasha agrees. âI think we'd have a pretty good shot at winning.â
âYeah, right,â you retort, looking around at some of the more elaborate, creative costumes that many of the strangers around you are sporting. You notice a man and woman dressed as Beetlejuice and Lydia Deetz and know that you and Nat wouldn't stand a chance in a costume contest. âAnd what about you?â You acknowledge Bucky, your eyes skimming up and down his civilian clothes. âDidn't have time to pull together a costume?â
He smirks, his eyes trailing up your figure for a heated moment before he responds. âI'll have you know that I am in costume, actually.â
Steve and Sam both snort in laughter.
âOh yeah? And what are you supposed to be, exactly?â
He tugs up the sleeve of his shirt, showing off the shiny vibranium that is his left arm.
âI'm the Winter Soldier,â he says with a smug grin. âObviously.â
âHow creative,â you praise sarcastically.
âCut me some slack,â he feigns insult. âI was supposed to be halfway to Colorado right now. I didn't have time to pull together anything too cute.â His eyes flicker to your dress and boots at the word cute. If anyone else notices, they say nothing.
âWhat are we doing just standing around here?â Natasha exclaims, tugging Steve in the direction of the rides and games. âI want to ride every ride and eat funnel cake.â
They race ahead of the rest of you, with Sam close behind, leaving you and Bucky to fall into step beside each other.
âSo, why did your mission get postponed?â You ask casually, trying to fight down the nerves that threaten to bubble over every time you're alone with him.
âBeats me,â he shrugs. âFury didn't give much of an explanation. I got the text as I was loading my bags into the car to head out.â
âThat's annoying,â you mumble, swallowing the remnants of your hot apple cider. âI'm sorry,â you tell him with a glance in his direction. âI'm sure it was for a good reason.â
He shrugs. âI'm here, so I can't be too mad about it.â
Before you can overthink exactly what he means by that, you're both brought to a halt when a jolly looking man in a Ghostbusters costume steps directly in front of you, blocking your path.
âThis little devil looks like she needs a giant sloth!â He exclaims, gesturing towards the prizes hanging above the balloon darts station next to you.
âOh, no,â you start. âThatâs okayââ
âCome on!â The red-faced vendor insists, looking at Bucky. âDon't you want to win your girl a giant sloth? Perhaps a giant giraffe? If she was mine, I'd be winning her any prize she wants. I'll give you five throws for ten dollââ
âFine, fine,â Bucky relents, digging into his back pocket for his wallet. You notice a faint hint of pink blooms along the apples of his cheeks, but he doesn't correct the man when he calls you his girl. âYou've worn me down,â he sighs as he shoves a crumpled ten dollar bill into the man's hand.
The man accepts the money with a satisfied, toothy grin and hands Bucky five darts.
âIf you get three out of the five throws, you can choose a prize from here,â the man gestures towards a section of smaller prizes. âAnd if you get all five throws, you can chooseââ
The man is cut off by the sharp popping sound of a balloon, and then a second, and a third, until all five darts have been impaled on the board in a consecutive line in a matter of seconds.
âShe'll take the bunny,â Bucky tells him before he can erase the stunned look off of his face. He points to a large, flop-eared purple bunny hanging from the upper row of prizes.
Unlike the vendor, you aren't shocked by his perfect aim at all. Anyone who knows Bucky would have known that he wouldn't miss a single shot. You are shocked, however, that he chose the bunny without even asking which prize you want.
The man in the Ghostbusters costume grabs the bunny and hands it to you, surprise still etched on his face. He mumbles a quick goodnight before he's moving onto the next people approaching the stand.
âHow did you know I'd want the bunny?â You ask Bucky, trying to juggle the stuffed animal, your empty cup of cider, and your pitchfork all in your arms.
âYou like bunnies, right? It was an educated guess.â He shrugs, moving through a thick crowd of people away from the game stations. âHere, let me carry it for you,â he offers when he notices the large stuffed animal is obstructing your vision. You hand it over to him and he tucks it underneath his metal arm.
âThank you,â you tell him, your cheeks heating at the realization that he'd remembered such an inconsequential piece of information about you. You do like bunnies. The cold night air suddenly feels a lot more balmy.
âI'm - uh - I'm going to find a trash can real quick,â you say as you wiggle the empty cup in your hand. Truthfully, you just need a moment to collect yourself.
You begin walking in the opposite direction before he can reply, your eyes scanning the throng of people for a garbage can.
So what if he knows that you like bunnies? It's a pretty trivial fact that probably means nothing. You know that Natashaâs favorite animal is flamingos - because she's your friend. It's normal for friends to know things that their friends like.
Right? Right.
âI like that outfit a whole lot, baby. But I think you'd look even cuter in just the boots and those horns.â
You're so lost in your internal monologue that you don't even notice two men closing in on you as you toss the empty cup into a trash can. Unlike most of the people here tonight, neither of them are in costumes. They stand so close to you that you can smell booze on their breath.
âOh, fuck off,â you groan as you attempt to walk away, but they've effectively blocked you between their bodies and the large garbage can behind you. Wicked grins grow on their faces as you realize that you can't get by them.
âLook, I donât have the patience for this tonight. Get out of my fucking way.â
âOr what?â One of them taunts. âYou'll use that little pitchfork on us? Jokes on you, because we're into that.â
âWhat if I used it on you?â A familiar voice comes from behind them. âWould you still like that?â
Before they can even turn around to identify the voice, Bucky is pulling him back by the hood of his sweatshirt and throwing him on the ground with little to no effort. The other one attempts to stumble away as Bucky turns his attention to him.
He still has your bunny clutched in his flesh hand - despite the seriousness of the situation, you have to bite your lip to keep from smirking at the sight. You don't know of anyone who could be quite as intimidating while holding a stuffed purple bunny.
âWhat about you?â Bucky asks, towering over the guy by half a foot. âYou got anything you wanna say?â
âI - no - we didn't know she was with someone,â he half slurs, half stutters out. His gaze flickers to Bucky's vibranium hand. The man on the ground manages to stand back up, following after his friend.
âNow you know,â Bucky calls after them as they quickly hobble away.
âI had that handled, you know,â you tell Bucky with a nod towards your pitchfork. âBut thank you, anyway. Really.â
He places a gentle but firm grasp on the top of your arms and begins to tug you in the opposite direction, guiding you through the small crowd that had stopped to witness the altercation.
âI have no doubt about that,â he sighs, releasing his grip on you when the two of you are a reasonable distance away. âBut I also don't doubt that you handling it would have drawn even more attention.â
He's right. If he hadn't stepped in, your method of handling it would have been even more dramatic.
âThey would have deserved it,â you mumble. âI knew I shouldn't have worn this stupid costume.â
âThey definitely would have deserved it,â he agrees. âAnd your costume isn't stupid. You should be able to wear any costume you like without getting harassed by drunk assholes.â
The two of you approach the ferris wheel as it comes to a slow stop, a couple getting out of one of the cars. You and Bucky flash your wristbands to the operator, who offers to hold your pitchfork for you while youâre on the ride.
âBesides,â he continues as you sit down next to each other in the car, the operator locking the gate in place. âI happen to like your costume. A lot.â He turns his head to you, his gaze trailing from the tops of your thigh high boots and up to the felt horns that adorn your head.
There's a shift in energy as the ferris wheel suddenly comes to life, sending you sliding across the limited space of the metal bench seat and right up against him.
âOh, yeah?â You tease with your face a few inches from his. Close enough to see your reflection in his irises. âIs that why two different people have implied that I'm yours tonight and you haven't corrected either of them?â
âYour costume had nothing to do with that. I wouldn't have corrected them even if you were dressed as a giant banana,â he says, his tone and face both serious. âDoes it bother you that I didn't correct them?â
âNo,â you answer automatically - eagerly. You should feel embarrassed, but with the way he's looking at you, and how good it feels to be pressed so snug against him, you can't find it within yourself to care. âI didn't correct them either,â you point out.
The ferris wheel comes to a stop to let new people get on when your cart reaches the peak.
âAnd why is that?â he asks lowly. If you weren't sitting so close to him, you wouldn't have been able to hear him over the obnoxiously loud carnival music that pours from speakers in between the ferris wheel's carts.
He wraps his metal arm around your shoulders, pulling you further into him.
âBecause I liked the sound of it,â you answer honestly. Your voice quivers - from nerves, or from a gust of wind that sways the pod still perching at the top of the wheel.
âIs that right?â he murmurs. He places his flesh hand on the exposed skin of your thigh - just above the top of your boot and just under the hem of your dress. His fingertips rest near the crack between your thighs. Instinctively, you spread your legs apart - not much, but enough for him to smirk at your body's automatic response to his touch.
âYou like the sound of being my girl?â
âYeah,â you breathe. âI do. Is that okay with you?â
He chuckles, his fingers inching further up your thigh. You spread your legs open further, giving him the go ahead to go as high as he wants. He stops when he reaches the apex of your thighs, just an inch away from the cloth of your panties. He applies pressure with his fingertips, his short nails digging into the sensitive flesh and making you clench your legs around his hand.
âThat depends,â he contemplates. âAre you my girl?â
You open your mouth to answer when the sensation of his index finger grazing the fabric that covers your cunt makes you forget how to speak. You sit there with your mouth agape as he hooks a finger into the cotton panties.
He eases a finger through your folds, lubricating it in your slick before adding a second finger and massaging the pads of them over your sensitive clit.
âFeels like you're my girl.â
You become vaguely aware of the fact that the ride is now in motion once more, heading back down to the ground, when Bucky places the stuffed bunny on your lap in an effort to conceal what is happening in the cart that you and him share.
He alternates between slow, languid circles and quick strokes against your clit as the ferris wheel makes its way down and then back up again. You can feel yourself soaking your underwear as the world dizzies around you. You hide your face in Bucky's neck to conceal the pleasure written across your face.
You're seconds away from coming against his fingers, the pressure in your belly building to a climax, when he pulls away and tugs your dress into place. Your gaze snaps up to his, shooting daggers, as the ride comes to a slow stop. He looks back at you with an amused smirk as the operator approaches the cart to unlock the gate.
âSorry about that, sweetheart,â he tells you in a strained voice as he snatches the bunny back from you. âAfter you,â he motions with his head as the operator holds the gate open for you.
Stunned and speechless at what just happened, you stumble out of the cart and down the stairs to the ride's exit with Bucky behind you - both of you completely forgetting about your pitchfork. You can't help but snort a laugh at the position of the large stuffed animal - directly over Buckyâs crotch.
âReal discreet,â you tell him, glancing down at the bunny and then back up to the semi-pained expression on his face.
âI have to admit, right now this thing is worth every penny that I spent on it,â he sighs, and then removes one hand from the bunny to place it on your lower back. âFollow me,â he instructs with a smirk.
He guides you through the crowd and you follow him without question, just trying to ignore the wet ache between your legs.
You shoot him a quizzical look when you arrive at the house of mirrors. You haven't been in a mirror maze since you'd gotten lost in one at ten years old.
There's an attendant sitting in a chair outside of the entrance who unenthusiastically greets the two of you. Bucky reaches into his pocket, digging out his wallet for the second time that evening. He pulls out a hundred dollar bill and flashes it at the elderly man smoking a Pall Mall.
âTake this and don't let anyone else in until we come out,â Bucky tells him before dragging you into the attraction. You and the gray haired man both go wide eyed.
âWhat was that?â you cackle as the door slams to a close behind you. Bucky doesn't answer, just grabs one of your hands in his and begins guiding you through the maze of mirrors as if he's been here a hundred times.
The entire place is lit by bright, neon red lights that only aid in further confusing your sense of direction. Bucky doesnât seem phased in the slightest, finally coming to a stop after a few minutes of maneuvering through the endless mirrors.
âYou never answered me, you know,â he says as he drops your bunny to the floor. âWhen I asked if you're my girl.â He smirks at you, stepping closer to you and backing you against the mirror behind you.
âYou just paid that man a hundred dollars to get me alone,â you jab as you pull him to you by the front of his Henley. âI think it's safe to say that I am.â
He smiles as you pull him down to you, crushing your lips to his. His hands trail down your back until they land where your thighs meet the curve of your ass cheeks. You release months worth of tension into the kiss, sweeping your tongue along the swell of his bottom lip before slipping it into his mouth the second that he parts his lips for you. He groans into the kiss, kneading the globes of your ass with his fingers. You can feel a prominent bulge through his jeans against your stomach.
Adrenaline begins to kick in when he pulls away, looking down at you with lust blown pupils. He sinks to the floor below you, kneeling in front of your cunt as he raises your dress around your waist and tugs your panties down your legs and over your boots. He slips them into his back pocket before hiking one of your legs across his shoulder.
You can already feel your juices leaking down your inner thighs before his mouth makes contact with you. When he does, you lean your head back against the glass behind you in pleasure.
He sucks your clit between his kiss-swollen lips with an obscene pop before running his tongue down your folds. He plunges his tongue inside you and you grind yourself against his face, chasing the release that you were seconds away from on the ferris wheel.
He moans at the taste of you and the vibration has your walls clenching around his tongue. You ride out your orgasm on his face, the neon red lights blurring and spinning around you.
Despite the fact that your legs feel like jelly, you pull him up to you as soon as you're able to form a coherent thought. You clumsily paw at the button of his pants and his zipper, and he shoves both his jeans and boxers down over his ass, just far enough to free his cock.
He places both of his hands just under your armpits and lifts you as you instinctively lock your legs around his hips.
The head of his cock nudges your wet folds, your juices coating his length before he nudges it inside you.
You feel full before he's even halfway in you. Your walls constrict around him and he digs his teeth into his bottom lip as he adjusts to the sensation of you.
âFuck, that's tight. You're perfect,â he grunts as he sheaths the rest of his length into you. You let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a gasp.
He has total control as he cradles you between his body and the cold, hard mirror behind you. He sets a harsh pace, his head ramming against your cervix at the sweetest angle from his position beneath you.
He manages to support you with the strength of only his vibranium arm as he brings his flesh hand between your bodies, once again massaging your clit in rapid circles as he fucks up into you.
You cum around his length in a shockingly short amount of time, digging your teeth into the flesh of his neck as he follows after you, filling you up with hot ropes of his cum.
You stay in the same position after you've both reached your climax, panting against one another in the claustrophobic feeling space.
âWe should probably go find our friends,â you say breathlessly with a kiss to the side of his face. âSam's probably getting sick of being a third wheel.â
He pulls out of you, his cum running down your thighs and ass cheeks. He gently lowers you back down to the ground as he begins to tuck himself back into his pants.
He laughs, cupping your face in his hands as he pulls your lips to his once again.
âIf he hates being a third wheel, just imagine how much he's going to hate being a fifth wheel.â
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes one-shot#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes imagine#the winter soldier#halloween fic#bucky barnes x fem reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fluff
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Breakfast Is Served || Stucky x Reader
Summary: Bucky decides to have you for breakfast. When Steve interrupts you, he asks him to join in and the both of them feast on you.Â
Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, Porn without plot (like there's literally no plot, just filth), dom!Bucky (trust me, itâs a warning), fingering, edging, oral sex (f & m receiving), penetrative sex, dirty talk, slight degradation/name calling (slut), cum play kinda, praise kink, overstimulation, threesome, fluff at the end. No real Stucky action, just them having their fun with the reader ;) (although Bucky kinda fucks them both in a wayđ)
English is not my first language
Word count: 7800
Notes: it's my first time writing both a threesome and a Stucky x Reader fic so I'm sorry if it sucks :(
Also this is a direct continuation of Let Me Help so READ PART 1 HERE
Bucky's hand traveled from your hip to your ass, squeezing your flesh over the thin fabric of your pajama pants before giving you a spank. It wasn't hard, just enough to awaken a tingling sensation on your skin, but you still let out a moan. It was more from surprise than pain, jumping in place as soon as his hand made contact with your backside. Your eyes darted down the hallway, checking to make sure Steve didn't emerge from the bathroom before pushing your hips back, making contact with Bucky's semi-hard cock.Â
It was wrong. You knew it was wrong. Steve and Bucky were your friends and you weren't supposed to play with them like that. Not only had you betrayed your agreement with Bucky, but you had dragged Steve into the middle of it all. You were a horrible person, a depraved whore, but you couldn't help but feel a desperate attraction to both of them and you were tired of hiding it. Screw your friendship! This was more fun anyway.
"Did you enjoy making him cum?" Bucky growled in your ear, planting a couple of wet kisses along your neck before pulling away only a few inches so he could remove your pants. You put up no resistance, letting him do whatever he wanted with you. "Of course you did, you dirty little slut. You're soaking through your panties."Â
Bucky's fingers stroked your pussy over the small cotton fabric covering you, paying special attention to your swollen bundle of nerves that was desperate for some friction. It felt wonderful, but it wasn't enough. You needed more, much more. Your pussy was aching for relief and a simple rubbing over your panties wasn't going to get you there.
"Bucky, please." You whimpered, grinding your hips against his hand in a desperate attempt to create more friction. Maybe if he was quick you could get the relief you so desperately craved before Steve interrupted you.Â
"What is it, doll? You wanna cum, is that it?" He sounded so condescending that you were sure if you were in any other situation you would have hit him for talking to you that way. But at that moment you were too desperate to pretend that his teasing tone didn't turn you on. "Are you that desperate that you don't even care if Steve walks in on us?"Â
"He won't if you're quick, Bucky, pleaseee." You begged him, feeling tears of frustration begin to form in your eyes. You were ready to cry if that's what he wanted, anything to feel his hands exploring your body as he brought you to that sweet relief.
"And what makes you think you deserve to cum?" You could hear the smile in his voice. He was enjoying torturing you, raising your hopes as he pushed your panties aside only to move his fingers up and down your wet folds avoiding the place where you needed him most.Â
"Only good girls get to cum and you've been a very, very bad girl." The rasp in his voice did nothing to ease the pressure in your stomach, it only added fuel to the fire burning inside you.
You wanted to cry, the frustration mixed with the excitement was starting to become too much. You needed relief and you needed it now, you were willing to do anything to get it. You opened your mouth to beg one more time, at this point you knew how much Bucky enjoyed it. However, the only thing that came out of your mouth was a moan of surprise as you felt Bucky's index and middle fingers suddenly thrust into your dripping hole.Â
Your velvety walls welcomed them gladly, your pussy crying out in pleasure as you finally got the attention you so desperately needed. When Bucky curved his fingers inside you, he reached that soft, spongy part inside you that made you see stars. You dropped onto the counter, eyes closed as you bit down on your arm to keep from moaning. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body, pure electricity traveling through your veins as your warm, wet walls clenched over Bucky's fingers, clinging desperately to them in an attempt to hold them in place until you got the relief you so desperately needed.
"Why didn't you tell me you liked Steve, doll?" Bucky's deep voice echoed behind you, the fingers of his free hand entwining in your hair and tugging the strands until he brought your ear close to his mouth. "The three of us could have had some fun... Oh you like the sound of that, don't you, doll? Of course you do, you naughty little slut."
"F-fuck, Bucky, please... I'm so close." You begged, feeling your orgasm approaching. Every word out of Bucky's mouth, every gasp or degrading nickname went straight to your center, his filthy mouth working together with his fingers to push you closer and closer to the edge.Â
"You wanna cum, baby? You wanna cum on my fingers?" You nodded fervently, mumbling incoherently as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten with each movement of his fingers. You were so close you could feel the force of your orgasm struggling to break free.
"Well, too bad."
And just like that, Bucky removed his fingers from inside you, leaving you unsatisfied and confused. You couldn't contain the frustrated whimper that escaped your lips, tears building up your eyes as your pussy tightened around nothing, missing Bucky's long fingers.
"Bucky, what the hell?" you tried not to scream so as not to alert Steve, but the annoyance was clear in your voice.Â
"I told you, doll, only good girls get to come." He kept eye contact with you as he brought his fingers to his mouth, savoring your taste on his skin as he moaned against his digits. You couldn't look away even though you wanted to, mesmerized by the sensual flick of his tongue. He gave you a cocky smile before returning to his place at the table, closing the newspaper that had been left forgotten there and folding it in two as if preparing to go about his morning routine.
"Bucky we don't have time for this. Steve is gonna come out of the shower any minute now."
"That didn't seem to matter to you two seconds ago." You let out a snort at the arrogance in his voice, shaking your head as you prepared to disappear into your room to take matters into your own hands. However, Bucky didn't let you get past him, closing his fingers around your arm to stop you. "I didn't say you could leave. I'm not done with you yet."Â
And just like that, he had you under his spell again.Â
You let him pull you closer to him, enjoying the way his hands roamed your body, caressing every inch of skin in their path. His playful fingers slipped underneath your pajama top, up your stomach until they reached your breasts. Your nipples reacted to his touch immediately, hardening under his palms. When he pinched them, you bit your lip to keep from letting out a moan.
You didn't question him when he removed your panties, you just reveled in the softness of his caresses as he moved the piece of fabric down your legs. Once they were on the floor you stepped out of them, letting Bucky settle you on the table in front of him with your legs spread and your pussy exposed to his hungry gaze. The blue in his eyes had darkened letting you know how desperate he was for you.Â
"I'm hungry, doll. You interrupted my breakfast and now you're not leaving this table until I'm satisfied." Bucky didn't give you time to react, he just dove right between your legs, lapping up your juices like a man starving.
Your hands flew to his hair, pressing his face against your center to make sure he didn't go anywhere this time. His tongue was very skilled and knew exactly what to do to make a mess of you. Granted, you were already very sensitive from all the edging, so you weren't going to last long anyway, but you knew full well that even if you weren't so desperate, Bucky was capable of taking you over the edge at record speed with his sinful tongue.Â
When he caught your clit between his lips and sucked you let out a loud moan. Your back was to the hallway, so you momentarily forgot about the possibility of Steve appearing there at any moment. The whole world around you ceased to exist as you felt your orgasm approaching for the second time.Â
Your thighs closed around Bucky's head, trapping him in place as your body began to shake with pleasure. It felt as if your orgasm was going to be too intense and for a moment you panicked. You tried to pull away from Bucky to catch your breath and give your body some time to prepare for what was to come, but he wouldn't let you. His hands closed over your hips, fingers digging into your flesh to hold you in place.Â
"Fuck, Bucky, I can't... 's too much." You mumbled incoherently, but he didn't stop. He showed you no mercy as he licked your pussy like it was the tastiest candy he'd ever tasted, taking what he wanted from you.Â
However, fate forced him to give you a break when Steve's horrified and embarrassed voice brought you back to the real world. The blond apologized awkwardly, unsure of how to react to such a situation. He had made the mistake of entering the room while drying his hair with a towel after his much-needed shower and didn't realize what was happening until it was too late.
"Don't be sorry, Steve. You're just on time for breakfast." Bucky spoke, emerging from between your legs to look at his friend. He moved his chair to the side, leaving a space at the table for him to sit down to feast with you as well. Steve froze in place, though he couldn't stop his eyes from traveling to your glistening pussy. It looked so pretty and inviting, tempting his self-control.
"Don't worry, she doesn't mind. Don't you, doll?" Steve felt his cock twitching in his pants as he looked up to see you. You looked completely wrecked, your hair disheveled and your eyes glassy. Your breathing was accelerated, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to come down from your high.
"Steve, please." You begged in a hoarse voice. "I need you, baby." You sounded pathetic, completely desperate, but it was enough to convince him. Steve approached you slowly, sitting down in the free chair next to Bucky. He was tense, you could see it in the stiffness of his shoulders, but the darkness in his eyes told you he wanted this as much as you did. He was just a little nervous.
"I don't know how- I never have-" He tried to explain his situation, but stopped himself both times. He knew you guys wouldn't judge him for his lack of experience, but he still felt silly admitting he had no idea how to eat a woman out.
"That's okay, pal. That's why I'm here." Bucky gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder before returning his attention to you. "Just watch and learn." He buried his face between your legs once more, leaning slightly to the side so Steve had a view of the way his tongue flicked over your clit.
You let out a loud moan as Bucky's lips made contact with your wet folds, pulling your head back as you let yourself be carried away by the pleasure. It was the most beautiful sight Steve had ever seen. You looked like an angel with the sunlight streaming through the window framing your figure, one that promised to make his darkest fantasies come true. The sounds escaping from your mouth were music to his ears, the pleas for more going straight to his cock. He couldn't wait to be the cause of your cries of pleasure, to have his name fall from your lips like a mantra as he pushed you over the edge.Â
"This little bundle of nerves right here is your best friend when you're trying to get a woman to come." Bucky's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, bringing him back to reality. He reluctantly took his eyes away from your expression of pure pleasure, concentrating on the valuable information his friend was providing. "Here, you try it... don't worry, I promise you she'll love it. Just start slow, don't put too much pressure."
Steve moved his trembling hand to your center, taking the time to caress the soft skin of your thighs before running a finger over your glistening folds. You were so wet that he had no difficulty at all, his digit sliding easily up to your clit. He then followed his friend's advice, drawing small circles over the bundle of nerves without applying too much pressure.
"F-fuck." He heard your breathy moan and lifted his gaze to watch you. Your eyes were closed, your teeth clenched over your lower lip as you tried to contain the involuntary twitching of your hips. You wanted to let Steve take his time exploring your body, to learn with you how to please a woman, but you were also desperate for relief.Â
"See? She likes that! Don't you, doll?"
"Y-yes, yes! Steve, please." You begged. His finger felt good, but you needed more. You wanted to feel more of him, to have him show you how much he wanted to make you cum.
"Oh, she's so close." Bucky let out a low chuckle. "She's desperate to cum. But she needs more, so why don't you settle down there in between her legs? I'll guide you through what she likes."Â
Steve was desperate to taste you, so as much as he felt the funny feeling of nerves in his stomach, he settled down between your legs. He couldn't resist the urge to kiss your thighs, slowly making his way to the place where you needed him most. He could smell your desire from there, see your pussy dripping with need as your anticipation grew.
"Start by licking a line up her slit, then focus your attention on her clit. Go slow." He heard Bucky instructing him and he followed his orders to the letter. Steve moaned as he felt the sweet taste of your arousal against his tongue, the vibrations adding to the pleasure he was giving you.Â
"She tastes good, doesn't she?" Bucky asked him, a knowing smile plastered on his lips.Â
"Fuck yes," Steve spoke against your pussy, his breath crashing against your sensitive clit and making you gasp. "It's the sweetest thing I've ever tasted."
"I know, right?" The brunet nodded, patting his friend's back lightly before pulling away a little to give him his space. There was something incredibly erotic about the way the two men talked about your taste like it was some nectar of the gods, it made you feel special in a way, desired. No man had ever eaten your pussy with such desperation before. "Try putting your tongue inside her, it's even better."
You didn't even have time to process Bucky's words before you felt Steve's tongue pushing its way into your tight hole. His nose was rubbing your clit in a delicious way and you had to fight your body not to move your hips against his face. You knew this was his first time doing something like this âeven if it didn't feel like itâ and you wanted to let him be in control, to work out what he felt comfortable doing. But when he moved his tongue inside you, your body twitched involuntarily, your nervous system responding automatically to the rush of pleasure coursing through you.
"Oh, fuck⌠just like that, baby⌠don't stop." You moaned desperately, voice laced with need as you buried your fingers in his hair to hold his head in place. "You're doing so good for me, Stevie... such a good job, m-making me feel so goo- fuck!" your praise only encouraged Steve more, giving him the confidence he needed to start experimenting with his techniques. His cock was painfully hard in his pants again, throbbing every time he earned a moan from you. But his pleasure didn't matter at that moment, all he wanted was to feel you cum on his tongue.Â
"Does that feel good, doll?" Bucky's deep voice echoed in your ears. "You like to feel Steve's tongue deep inside you?" you moaned back as Steve moved his tongue in a different way, reaching new places that made your vision blurry. "Of course you do, you slut. You love to get tongue fuck by him while I watch... you love being our little fuck doll, ready to please and take everything we give you."Â
Bucky's hands roamed your body, caressing your breasts over your pajama top. Your nipples stood hard under his fingers, a clear sign of how turned on you were. You felt like you were on fire, your head spinning with pleasure. The combination of Steve's sinful mouth and Bucky's dirty words were too much for your poor system and you were short-circuiting, reduced to a mess of incoherent moans as you felt your orgasm approaching for the third time. You didn't even realize Bucky had removed your shirt until you felt his lips closing over your left nipple, sucking on the little bundle until you let out a whimper of pleasure.
"She's getting close." Bucky warned Steve, talking to his friend as if you weren't in the room. It was incredibly hot the way he could tell you were close to cumming without you having to tell him. He knew you that well. "Put a finger inside her, you're gonna want to feel her clenching around it as she cums, trust me."
"Fuck, right there, Steve, please." You moaned as you felt his finger pressing against that spongy place deep inside you. You dropped onto Bucky, hiding your face in his shoulder as you felt your orgasm approaching. The knot in your stomach tightened with each flick of Steve's tongue over your abused bundle of nerves, a warm sensation spreading through your abdomen as your legs began to tremble.
"You're gonna be a good girl and cum for us, doll?" Bucky encouraged, murmuring in your ear as he pinched your nipples between his fingers, adding a slight sensation of pain that mingled with pleasure in a delicious way. "You're gonna be a good girl and cum all over Stevie's face? Look at him, he wants it so bad, baby. He's desperate to feel you cum."
As if he sought to add veracity to Bucky's words, Steve moaned against your pussy, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. He felt your warm walls closing around his finger, burying it deep inside you as your hips moved against his face, fucking yourself into him. You were so tight and warm that he couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to be inside you, to feel your velvety walls tightening around his member as you came, milking his cock until there wasn't a drop of cum left in him.
"Suck her clit into your mouth, hard." Bucky instructed and Steve obeyed, closing his lips over the bundle of nerves and sucking hard. Your hips lifted off the table and Bucky had to press his arm against your lower belly to hold you in place. That added a new sensation, a pressure that threatened to push you over the edge.Â
"C'mon, doll, cum for us. We want to hear you. We want to see you come undone for us, c'mon." And as if Bucky's words were a command, your body immediately complied. The moan that escaped your lips was a sound neither Steve nor Bucky would ever forget, traveling straight to their cocks as they pushed you over the edge.Â
Your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body as you cried out. Your trembling legs closed around Steve's head, holding him in place. Not that he was complaining, he was more than happy to stay between your legs, licking everything you had to offer him. Your essence was his new favorite drug, the only thing he wanted to savor for the rest of his life. However, he was forced to pull away from you as you began to cry from the overstimulation, your body unsure of what to do as it felt both so good and so overwhelmed at the same time.Â
You could hear Bucky's voice in the distance, praising you for behaving so well, but you were too far gone to be able to process exactly what he was saying. Your mind was spinning, eyes slightly out of focus. All you could do was feel. Feel the electricity coursing through your veins. Feel Steve's hands caressing your legs as he watched you in complete awe of your beauty. Feel Bucky's warm breath against your neck as he spoke, his lips brushing your skin with every word that came from his lips. It was the hardest you had ever come in your life, neither your body nor your mind seemed prepared to withstand such pleasure.
âAre you there, doll?â You only managed to weakly nod your head, doubting your ability to form coherent sentences at that moment. "Good, cause we're not done with you yet." Your eyes opened wide at his words, not knowing how to feel about it. You were tired, destroyed by the force of your orgasm, but at the same time the possibility of feeling Bucky and Steve's hands on your body again were too tempting to pass up.Â
"You think you can handle it?" You nodded again, looking up at Bucky with sparkling eyes. "Use your words like a big girl."
"Yes, I can handle it, please." You assured him in a raspy voice, sitting up straight on the table, posture erect and gaze expectant as a way of showing Bucky that you were a good girl who knew how to behave.
"Always so eager to please, my good girl." He smiled, planting a soft, sensual kiss on your lips. You kissed him back with fervent enthusiasm, burying your fingers in his hair to draw him even closer to you. When you moaned against his lips he picked up the pace, his tongue entering your mouth and engaging with yours in a sinful dance that took your breath away.Â
You lost yourself in the moment, the world around you disappearing as you surrendered under Bucky's dominance. He was a damn good kisser and knew exactly what to do to leave you dazed when he broke away. He always had to hold back a proud smile when he saw the effects of his lips on your face, your half-closed eyes slightly unfocused with no thought behind them, only desire. And that time was no exception.Â
You whimpered when his lips parted from yours, immediately seeking contact again. But he stopped you, giving you a firm look that told you to stay in place. "Don't be rude, doll." He said, shaking his head. "Show poor Stevie some love too. We don't want him to feel left out."
Remembering that you weren't alone there, your gaze fell on Steve. He looked like a mess, tangled hair, cheeks slightly flushed and puffy lips still glistening with your release. His appearance contrasted with the innocence in his eyes in a delightful way. It awakened something in you, a fire deep within you that urged you toward him. So you answered your body's needs, pulling Steve to you and pressing your lips to his.
You didn't have to fight him to gain dominance, he willingly surrendered to you the moment your tongue caressed his lips. You could taste yourself in him, the sweet evidence of your release still present in his mouth. That only fueled you more, wanting to repay him for making you feel so good. Your hands roamed over his body, caressing his chest, down his flat abdomen to the bulge in his pants.
Steve moaned against your lips as he felt your palm press against his erection, cock throbbing in his pants desperate for relief. He had cum about 20 minutes before, but it didn't really feel like it. He was just as desperate âif not more soâ for your attention as he had been in the morning. He needed you more than he'd ever needed anyone. You were the only one who could make him feel that way. You owned him body and soul.Â
There was nothing he could do to stop his body from reacting to your touch - and he didn't want to anyway. All he could do was relax under your touch and trust you to bring him back to that sweet abyss of pleasure. When your hand went inside his underwear he let out a pathetic moan. He didn't care about being right in front of Bucky âhell, part of him liked that he was thereâ, he didn't even care about showing how needy he was. All he cared about was feeling you close to him, feeling your hands on his body as you brought him to the edge.Â
"Aw, poor Stevie needs some release." Bucky teased, a playful smile plastered on his lips. "You wanna give it to him, don't you, doll? You wanna make him feel good?"
"Yes! I want to make you both feel good." You turned your gaze away from Steve to focus on Bucky for a moment, though your hand remained buried in his pants.
"Of course you do. You're such a good girl for us." Bucky kissed you once more and you felt Steve's cock twitch beneath your hand as he watched the two of you. "Ready for your breakfast, doll?"
Bucky carried you in his arms to the couch, declaring that it would be better if you settled somewhere more comfortable for what he had in mind. He had Steve sit on one end of the couch, placing you next to him as he took a moment to remove his pajama top.Â
"Well, go on doll, eat your breakfast." He said as you looked at him expectantly, waiting for his permission or some sort of instruction. Bucky gently caressed your cheek before turning your face to Steve. He was looking at you with big, dark eyes full of pleasure, his dick throbbing as he understood the implications behind his friend's words.
You didn't waste a second, your hands traveling quickly to Steve's pants to free his member from its confinement. Your eyes met his one last time, a silent question written in them. He nodded, giving you the consent you needed to continue.
Your tongue pressed against the vein that ran along the underside of his shaft as you licked a long line from the base of his cock to the tip. Your tongue trailed up his skin in an almost torturous manner, giving him a small taste of what was to come without actually giving it to him. His eyes never left yours, deep blue orbs staring intently at you as you teased him. You were having your fun, taking your time to find out what things made Steve react. He knew it and enjoyed it too. He was desperate for relief, yes, and there was nothing he wanted more than to feel your lips wrap around his cock, but he enjoyed the tension in the air, the extra attention you were putting on him. It made him feel special in a way. So he let you have your fun, holding back the urge to thrust his hips upward as your tongue circled around his flushed, swollen tip.
"I knew you'd taste fucking delicious, baby." You moaned against his cock, reveling in the salty taste of his pre cum. "I need more." Steve didn't have time to even process your words before he felt your lips closing over the tip of his cock, sucking it into your mouth. The moan that escaped his lips was pathetic, but he was too lost in pleasure to care. He had never felt anything like that before. It was almost overwhelming. Just the image of his cock slowly disappearing inside your mouth was enough to drive him over the edge, his balls tightening with the threat of release.
"She's really good at that, isn't she?" Steve heard Bucky's voice in the distance, making him remember you weren't alone.
"Y-yeah, f-fuck, so good." He managed to mumble between ragged breaths, fists clenching on the material of the couch until his knuckles turned white.
You felt like a goddess being praised by both men, pure pleasure coursing through your body even when neither of them were touching you. All it took was their lustful glances and desperate comments to ignite the fire in your stomach once again.Â
For a moment you forgot your own satisfaction, ignoring your throbbing pussy in order to concentrate on pleasuring Steve. It wasn't as if you weren't enjoying it, you loved feeling the weight of his cock on your tongue and hearing the moans of pleasure escaping his lips. It was more than enough to keep you on the edge, though not enough to push you beyond it. But you didn't care, all you wanted was to give him the relief he needed, to hear him moan your name as he emptied his load into your mouth, painting the back of your throat white. Showing Steve pleasures he didn't know about, being the first woman in his life to touch him like that and make him feel so good was pleasurable enough for you.
At least, until you felt Bucky's hands gripping your hips. He settled you on the couch without any trouble, manhandling you as if you weighed nothing until your face was pushed against Steve's dick and your ass was up in the air. He positioned himself behind you, caressing the soft skin of your ass before giving you a hard spank that took you by surprise. You flinched, letting out a moan that vibrated around Steve's dick in your mouth. You heard him curse under his breath, throwing his head back as he tightened his grip on the couch cushions. Bucky chuckled under his breath, repeating the action a couple of times, no doubt in an effort to push Steve over the edge.Â
When Bucky pressed his member against your wet pussy, you knew he was teasing you too. He slid his shaft up and down your folds, intentionally missing the spot where you needed it most. You tried to push yourself against him, silently telling him you were ready to take whatever he wanted to give you, but his firm grip on your hips prevented you from doing so.
"What is it, doll? You seem desperate." Bucky teased, enjoying the whimpers that escaped your lips, muffled by Steve's cock that kept you from communicating properly. "You want me to fuck you, is that it? You want me to fuck you while you have Steve's dick buried deep down in your throat, huh?"Â
The desperate moan you let out was all the confirmation Bucky needed. As much fun as it was to be in control, playing with you and by extension Steve, he was getting impatient. His hard cock was throbbing with need, tip red and swollen as drops of pre cum leaked from the slit. So he buried himself inside you giving you almost no warning, pushing you against Steve's cock with the force of his thrust. You gagged around him, eyes rolling into the back of your head as a rush of electricity spread throughout your body.
Bucky lost himself in you for a moment, relishing in the way your warm, wet walls closed around his member. He held still for a moment, giving you a chance to adjust to his member, before he began to move his hips against yours in a torturous rhythm. There was no time for gentleness, to take his time with you and slowly bring you âand himâ to the edge. There was a sense of urgency in the air, of desperation, that enveloped the three of you as you worked together to get some relief.
Each thrust of Bucky's hips pushed you further onto Steve's member, your uncontrollable moans vibrating around him adding to the pleasure he felt. As your hands began to toy with his balls, his abdomen tensed, feeling his orgasm getting closer and closer. He didn't want to cum yet, he didn't want the moment to end. He wanted to enjoy the warmth of your mouth on him for a while longer, so he fought to contain the pleasure he was feeling. It wasn't an easy task, not when Bucky seemed to be making you feel so good with every little movement. He had to fight his body not to push his hips up since he didn't want to hurt you, squeezing the couch cushions tightly as a way to keep himself grounded.
"You can grab her hair, Stevie, she doesn't mind." Bucky's voice echoing in his ears made him open his eyes. Though it was a mistake because seeing the state you were in âeyes watery, pupils dilated, lips swollen around his cockâ did nothing but tighten the knot in his stomach, bringing him closer to the breaking point. "She likes it. You can use it to guide her movements, like this."Â
Bucky grabbed your hair in a fist, his fingers burying themselves in the messy locks to get a firm grip on your head. When he pulled you back hard, you couldn't help but let out a whimper of mixed pain and pleasure. He pushed you away from Steve until only the tip of his cock remained buried in your mouth, ordering you to suck on it before slowly lowering your head back down to him. For the next few moments, Bucky controlled the rhythm and the way you pleasured Steve, making you bob your head up and down his dick at a tortuous peace, effectively fucking him with your mouth.Â
His assault on you never ceased, his hips moving slowly and sensually against yours as he used you for his and Steve's pleasure. He enjoyed the control, how powerful it made him feel to have you both moaning desperately because of him. Seeing Steve's face as he tried not to cum and feeling the way your velvety walls closed around his cock was an explosive combination. A sinful image that brought him closer and closer to his orgasm. So, to try to bring you closer to your limit as well, he pushed your head down, forcing you to take Steve's cock down your throat. He held you in that position for a few seconds, enjoying the pathetic whimpers that involuntarily escaped Steve's lips.Â
When you gagged, Bucky lifted your head up and away from Steve's dick to give you a chance to breathe. He pulled you closer to him using the firm grip he had on your hair, pressing his torso against your back as he tilted your head so he could get a better look at you. You were a mess of tears and saliva, your swollen lips slightly parted as you struggled to breathe.
âShe loves being used, donât you, doll?â Bucky said, placing a kiss on your cheek. It was a tender touch that contrasted with what he was saying, a way of rewarding you for your good behavior. "Tell Stevie how much you like to be used, baby. Tell him it's okay if he fucks your throat or pulls your hair." He tilted your head so you could look at Steve, never loosening his grip on your hair.
"I-I love being used... I want you to use me for your pleasure, baby." You managed to say between accelerated breaths, feeling your walls tighten around Bucky's cock with every word that escaped your lips. "I want to feel your cock down my throat as you come undone for me, baby, please."
Steve almost choked on his own saliva as he swallowed, unable to believe that what was happening was real and not part of one of his deepest fantasies. It didn't seem real to him to have you naked in front of him, tears in your eyes and lips swollen as you begged for his cock. It was too much for him, he was convinced that his poor heart wouldn't be able to hold out much longer âin fact, he was surprised that he hadn't already had an asthma attack from his labored breathing. But still, he needed to feel your throat closing around his cock even if that was the last thing he did. He needed release and you were the only one who could give it to him.
When Bucky pulled you into him again, Steve reached out to cup your face. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the gentleness of his caress, a nice contrast to the roughness and intensity of the moment. Slowly, his hand slid upward, losing itself in your messy locks. He gathered your hair in his fist in a gentle grip, slowly easing himself into this new and unfamiliar territory. You gave him a small smile, a way of reassuring him that you were okay with it to try to calm his nerves. That seemed to help, because you felt him tighten his grip on your hair before guiding your mouth to his member again.
You let him take control, his hands guiding the movement of your mouth as you felt Bucky increase the pace of his thrusts. All three of you were close to the edge, you could tell by the desperate way your bodies were moving, but none of you wanted the moment to end. You wanted to live forever in that beautiful bliss, wrapped in each other's warmth as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your bodies. However, you were determined to make Steve cum before you did. You needed to feel his cock throbbing in your mouth as he emptied his load down your throat, fingers clutching at your hair to hold you in place. You needed to hear him moan your name in desperation as you drove him to the edge of pleasure.
âOh f-fuck, I'm s-so close." Steve tried to warn you between shaky breaths. You moaned around him, using every trick you knew to push him over the edge. His grip on your hair tightened, pain mixing with pleasure as you felt Bucky's fingers toy with your clit seeking to bring you to the same state of desperation as Steve.Â
You felt his cock throbbing in your mouth, his balls tensing in your hands as you gently played with them. He was so close to cumming that you could almost feel his load on your tongue, so you pushed him a little further, taking all of him until his cock reached your throat. The sensation was too much for poor Steve, your wet, tight hole closing around him in a delicious way. He couldn't fight his body any longer so he let himself go, pressing you down on his cock as he emptied his load down your throat with a loud moan of your name.
"Oh fuck, she loves that." Steve heard Bucky moaning in the distance, too lost in the pleasure coursing through his body to reply. "She's squeezing me so tight, fuck... You love having Stevie's dick buried down your throat, don't you? You love the taste of his cum in your tongue, you cock hungry slut."
The whimper you let out was pathetic and went straight to Bucky's cock. "Yes! I've wanted to taste it for so long." You admitted, looking straight into Steve's half-closed eyes. Fuck your friendship! "You taste so good, baby... best breakfast I've ever had." And as if you wanted to show Steve how good he tasted, you kissed him allowing him to savor himself on your lips.Â
Bucky groaned behind your back, finding the scene in front of him incredibly erotic. It was as if you knew exactly what to do to push him over the edge. "That's it, such a good girl for us, doll." He praised you as he quickened the pace of his thrusts, feeling his orgasm approaching. "You take us both so well, like you were meant for it, f-fuck! You wanna be our good girl forever? Let us please you whenever you need? I promise, we'd take such good care of you, wouldn't we Steve?"
Bucky's mind was clouded with pleasure, but that didn't make his words any less true. It was a genuine offer he was making. He wanted to have you with him forever, he wanted Steve to have you forever, and you to have both of them. It was pretty obvious that that was what you were meant to be, it was the only explanation for the way you felt, for the way you connected on such a special level. You weren't just friends, you never had been and he was tired of pretending.
"Yes! Yes we would." Steve rushed to say, not needing much time to think about his answer. The three of you together just felt natural, it had been that way all your lives and it had to stay that way until the end of your days. "Please, sweetheart, be ours."
You couldn't have refused an offer like that even if you wanted to, not when Steve was looking at you with puppy dog eyes and cheeks slightly flushed red, not when Bucky was spreading kisses on your back in such a tender way while he waited for an answer. But the thing was, you didn't need to give one, they knew you were theirs. You knew you were theirs. That had been the case from day one, long before you and Bucky started fucking.
"I'm yours, always have been, always will be." You admitted with a smile, feeling your chest filling with a warm sensation as Steve joined your lips in a kiss. It was sweet and tender, contrasting with the force of Bucky's thrusts.
"Oh that's it, my good girl... I'm gonna mark you with my cum... f-fuck... claim you as mine as I fill your tight pussy with my cum, just like Steve did your that pretty mouth of yours... you ready, baby? Are you ready to feel my cum buried deep inside your cunt?"
"Yes! Bucky, please. I need you to fill me up, please, mark me as yours... I need to feel you, baby, pleaseee." You didn't care anymore about how pathetic or needy you sounded, you were too far gone to do that. All you wanted was to feel that sweet relief coursing through your body.
"Then cum for me, doll. Let us see you come undone for us one more time and I'll give it to you, c'mon!" Bucky didn't have to do much more to push you over the edge, your body responding to his commands as if he were in charge. A couple of quick thrusts, the rubbing of his fingers against your clit, and you were cumming on his cock with a choked cry.
The intensity of your orgasm took you by surprise, your whole body twitching as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your nervous system. Your body gave out and you fell on top of Steve, hiding your face in his neck as Bucky fucked you through your orgasm in pursuit of his own. Steve held you against him, supporting you and stroking your hair as you struggled for breath. He whispered sweet nothings in your ear, but you weren't able to respond since your mind was too overwhelmed with pleasure. You appreciated it though, it helped keep you grounded as you felt a new pressure forming in your stomach.
The pleasure never ceased, it only increased with each thrust of Bucky's hips. It was almost painful, your body squirming from the overstimulation. But at the same time it felt so good that you let Bucky hold you in place, digging his fingers into the skin of your hips as he chased his own orgasm.
"F-fuuckk, Bucky, I can't... 's too much, please." You mumbled incoherently against Steve's chest, but your whines were interrupted by a long moan that announced another orgasm. The spasms of your poor abused pussy pushed Bucky over the edge, triggering his own orgasm just seconds after yours. You felt his cock throbbing inside you as he emptied his load, rope after rope of cum painting your velvety walls white.Â
You whimpered as he pulled out of you, feeling empty without his cock buried deep inside you. Yet he was back beside you in an instant, sitting on the couch and settling you on his lap. You could feel your juices mixing with his and running down your legs as your over-sensitive pussy still twitched with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Your muscles ached and you felt tired, but still a satisfied smile formed on your face.
"It's okay, we got you, we got you." Bucky murmured against your hair as he pulled you tight against his body. "You did soo good for us, doll... such a good girl." Your heart fluttered at his words, the tone of his voice much softer and more tender than he had used to call you that so far.Â
You let the warmth of Bucky's body soothe your overwhelmed senses, matching your breathing to his as you slowly came down from your high. When you finally opened your eyes, you met the adoring gaze of Steve first, who was sitting next to Bucky with your legs stretched across his lap. His fingers traced invisible patterns on your skin, his way of helping to soothe you and keep himself grounded at the same time. He looked adorable with his big puppy dog eyes looking at you as if you were the only important thing in the room, patiently waiting for you to come around.
When you looked up you found Bucky watching you in a similar way, blue eyes full of love as he held you against his chest. It made you feel incredibly special, loved. Butterflies awoke in your stomach, fluttering around as you realized that this was the place you always wanted to be. You belonged with them, Steve and Bucky were your home.
You reached out a hand to cup Bucky's cheek, thumb caressing the soft skin of his face as your other hand intertwined with Steve's. "I love you guys." You simply said, your voice soft and tired, but sincere.Â
They shared a quick glance before Steve said, "We love you too, sweetheart."
Tags: @pono-pura-vida @itdobe-foggy
Thank you so much for your support! It means a lot, especially in a fic like this one where I don't feel that confident with my smut writing skills
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x fem reader#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x fem reader#stucky x reader#stucky x reader smut#bucky barnes smut#steve rogers smut#bucky barnes x reader smut#steve rogers x reader smut#bucky barnes#steve rogers
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Regular Cream and Sugar
prompt: ( requested ) being cast as the opposite lead to your bane in the next hottest romcom blockbuster comes with unforeseen outcums.
pairing: actor!Bucky Barnes x female!actress!reader
fandom masterlist: Marvel
word count: 8.3k+
note: you know what? this is fire. i don't care for other opinions (a lie, i absolutely do).
warnings: poor references to different real shows / movies / media as pertains to acting for a living. imagination required. explicit language, angst, Lord's name in vain, hurt and comfort, dickhead behavior / depiction of verbal aggression, explicit content, NSFW, barely edited, enemies to lovers, happy ending, feelings are hard, depiction of mental health: anxiety, anxiety attacks.
featured fic movie: Anyone But You (2023) -> watch on Netflix featured fic show: Once Upon A Time (2011) -> watch on Disney+
Lights from what felt like a thousand paparazzi cameras flashed in a blinding mirage, a hundred different voices all shouting your name - begging you look this way, that way, to give a smile; show the back of your dress, now the front; to smolder, pout, wink for them. You were mostly immune to the wave of attention, but it still jostled you, even scared you sometimes; posed as more of a looming threat than anything. Yet this was the life you chose, the media you 'invited' no matter how public you were or not online and in person.
Didn't make it any less easy.
You sighed and smiled prettily for the flashing cameras on the sentimental red carpet, feeling a hand glide around your waist; leaning into the affection despite the instant nausea the appendage caused.
"James," you greeted your costar stiffly.
"Oh, back to James, are we?" He chuckled, hand splayed warmly through the material of your designer dress. "C'mon, honey, I thought we were past all that hostility?" He pointed at a group of cameras, both perfectly peacocked for them; his hand lowering to his suit pants pocket.
You cooed sweetly, "Why would you think that?"
"Just thought we were getting along pretty well, is all."
You sighed and pulled away from him, but let your hand drop into his metal prothetic to guide him along the carpet; dodging people still milling around. The two of you took new poses on the carpet markers.
"Oh, please," you smiled brightly, "that's just good acting. Don't worry, you'll recognize it one day."
Bucky chuckled, "Ooooh, someone's a bit icy today. C'mon, toots, what's got your panties in a twist? You can tell me - "
"Can we just get through the next few hours without mentioning or thinking about my panties, you horndog?" You asked him through clenched teeth, still smiling as if sharing a few inside jokes.
Bucky laughed to himself, "After you, doll."
You sighed and took his offered arm, letting Bucky lead the way up to the designated area your managers were pointing you towards. Bucky charismatically greeted the interviewer, an obvious pompous show to mask the anxiety coursing through his veins. You saddled up to where your team was stationed before the platform, kissing your publicist, Regina, on the cheek in greeting while asking, "You seriously had to fucking match us?"
"It's a good PR look, babe, and blue's both your colors. Just keep smiling," she hushed, offering her hand to help you up the two-step platform. Bucky was instantly doing the same, reaching for his hand as you smiled at the camera set up - reminding yourself it was all for the pursuit of good PR.
"Wow, you two look stunning!" The interviewer squealed slightly, gesturing at the two of you standing with your manicured hand curled around Bucky's meaty bicep. "I love a good matching set, and you two look so gorgeous - very chic, very demure!"
"You think this look is demure?" Bucky teased, picking the lapel of his blazer. "You see these diamonds?"
"Swarovski is pretty loud, draws the eye in," you purred, keeping the conversation going, desperate to step away and watch the premier of the bloody film already so you could leave the event all together. Your diamond-ringed fingers pet your neck and collarbones, bringing to attention the expensive gemstones set in a fashionable web.
"Oh, they look stunning on you!" The woman from E! complimented. "So, obviously - we have the whole matching look down pat. Is this look an homage to the film? Your characters?"
"No, no, just what was thought we looked best in, you know?" Bucky smirked, wrapping his arm around your waist and by far enjoying the forced proximity. "But you've kinda got a whole, you know," he motioned at her all black look, "monochrome look goin' for yah - it's nice! I dig it!"
"Oh, wow, th-thank you," she flushed under his baby blues that your matching fits made pop with an unbearable glimmer. "It's vintage Chanel."
"Totally gorgeous," you complimented, starting to feel the first tendrils of discomfort. "Who're we wearing?" You asked Bucky, "Do you know?"
"I'm pretty sure we're both in Louis," Bucky glanced down at himself before opening his suit to check the label. "I know the shoes are."
You smiled at the interviewer as she continued, "So, I've gotta say, I'm crazy excited for this film, it's the hottest thing anyone can talk about!" You and Bucky offered generic murmurs of thanks, her continuing, "It's all over social medias, there's even some fan edits already out using what they could from the trailers! Fans are really digging the modern-Shakespeare take and the chemistry between the cast. I wanna ask, being the two leads playing into this romantic relationship, how has the whole experience been for the two of you? You haven't worked together, since, what? Some ten years ago or so? When the two of you costarred in Once Upon A Time, right?"
You cleared your throat, "Woah, what a throwback."
"I know," Bucky mused, looking down at you. "We played a couple on that one, too, right?"
You nodded, trying to beat off the brewing chaos in your stomach by answering, "Yeah, however short lived."
"Which, can I say, always confused me - why your character was killed off!" She directed at you. "I loved Alice!"
Clearing your throat awkwardly, you explained, "Oh, I know, I remember reading all these comments after that episode aired, just about how upset fans were. I mean, it was a really quirky take on Alice in Wonderland - so it was kinda jarring to kill off Alice, right? But it was a creative decision I was really excited to undertake, it was my first reoccurring role in a show, first time I got to play a parent, and it was my first big, dramatic death scene."
"Yeah?"
You nodded, "I remember talking with the writers and asking them if we could do it big. They were very okay with it. I honestly miss that show - the cast and crew, everyone was just a pleasure to work with. I'd love to do it again."
In truth, your character, Alice, the lost lover of Bucky's Mad Hatter, was written off the show after a particularly nasty argument with Bucky had you ready to quit and walk off set that very moment. This was a common enough theme: arguments on set between you and Buck, a stark opposite to your scenes together on camera. You're not even sure how it started, just that you and Bucky could never get along after the chemistry read. He was pompous and arrogant and borderline narcissistic; all characteristics that rubbed you the wrong way, hence the inability to get along. So, after brief deliberation and considering you were the one ready to move on, you were to be written off (first).
Of course, you couldn't admit to any of this - it was a horrible look to the public. Especially since it was Bucky you couldn't get along with for the sake of a job, who you now had to convince the world that you didn't despise for the sake of this movie.
"Well," Bucky looked back at the interviewer with a smile, "never say never, we had some good times - "
"On the set of the show or movie?" She asked eagerly. You felt like you could practically smell your companion's desire to change the subject. Neither of you were keen on talking about your time on the show together, not after all the conflict and turmoil that boiled over into today's circumstances.
"Oh, for sure both," Bucky nodded, "but we got to film this movie in LA first for about a month. Then we spent three months in Australia for this movie and it was - yeah, no, it was a lot of fun. The location definitely helped romanticize things. Lot of laughs shared, good memories, fond friendships; lot of really great food, Down Under, too."
You gave a fake chuckle, stomach lurching as your mind screamed that he was lying. Filming this movie wasn't really fun by any circumstance; not when you and Buck couldn't be in a room together without some comment being hurled with malicious intent. Bucky was lying - you knew it, the pretty girl in all black knew it; surely, fans on the internet would know it the moment they saw this interview - or at least, your face.
He was lying. He was lying. He was lying, and it fucking bothered you.
You weren't bothered by the act of lying, per se, but the fact that the pair of you had to lie; the fact that even after a decade, old wounds were still festering; the fact that you knew your feelings for him to be authentic while his were feigned, forced, being effortlessly lied about.
You glanced at Regina, seeing her talking with animation to Bucky's publicist, Gale, and his manager, Toby; as well as your own manager, Darcy, who appeared enraptured with their phone. In a moment, you felt the flood of panic, unable to meet Regina's usually kind eyes; suddenly scanning around the red carpet in distraction as your ears whined a piercing noise. The lights flashed brighter, you suddenly felt hot and clammy; like anxiety's icy hand was creeping up your esophagus, stomach to throat. Your heart hammered, headache brewed, eyes glassy from a sudden wave of panic - and unknowingly, tightened your grip on Bucky's waist. He glanced down at you in concern.
"Uh, but you know, I think my favorite part of the whole experience was just, uh, you know - getting to spend time with this girl right here," Bucky answered the interviewer's question charmingly, hugging you tighter to his side. You were jolted back into reality, smiling and awh'ing at him sweetly as if listening; evident he had purposefully roped you back in. Your heart clenched at his kindness.
"What about you, Y/N?" The interviewer asked with a bright smile. "Any favorite moments from filming?"
"Oh, um, favorite? No, there's too many - well," you paused, relenting, "yeah, probably any scene I got to do with Jeremy, who plays my ex in the film. He's not entirely who you'd think fits in a romcom, so he pleasantly surprises you in this role. He was a blast to film with, just real easy going."
"Woah, hey," Bucky joked, looking offended but still petting his fleshy hand on your waist for comfort, "how could I not be your favorite part of filming?"
"Jeremy actually learned my coffee order," you reminded with a soft wince, watching Buck pause and then nod dramatically.
"No, no, she's got me there - I could never get it right," Bucky shrugged at the interviewer. "One day, though, I'll surprise her," he squeezed where he held you, his metal finger pointing into the camera, "and that's a promise."
"Oh, please," you chuckled, patting his chest. "I'd like to first see you get my breakfast order right - then we can move onto the more complicated coffee order."
"Okay, first, that's slanderous!" Bucky laughed, shifting his weight on the platform and making the woman interviewer perk up.
"Well, it seems the two of you had a great time on set, and so far from previews, it really shows! I can't wait to see it."
"Have fun tonight," you smiled, Bucky shifting towards the steps and offering both his hands to guide you down. He thanked her repeatedly as you stepped carefully in your heels, approaching Regina and Darcy the moment you were on the carpet again. "I can't - I can't fucking do this," you muttered to them inconspicuously; unaware of Bucky several yards away, listening to his team talk, but his gaze was locked worriedly on you.
"What? What? Can't do what?" Darcy asked, looking mildly alarmed; only then lowering their dinging iPhone.
"It's a lot right now, okay? I'm - I feel - there's just a lot," you tried to explain, voice warbling.
"What? You're, what, feeling anxious? Use your words."
"Yes, Darcy, fucking yes, I feel fucking anxious," you snapped, sighing through your nose; hand tight on Regina's wrist. She readjusted so you were both gripping each other's forearms. "Okay? There's a lot of fucking people and the interviews? Jesus, we're lying straight through our teeth - "
"So, just lie!"
"Darcy," Regina scolded, "let her speak."
"You two know James and I don't exactly get along. So you'll excuse me if lying about how much fun we had playing two idiots in love is giving me the fucking heebie-jeebies."
"Babe," Regina frowned when tears gathered in your eyes, fully aware of your feelings for the amputee, "just breathe, it's okay - "
"You literally lie for your job," Darcy scoffed with a shake of their head. "I don't get why now, all of a sudden, it's bothering you? You and Hugh Grant literally didn't speak a single word to each other outside of scenes when filming for Bridget Jones! Y'all went on to say you were best buds on set! But this is where the truth is gonna trip you up?"
"Oh, my fucking God."
"Yeah, 'oh, my fucking God', is right," Darcy sneered. "I need you to do at least three more interviews - then you can fuck off for all I care."
"There a reason you took extra bitchy pills this morning?" Regina scoffed, looking Darcy up and down with distain.
"No, fuck that, she's been difficult this entire film - "
"Oh, for the love of Christ, Darcy," Regina snarled, "she's not been difficult - she's human. Just because you're an emotionless cunt doesn't mean you get to shame and bully your client."
"Doubt I'm even their client after this," your head shook, finally locating a distant entrance. "Excuse me," you stepped around them and made an immediate beeline for the theater.
You heard shouts of your name, but didn't stop - instead, quickening your step to reach the theater sooner. The door was held open for you, letting you pass swiftly; ignoring the bewildered looks of employees and premier attendants as you hustled down the hall to the gender neutral restroom.
Shoving the door open, you gasped while stumbling onto the linoleum floors in towering heels and swirls of blue fabric feeling tangled around your legs. Your hands blindly and forcefully slapped to the marble countertop of the sink, holding your weight in either hand, pressure caught in your collarbones, trying to regulate your breath from the irregular pattern it developed during your hustle.
"Oh, this is - this is so stupid!" You scolded yourself, huffing and sniffling. "C'mon, girl... You're fine, this is nothing, you can handle it, you're not no bitch. Get your shit together, God, you're seriously this upset over a guy? Fuck's sake... Why?" You asked yourself in the mirror with a glare. "Huh? Why? Why're you so upset? Why're you so hung up on him? It's not like he-he-he lead you on! He's been clear from the beginning! And the sex wasn't even all that good!" But the deadpanned expression that stared back at you made you sigh and roll your eyes, "Yeah, okay, so it was mind blowing, whatever - point is, it's not worth getting this upset over."
You had to pause to take a breath, shaking your head as you continued talking to yourself in a dejected whisper, "Okay, so... You caught feelings. Big deal. You've been rejected by guys before, why is this one so different? Why does this hurt so much more?" The quake to your voice matched the tremble of your bottom lip. So, you answered yourself as a barrage of memories shot to the front of your mind and physically assaulted your brain like a bunch of bullies in an alleyway, "Because it felt real..."
You were the first on set.
Today's punctuality wasn't just good ethics but a direct result of your anxiety. You weren't worried about being late, you wanted to get there early to suss out the set, get a lay of the land, establish exit routes - or any means of privacy - should you need it, as well as privately meet with the intimacy coordinator, Maria, before anyone else got to set.
The director was next to arrive as you finished hair and make-up, wrapped in a robe with a pair of slippers warming your feet; sat beside you to go over a few ideas and logistics of the scene. It was all about being this bright, active, explosive, fiery, hot, passionate, borderline hateful cultivation of your character and Bucky's feud; where after a fight scene, you storm off to your room and he follows, the pair of you giving into your feelings and finally sleeping together.
The camera crew and lighting techs showed up next, ensuring everything was in place and ready to use.
The entire production had been rearranged due to the animosity, tension, and turmoil between you and Bucky the entire filming schedule. After months of bickering and irritation, this was the last piece of the movie puzzle, only reshoots thereafter, if necessary. Which made today all or nothing, where if you did this right, you'd only have to do it once. The resort you were shooting at provided a gigantic, gorgeously picturesque suite; which, in itself, was a blessing as it meant limited personnel in the room with you. So, after getting ready in a neighboring suite, where you were zipped into the same dress your character wore to a dramatic dinner scene, and waiting on the set-suite for Bucky to finish his primping. The techs showed you where the mics were and how the cameras would be angled.
Typically, shooting could be pretty go-go-go, but tonight was supposed to be easy, unrushed. First, you filmed the original fight scene to warm up - where Bucky chases after you and instigates the intimate scene. However, when the sun was lowering into position to sink, the director decided he wanted a couple of shots with the setting sun behind you; his artistic vision something you were meant to follow and not question.
"You good, doll?" Bucky checked as costumes were fixed and you both took your places. The idea was to meet in the middle of the sun shining into the camera; silhouettes taking form as the light was meant to disappear behind you, then reappear when you and Bucky fell into bed behind you.
"Yeah, uh, all good. You?"
"Perfect," he smirked, glancing at the crew. "We're moving at the same time, right?"
"Yep."
"Oh, so, uh, I'm thinking when we go back to the intro scene, we kinda lead into the bedroom? You know? Like, you come in, I follow, but you try to walk away and it leads us naturally towards the bed. That way, when we get to fuckin', it's a little more natural than before."
You just huffed, "You just have a way with words, don't you?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, are you someone that prefers 'making love'?" He mocked with fluttering lashes.
"Fuck no, God, fucking gag me - that's such a cringy term," you scoffed quietly, looking towards the camera crew making their final readjustments.
Bucky eyed you for a moment, thinking those were his exact thoughts and feelings on the term, too. He sighed to himself as the director reminded, "This is just the kiss, then falling into bed - okay? - then we'll reset for the other bits. Yeah? Good? Everyone got it?"
"Good," Bucky agreed easily, you just nodding.
The director squinted to watch on his monitor as the sun hovered, calling action, and watching the two of you meet in frame from either side of the camera. You reached for each other and let your lips meet in an chaotic, highly-anticipated open-mouth kiss; his prosthetic arm curling around your waist as his fleshy one came up in view of the camera to slide from your jaw to the back of your head. Your hands fisted the front of his shirt in a show of desperation; one creeping up to hold his neck for balance as you felt his weight shift. You held on and gave a soft moan while toppling backwards onto the bed, out of frame; but held the position as Camera Two worked the angle from above. "And cut!"
When he pulled back, Bucky's eyes were alight with something you couldn't decipher; breathing the same air for several moments before he was sitting up and helping you do the same. You reset with dampening tear-away panties, tingling lips, and heavy lungs.
You did that kiss twice more to make the most of the sun's position before it was gone; using the authentic change of colors to curate a more romantic aesthetic. You and Bucky agreed the colors of the sunset was a much better look... So, you did the kiss another three times. When satisfied, the techs rest to film the whole of the scene, sending your heart catapulting from chest to throat. Bucky appeared easy, even excited, which for some unspoken reason, really irritated you.
How dare he enjoy this when he was usually an unbearable jackass that made your life more difficult for sport.
First, you were to storm into your room alone, a look of furious defeat marring your expression. Bucky's catches your door, follows you in to defend himself, "Hey! You don't get to insult my character and just walk away! What the hell's going on with you, why're you so upset? We had a deal, we agreed to act like we're together for the sake of this wedding. Now, you've been at my throat this whole time, you refuse to have a civil conversation unless in front of others - it's almost like you're repulsed by my very being here. I'm sorry if that's what's going on, but my best mate is marrying the love of his life this weekend and I'm going to stand at his side! You're going to have to find a way to be okay with that."
He stood in the foyer of your suite as you whipped around to snarl, "I'm okay with you being my brother-in-law's best man, I really am. I'm okay with us being at this wedding, I can fake getting along, being a couple, whatever, that's no problem. But I'm not the one who's been outright malicious! I'm not the one throwing thinly-veiled insults in front of your family!" You let tears fill your eyes, Bucky appearing genuinely disarmed as he took a step forward. Your character was notorious for being something akin to a shrew; but now, in this moment, proving to still be 'just a girl', who had feelings and would cry if she wanted to. "You know what? I wouldn't expect you to understand - so just - just get out of here, go back to dinner, there's nothing left to say - "
"You really piss me off, you know that?"
"Oh, my God! Did you seriously follow me back to my room to continue a fight I already walked away from?" You snarled, tossing your shoes from your feet. "Take a hint and go away. Please. You've done enough for the night."
"You know, you always do this. When shit gets real, you'd rather run away than deal with it!" He followed you closer to the living quarters of the suite, as planned.
"You don't get to say that when you don't even know me!"
"That's where you're wrong! I do know you!" Bucky barked, reaching for your arm to turn you around to face him; releasing his hold when you yanked your arm back with a brewing look of betrayal. "I know you're stubborn and insolent, defensive and reactive. I know you don't give second chances because one is enough, I know you're passionate and criminally independent, that you don't take direction too well because you have issue with authority." His voice softened an octave and the words felt all too real; like it was truly Bucky speaking, "I know you love your family and would do anything to protective them, including agreeing to be my date to this wedding just to give your sister peace of mind for her big day. I know that even when I think I've found a way to cope with admiring the hell out of a woman who despises me, I fuck up and say something I shouldn't. Which I also know, can rightfully set you off. I also know I had one of the best times on our date, before things imploded, and that I've finally met my match - if even just for this week."
"Think that means you know everything about me, then?" You breathed, locked onto his baby blues like a bear trap had hold of your soul.
"I only know one thing for certain."
"What?"
"That I really want to kiss you right now."
There was supposed to be no hesitation in your surge into his chest - so, there wasn't. Knowing you had this shot already and much was to be edited, you and Bucky rushed for one another; clashing in the middle; all teeth, tongue, and spit before toppling into bed. From there, it was a frenzy.
Clothes were ripped off - sending buttons and fabric all around the room. Mics picked up every single sound, no matter how soft or gruff. Soft linen sheets were rumpled and mused, pillows flattened. Hands slapped skin in the search for purchase, lips grazed sensitive flesh not regularly touched, hair stuck to tacky skin, and hips ground into one another like a couple of horny teens. Maria called encouragement, the two of you taking the cues to roll over so you were on top, but still in Bucky's cradle. Every position assumed, Bucky was all consuming; warm, safe, embracing, supportive, glorious.
It went on for several hours; the rutting and kissing and moaning and feigning. It was exactly what they wanted: bright, active, explosive, fiery, hot, passionate. Bucky's body was impressive and it was hard to ignore, causing your skin to flush with ecstasy, mouth to water, and fingers to linger. Your moans turned authentic. Sweat beaded from legit exertion. Everything felt magnified and doubled; legs spread to hold his bare hips against yours, breathing harsher when all you could focus on was the feel of Bucky's bulging cock rubbing into your soaking slit. You swore his own stuttered breathing and moans were as real as yours - but who could tell.
When the director called cut, Maria told you to stay put. You kept the sheet around your chest and dropped back to the pillows, Bucky sitting forward with the sheet around his lap in an attempt to give you both a little room.
"You all right?" He mumbled, shuffling over a little before leaning back himself. You tried not to notice how he didn't deflate, never relaxed; as if cautious to invade your space all of a sudden.
"Yeah, still good. You?"
"I'm good, doll," he smirked. "Kinda warm, no?"
"I'll say," you mumbled, swiping the moisture from your hairline, missing his grin - as if he had caught you in a confession. And perhaps he did, since the air conditioning was on and blasting like in most hotel suites; the pair of you heated from the obvious horniness you were flushed with.
The director wanted a few extra shots of you two in bed; naked, revealing tantalizing skin in provocative poses. You were to look soft, content, in love, docile and blissed; so, you gave it to them Goddamnit. You loathed to admit how easy it was to look at Bucky in such a manner; he was funny, making you grin and crack a few jokes in return, the camera eating it up. You spoke of past jobs and vacations while lounging against one another; discussed fears during a game of Thumb War; compared hand sizes and workout routines; then had more lighthearted familial conversations, such as holiday traditions, while you were balanced bare on top of his equally naked body.
From each position, you were encouraged to nuzzle the other; to kiss; share delicate touches that some how felt more intimate than filming any sex scene.
The director wanted two new camera angles of your intimacy after watching the playback; you and Bucky shuffling into new positions as the cameras were mounted. This provided ample view of your faces whilst rolling around in your romp; looking into one another's eyes as Bucky mimicked thrusting, your hands in his hair, of the concentrated expressions you were both to don. There were better shots of your tangled hands, of the way two individuals melded into one secular entity; of slippery lips forming varying levels and pitches of gasps, moans, and groans that the mics soaked up.
It all looked so real. It all felt so real.
For a moment, the director praised himself on his decision to hold off filming these intimate scenes until the end; watching an authentic cultivation of your real and faked hatred coming together on camera.
It was over with several hours to spare until dawn when few reshoots would begin filming, thankfully being mostly family scenes that didn't involve you and Bucky. If there were any, it was truly because it was necessary - the crew having been overly cautious about getting the scenes they needed the first time to spare everyone the annoyance of enduring another day on set with you and Bucky. The director and Maria watched the footage several times to make sure they had enough footage, granting approval that everything was in good shape and you were free to go.
While Bucky hesitated a moment, you accepted your robe from Maria and scurried to the neighboring suite you had dressed in. You were overwhelmed, confused, annoyed, and horny - so very horny that your immediate first action was to unlace your robe to use the lapels to fan yourself. You sought out the bathroom and grabbed several towels, yelping in shock when the front door slammed shut. Yanking the fluffy material closed, you called, "What is it, Maria? What do you need? What's wrong?"
"It's me," Bucky's voice answered, making your head pop out of the bathroom - only to rear back when Bucky was striding inward.
"Do they need us for something else?" You asked cautiously, holding your robe closed with tight hands.
"No. No, I just... Tell me to leave and I'll leave," he breathed, taking a slow step into your space, "but I really hope you don't because I can't stop thinking about you and tonight - tonight was exactly what I had thought would happen between us."
"Gave the writers your dream journal, did'jah?" You couldn't help but tease. His lips spread.
"More like my actual journal," he shot back, catching you off guard, "'cause I can't get you out of my head, it's fucking with me, doll."
"If you're here to charge me rent for living in your head, you've got another thing comin' 'cause that's a personal problem. Now I need a shower, why're you here, Bucky - what do you want? Use your big boy words."
"I want to fuck you."
"There it is," you seethed, reaching for his own robe to yank him closer until his lips were on yours. And his hands, they didn't know where to touch you - be it your face, arms, ribs, waist, hips, thighs, ass, he was everywhere. Bucky's cock was still hot and heavy against his stomach, snugly between you as he backed you into the counter. But you pushed him back upon feeling him trying to untie his robe, rushing, "Wait, wait, hang on a second, Buck - "
"Shit, I'm sorry," he immediately stepped back, now tugging the tie tighter, "I-I got a little, uh, y-you know..."
"It's okay," you assured, stepping into his chest, taking hold of his wrists in both hands, "hey, you're okay. I was just gonna say wait because I'm not fucking you here where anyone can interrupt us." Before he could answer, you offered, "Give me twenty minutes and meet back at my place?"
He nodded with a softer smirk, hands confidently holding your waist to keep you pressed against him. "Yeah, doll, 'course. I didn't mean to rush you."
"You didn't, Bucky, you aren't. It's okay."
Bucky smirked and kissed you sweetly, holding you by the waist with one hand, the smoothing over the back of your head. After letting you go, he watched you change into whatever you wore to set and grab your belongings, drop a wink, and head for the door. He couldn't help but call after you, "Twenty minutes, doll, I'm setting a timer!"
You laughed before the door shut.
One of the perks of filming at destination resorts was staying there, too. You took the first elevator to the lobby and dialed your best friend as you hustled towards your resident building. When they answered, you instantly unloaded instead of a standard greeting, "Bucky and I are about to fuck and I'm kinda freaking out!"
"Oh, thank fucking God, it's about time!"
"You can gloat later, help me now."
Twenty exact minutes passed in a flurry of reminders to use mouthwash now so it didn't taste like you were trying too hard, advice on what to wear (being just panties and a hotel robe), topped off with your best mate telling you their secrets to irresistible blowjobs. When Bucky knocked at the door, your friend screamed in a rush, "Good luck - have fun - put that emergency Plan B I packed for you to work - oh, oh, protect your cervix - and call me after - I want details! Remember to spit - "
You hung up and left your phone on the side table, scurrying for the door before you could overthink it; Bucky swooping in with the opening door, reaching his hands for both your cheeks to kiss you feverishly. He paused you to let the door slam and blindly set the bolt before crowding you into the wall. You never had time to let your anxiety set, Bucky was all you could comprehend - and my, oh, my - what a delicious infection to take over your mind, body, and soul.
Distracted by the tickle to your palms from dragging them down his cheeks, in shock, you gasped sharply into his mouth when his hands seized behind either thigh to hoist you up his body. You were able to bask in his strength, feeling his arms bulge from strain just as much as you felt his cock bulge from arousal in his jeans. Wet tongues slid against each other to dance a sinful tango as your hands seared into any flushed flesh you could grab, legs locked around his waist to keep balance as he walked to the bed. He playfully dropped you on the mattress, holding himself upright and eyeing the peak of material covering your cunt when your bent legs shifted. Bucky grinned and glanced down at himself, starting to work on the buttons of his shirt from top-to-bottom.
"You changed?" You smiled, sitting up to reach out and maneuver him to the bed so you could take over his state of undress.
"I thought I might take you out first," he admitted, "but then I remembered it's the middle of the night and nowhere's open."
Your heart might've thawed slightly at his endearing effort, yet choose not to comment. You revealed his abs and chest at long last, dipping down to press your mouth in a trail of wet and sloppy kisses from his neck, over his pectorals, and the ridges of his ripped stomach - relishing in the feeling of their contraction when your kisses turned more deliberate and sensual. Fingers nimbly began working on the button and zipper of his jeans, hearing his feet kick off his shoes in time for you to begin wrestling the garments down his hips.
Bucky sat up, crooning, "Hey, hey, hold on." This time, you froze, fearing you did something wrong, but his smile was soft and his hand warm on your jaw. He held you still to bring his lips to yours, controlling the tempo into something slow, easy, and delicately emotional. You matched his energy, just enjoying the feeling of kissing him without the added frenzy of the impending intimacy. He paused, lips hovering over yours, whispering, "As much as I need to fuck you, doll, we got time... I plan on taking my time with you."
It was sentimental. Raw. Pure. Unexpected and intimidating.
Fucking Bucky was nothing short of pornographic; the man built like a mountain, cut like a boulder, and hung like a horse, yet still so fluid that everything he did felt intimate and emotional. Like it was truly to the two of you finding home in the other; two lost pieces of a puzzle, reunited, fitting together to create an image of euphoria. He was dedicated to your comfort, insistent on your pleasure, adamant about your orgasms; able to take direction, but not needing it, motivated by evidence of your bodily pleasure; emboldened, driven, invigorated by any inkling of your enjoyment. It was all you wanted and exactly what you needed, encouraging the pair of you through multiple rounds, positions, and orgasms.
To your shock and astute pleasure, Bucky was the kind to engage in pillow talk. He laid on his back, hand behind his head, other idly toying with your hair or tracing patterns on your skin as he asked questions or answered yours. It was easy. It was simple. It was effortless and disarming. Arguably, it had been one of the best sessions of your life due to Bucky taking his time in discovering the way your body ticked instead of just chasing his own nut like plenty of other lovers. He seemed satisfied. Content. Even cozy in your bed. You thought you could grow accustomed the sight of his bare chest and stubbly smile from this angle, curled against his hairy leg with your mouth dangerously close access to his perpetually stiff member.
Like a fool, you thought this was a break through in your relationship - be it professional or personal, you didn't care. You just felt the tides shift, for the wind to change; something warming your heart and pleasantly churning your stomach. Dawn broke and you had dozed into a nap on your costar's chest; not due on set for your shoots until early afternoon, able to get a couple hours under your belt after not getting a wink all night. Bucky laid under you, soothingly letting his fingernails scratch into the slope of your spine, both content to just exist in your bubble for a while longer. However, when you awoke to your alarm, it was to an empty bed, chilly sheets, no note, no evidence another person had even been there.
You should've known better...
"Because it felt real," you trailed off in a broken whisper, laughing cruelly at yourself as a manicured finger lifted to swipe under your nose and remove the first traces of snot. "Because I thought it was real for him as it was me..." A scoff coughed from your lungs, "I thought we had a breakthrough of sorts, like-like-like an understanding. I thought he saw me, finally... But it was all a lie, wasn't it?" You sniffled, bending at the waist to rest your elbows on the counter and hold your face in hands.
Behind you, the door suddenly burst open, ricocheting into the wall - causing you to gasp shrilly and whip around in shock. Bucky stood there panting, looking bewildered and confused, soon wincing when he clocked your state of shock he caused. "Shit, sorry, sorry, doll, I was - I didn't mean - I-I-I was worried and thought something was wrong - "
"So, you came barging into the bathroom like a madman!?" You snapped, hand to your chest - clutching methaporicnhal pearls.
"Yeah, you know, not my best moment, but I was worried," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, I really didn't mean to frighten you, I was a little hopped up after talking to Regina - "
"Okay, okay, James! You know what? Just - for fuck's sake, please, please, can you just leave, leave me alone - can you please just go!? Get outta here, please. I'll be out in a minute, just leave me alone." You were trying too hard to stop this - to stop the way your heart fluttered and stomach sank, to stop your emotions from being real, to stop your mind from conjuring his all too perfect face at inopportune times - so, of course, the universe had to send the very bane of your existence after you during an anxiety attack.
You needed to be alone. You needed to be alone to cry it out. You needed to be alone to cry it out and breathe.
"No," Bucky answered sternly.
"'No'?"
"No. You're obviously not okay and I can't just leave knowing you're this upset. Look, hate me later, but I'm not leaving you alone right now."
Your head shook, a sardonic smile blooming brightly; giving a sort of disbelieving chuckle. "Seriously? Of all people? You? Fucking you? You don't even like me, so why're you really here, James? The fuck do you want?"
"All right, down girl, I come in peace," he couldn't help but snap; defensive that his act of valor was under such scrutiny.
"Yeah? If that's the truth, then remove yourself, please. You don't need to be here, interrupting my search for said peace."
"Why is it so hard to believe I'm here out of legitimate concern?"
"Because you don't think about anyone but yourself."
"Okay, ouch - "
"Just stop, please okay? I'm not tryna fight, James, I don't want to do this, all right?" You cried without letting any tears fall down your cheeks, beyond frazzled in that moment. "I don't want to do any of this, actually - this whole bloody premier, the interviews, all the pictures! People lying, people yelling!"
"Okay, okay, just take a breath, sweetheart, hey, hey." He took a cautious step towards you, "Why's tonight making you feel this way? Huh? What's going on? You've done premiers before, what's different about tonight?" He asked softly, seeing the tears surface again, how your hands couldn't stay still anymore. You began to pace in front of the sink; cracking, threading, unthreading, twiddling, and twirling your fingers.
"You! It's fucking you, James!"
"Bucky," he corrected stiffly with a sigh of disappointment, keeping himself still to watch you pace with words caught in your throat. He didn't push you, somewhat afraid of getting his head bitten off again.
"It's just you," you continued as if he hadn't spoke. "I honestly don't know what I did to make you hate me to this extent, but I can't stand it - especially after everything! I mean, I know, I get it, sleeping together shouldn't have meant anything - but I guess you're just a better actor than I am! There, okay? I said it, you're so much better than me because I-I can't just pretend and lie about what happened between us - not us, not this time! And I hate that it's fucking with me this bad, but it's everything right now, okay? It's the matching outfits and the touching - so much fucking touching, James, for fuck's sake! I know we're supposed to be posing for photos and playing this role of two people who actually like one another, but holy fuck, it's so much touching - so many photos, so many questions, so much recollection, all these memories, and so much lying - I fucking hate that we're lying about us - "
"Hey, hey, hey," Bucky soothed, suddenly materializing in front of you and holding both your arms, but let go when you reared back, "woah, hey, listen - listen to me, I don't hate you. It's quite the opposite, doll, but you need to take a breath, please, try to-to-to calm down, and I know you're not supposed to tell women that, but I don't know what else to say right now. Just - Just pause for me, doll. Listen, it's not lying for me, all right? It's not lying, it's me using wishful thinking as a coping mechanism 'cause it bothers me, too."
"W-What?" You put some distance between you again by stepping back into the furthest corner of where marble counter met wall. Exhaustion pitted your bones, hollowing them; adrenaline flooding your system after your anxiety made you feel defenseless. Tears fell without thought or realization. You needed to breathe.
Bucky's eyes were soft, his brows crinkled in concern, lips gently twitching before speaking, "I just, I realized how fucking rude I've been to you - I mean, it shouldn't matter that you never called, I could've! You know? Phone's work both ways, so, I just started thinking how much of a dick I've been - "
"What're you talking about?" You asked, tears slowing but still dribbling. "J-James, what're you talking about, I didn't call? Why would I have called you? You left me! You left. That was a pretty clear message to send."
His brows now hooked towards his nose in confusion, "What do you mean, I left?"
"After we slept together."
"Oh, baby, you think I skipped out on you?" He watched you nod meekly, breathing out, "Nah, nah, nah, I went to get us breakfast and coffee..." He purred, taking a slow step towards you, "But when I got back, you were already gone, on set. I thought you'd leave a note, but you didn't, so I didn't really think to linger in your hotel suite. I thought maybe you'd call or text me when you got back, but when you didn't, I figured you were busy and waited, then that you regretted us being together."
"Wait... Wait, wait, wait, what? Hold on, y-you went to get us...? Hold on, what? I'm still playing catch up."
Bucky stood in front of you, gently pulling you from the corner just to lean in the middle of the marble with his hands warm on your waist and ribs.
"Yeah," Bucky grins, "I went to get us breakfast. Toasted plain bagel with eggs - scrambled, of course - uh, extra cheese, and you prefer bacon to pork sausage, but only if it's extra crispy and if they don't offer turkey sausage. You like either maple syrup or Sriracha," Bucky's hands flexed to a sudden bruising grip, hoisting you onto the counter, "depending on your mood." You were stunned into silence, heart pounding; allowing him to hike your dress skirt over your thighs, then spread them only so he could stand between them, "And of course, you like both hot and iced mocha lattes equally with regular cream and sugar. Because you don't trust all baristas to get your portions right, you like keeping additional cream and sugar on hand in case it's not enough - which is why you think your coffee is complicated, because you go based on taste instead of color or measurement."
Your smile was genuine, curling your hand under his jaw to caress tantalizing stubble; holding around his neck and shoulders to remain close. You hushed, "I know that shouldn't impress me, but it does..."
"As long as you stop crying, baby, c'mon," he whined gently, "I can't stand the sight."
You nodded and sniffled, looking down as your foreheads met; gently fiddling with his diamond-crusted lapels. "For the record?" You whispered, noses nuzzling, "I don't regret it..."
"Good," he matched your tone, "'cause I don't either. But I do regret how I've treated you... I'm really sorry, doll. Maybe if I wasn't such a dickhead, we could've had these last 6 months together, huh?"
"Probably not, weren't you on location?" You snickered, caressing his cheek and keeping his forehead on yours as your tears dried and reality came back into hand.
"Oh, like you weren't?" He smirked. "Hey, I gotta question for you."
"Hm?"
"Can I take you to dinner? Please? You know, do this properly? We kinda skipped some steps."
You pulled back to look at him, laughing, "Could I clean the mascara off my face before you ask me out?"
"What mascara?"
"Oh, please - "
"Nah, seriously, baby, you look perfect, I promise, whatever Jessie used 's gotta be waterproof," he grinned, hand reaching up to hold your cheek sweetly, thumb sweeping away tear tracks.
"How do you know my make-up artist?"
"I might follow them on Instagram," he shrugged casually, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Now, I know this great pizza place, right?"
"Uh-huh...?"
"And I think you'll love it. C'mon, baby, lemme take you there."
"Where is it?"
"Not... That... Far..."
"What does that mean? Bucky, what're you plotting?"
"So, the pizza place, right? I found it when we were filming with Ridley - "
"Bucky."
"So, it's technically in Rome - but - "
"Oh, my God, who are you? Pete Becker? Are you binging FRIENDS, again? Hell no - "
"Hear me out!"
"We're not going to Italy!"
"Hang on, just listen to me, baby, okay?" He purred, gripping your hips in a bruising grip to drag you to the edge, "Let's get this premier done, right? And after, you and me go to the airport - I'll have my people get us tickets, Regina can grab your passport, you know? And let's just get away for a little bit - you even said you've never been to the Amalfi Coast."
You laughed sarcastically, "Yeah, okay, sure."
"You think I'm joking?"
"A little bit."
Bucky leaned forward and kissed you to suppress his own grin; lapping his tongue against yours before pulling back. "Just say yes, doll, c'mon, lemme make up for being a dickhead, huh?" He pleaded quietly.
You hummed, kissing him again, answering against his lips, "Yes, to all of it."
"Yes?"
"Yes - " You squealed in laughter when Bucky surged forward to kiss you again, this time, out of sheer relief, pure joy, and unrestricted excitement.
requesting rules and masterlist
Marvel masterlist
#bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#actor!bucky barnes#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x oc#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes hurt and comfort#bucky barnes hurt/comfort#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes marvel#bucky barnes request#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x fem reader#bucky barnes enemies to lovers
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I would love to see a âthis is me tryingâ where itâs the reader and Bucky getting each other through hard times and they take turns with the song. Like âPouring out my heart to a stranger, But I didn't pour the whiskeyâ could be Buckys mandated therapy and âThey told me all of my cages were mental, So I got wasted like all my potentialâ could be about the reader and maybe depression/ anxiety. I just know they would be each other rock during hard times.
This Is Me Trying - b.b.
They told me all of my cages were mental | So I got wasted like all my potential | Pouring out my heart to a stranger | But I didn't pour the whiskey
note: this is a part of my Cruel Summer (Marvel's Version) Project, running all summer long. I think I may have focused a bit too much on Bucky than I did the reader as far as the lyric analysis goes buttttt I still hope you like it ! This is what came to my mind while listening to the song while writing. Bucky and reader would def be eachother's rocks, and he would def be vulnerable and soft with her!
wordcount: 2.5k
trope / pairing: bucky x Fem Reader , hurt comfort.
warnings: drunk creeps at the bar, the internal struggles of a relationship
Materslist | Marvel Masterlist | Cruel Summer (Marvel's Version) Masterlist |
BuckyÂ
For once, the couch wasnât the most uncomfortable part of today's therapy session. It was usually the bane of his existence, the scratchy material somehow poking him even through the thick cloth of his pants, distracting him from whatever Dr. Raynor was discussing. But not today. No, today, Buckyâs focus was solely on the doctor, the way her lips formed around the words that were waiting to land with a sting.Â
âI want you to do something for me, James,â Dr. Raynor said, her head falling to the side as she held his attention.Â
âI want you to think of everyone you have in your life right now who is there for you. It doesnât matter how little or how many people come to mind⌠but there must be at least one. Someone who you know you can always count on, even through the memories that plague you, who knows all of your secrets, who you trust.â The last word hit with an intensity that had even the winter soldier squirming in his seat.Â
Trust was not something Bucky had. Not after Steve. Everything Dr. Raynor just described, was who Steve used to be to Bucky, and she knew it. That was the point. Steve was now gone, and Bucky had to accept that, and have a new rock.Â
âAnd what if I canât think of anyone?â Bucky asked, his tone short and snipped.Â
âYou expect me to sit here and believe there is not a single person who does not have your back?â She asked again. Her tone said everything. She knew. She knew about the one person he kept a secret, who knew the parts of him he kept hidden. He stared at the doctor quizzically, before leaning forward on his elbows.
âHow do you know,â he whispered gruffly, careful of his word choice. There were always eyes and ears in the building, aimlessly looking for new information. He was not about to divulge his deepest secret that easily.Â
âJames, you seem to forget that I myself was highly ranked in the Army. I know my way around sourcing out information.â She responded, still patiently watching him as she waited for him to continue.Â
âI swear to god-â
âLet me stop you right there. Rest assured she is safe, her location undisclosed, I donât even know her name. But I know there is someone, and I know it is a girl. So tell me about this person. This is a safe space, James. Nothing you say leaves this room, or else you could actually sue me.âÂ
Bucky contemplated this for a moment, before settling back into the scratchy couch. His mind wandered once more to her. To you. To the smell of your hair when you pull him in for a hug. To the way your arms wrap tightly around his waist, gripping his shirt slightly in the process. To the way your breathing softens when you're in his embrace, as if you feel perfectly safe.Â
He had met you in a bar, of all places. It was a bar Sam had dragged him to, attempting to get him to socialize. Bucky stayed at the bar top all night, downing whiskey after whiskey, while Sam flitted about with a blonde who was very interested in what Captain America was up to tonight. Buvky had rolled his eyes, turning his attention to the bartender. She was a pretty thing, her hair bouncy despite the sweat glistening her brow. She made drink after drink for the patrons, talking animatedly as she did so. It was then, as she was twirling a half empty bottle around mixing a drink, that Bucky realized he was no longer staring at the bartender, but just past her to a patron at the end of the bar.Â
Y/NÂ
You sat at the other end of the bar, looking around timidly. You were definitely out of place, the complete opposite to the socialites around you. The drink of choice for the night for you was water, wanting to be as stone cold sober as possible. There were too many guys eyeing your figure to ever make you feel safe enough to try anything else.Â
You glanced behind you once more at a group of guys who had been subtly cat-calling you all night. Their comments went from compliments to criticism when you didnât give them the time of day. Now the talk was borderline dangerous, as one remarked what he wished he could do to you.Â
âCareful man, sheâs probably fuckinâ mental,â one laughed.Â
âSheâd have to be to not be into me,â the other responded.Â
Your car was twenty feet from the bar. An easy run, if you had to, but since your car was old and beat up, there wasnât an automatic lock. There was no easy way out, so instead you decided to stay at the bar, hoping eventually the group would retire for the night, leaving you alone.Â
The hope of that happening though only dwindled as the night went on. You glanced over once again, to see they were not just staring at you, but at someone who was walking towards you- a guy. But this guy wasnât with them before. You nervously clutched your drink, as his heavy footsteps stopped in front of you.Â
âAre you alright?â His voice was a lot more gentle than you would have thought, given his gruff appearance. He was dressed in jeans and a tight black long sleeve shirt. He had a five oâclock shadow, his face rough and his stare was militant⌠intense. You gulped as you held his gaze, too captivated to turn away.Â
âUh, yeah,â you said quickly, glancing past him to the group of guys. They had never looked more interested. The mystery man turned slightly, almost as if he was about to leave. You shot out and grabbed his arm, a gasp echoing in the tight space. His arm was solid, not of muscle, but of something else. Heat radiated off of it, almost as if it was some conduit- or perhaps his shirt was. He glanced to where your arm was wrapped around his forearm, waiting for you to remove it.Â
âIâm sorry,â you said, again with a rushed demeanor. You withdrew your hand, and the man winced at the loss of contact. âPlease donât go,â you pleaded in a hushed whisper. He nodded, before tapping on the shoulder of the patron sitting next to you.Â
âExcuse me, do you mind if I steal this seat so I can sit next to my girlfriend?â He asked. The patron nodded, getting out of his seat.Â
âIâm Bucky,â he said, as he sat down in the seat.Â
ây/n,â you whispered, careful to not let the group of men hear. You stole a quick glance, careful not to draw too much attention- but it was to no avail. Bucky noticed far too quickly, whipping his head to the group of men. They clumsily diverted their attention away from you, onto the beers in front of them. Â
âAre they bothering you?â Bucky asked lowly, his hands balled in fists.Â
âI donât think they will be any longer,â you whispered, glancing down at the fistthat now glittered under the light. He merely nodded, before shifting in his seat to face the bar. You did the same.
A comfortable beat of silence passed between the two of you, as you waited for him to start some sort of conversation. When he didnât you sighed, picking up your near empty cup of water. He noticed, and flagged the bartender down.Â
âSheâll have anotherâŚâ he trailed off, waiting to see what you had.Â
âWater.âÂ
âWater- water?âÂ
âYeah, I tend not to drink when creepy men are watching my every move.â You stated, running your hands through your hair. Bucky could tell you were uncomfortable here, and he wanted to do whatever he had to do to make you more comfortable.Â
âThere isnât any way to say this that isnât going to make me look like a sleaze bag⌠but if you wanted to get out of here I would be glad to escort you somewhere where you feel more safe,â Bucky offered. You smiled at him, the kindness warming your heart.Â
âThatâs mighty kind of you actually,â you replied, taking one last sip of your water.Â
That night had changed everything for you. You had met someone who became such an integral part of your life, you didnât know how you even breathed before him. Bucky was silent, kind, and patient. He was the epitome of a comfortable silence. After a long day, you know you could come home and just relax, not having to worry about forcing conversations and hosting small talks. He was patient with you through all of your mental spells, from the bouts of depression to the woes of your anxieties. He was there, calm and always reassuring. He understood.Â
Then there were the nights. The nights that had the two of you up, crying in one another's arms from the ghosts of the past, coming to haunt you through the darkness. The nightmares disguised as dreams, filling your head while you slept until you were jolted awake, Bucky jolting right along with you. The two of you panted, trying to catch your breath, before revealing the nightmare to the other.Â
It only worsened when Bucky got sent on mission after mission, disappearing for days, weeks, and one time even months. During that mission, Bucky had sent a worrisome text to Peter Parker- the only person not on the mission that Bucky knew. He wasnât the biggest fan of Peter, but he knew the kid would keep you safe.Â
Please check on y/n. Havenât heard from her.
yes mr. bucky sir, iâm on my way now.Â
Peter knocked on your door minutes later, timidly calling out your name. When you didnât answer, he used his suit to unlock the door, slowly walking around the apartment you shared with Bucky. It was small, and immaculately tidy Peter noticed, as he worked his way towards the bedroom in the back.Â
He found you there, curled up in a ball, hugging on a sweatshirt that smelled like Bucky.Â
âOh, y/n,â Peter sighed, scooping you up. âI got you.âÂ
When Bucky returned, you were instantly in his arms. The tears freely flowing as you squeezed him tightly. He held you just as tightly, never wanting to let you go again.Â
And he stupidly made that promise, even though it was out of his control.Â
Bucky
Thatâs what the most recent fight had been about, and why he was now in Dr Raynors office, sighing heavily as the memories faded out.Â
âTell me what happened,â she said, settling back into her chair, her pen at the ready to continue taking notes. Bucky looked at his cracked, calloused hands, stalling. He didnât want to relive this, but he knew if he wanted to fix it⌠he had to.Â
âI had made a promise to her that I wasnât going to leave her side again⌠and then Sam called me away on a mission. I didnât have a choice, and it was too dangerous to try and bring her with. So, I left a note on my pillow and I left. Iâm not proud of it, I know I should have handled that better. But when I came back, she was furious. Like, explosive. Nothing I did would calm her temper. She just⌠wouldnât stop screaming at me. Usually she just isolates and shuts down; that I can understand so much better than this⌠whatever this is. I⌠I donât know what to do doc⌠I canât lose her.âÂ
âHave you tried talking to her?â Dr. Raynor asked, her head cocking to the side. Bucky had never been this open with her.
âNo.â
âNo? Okay, well why donât we try that first. Explain to her exactly what you explained to me, and make sure to apologize for leaving a note. I can tell you right now, no one likes to be left like that⌠and I think you can relate to that a little bit,â Dr. Raynor finished.Â
The clock on the wall struck 12, signaling their session was over. Bucky nodded goodbye to the doctor, before slinging his jacket on to prepare for the cold weather. The winter was harsher this year, the cold biting Buckyâs nose the second he stepped outside. He hurriedly put his gloves on as he walked down the street.Â
He was only a few blocks from your shared apartment, and he had survived much colder weather than this, but he was still regretting not hailing a cab. It was dusk, the sun beginning to settle herself against the buildings, casting a hazy glow on the streets. Vendors were packing up their carts, preparing to leave for the night. One, however, was still open. An older lady sat behind her cart, an abundance of flowers sat on top.Â
âFLOWERS $5â the sign read, in sloppy handwriting. She was clearly homeless, and something pained Bucky to see such an old lady on the streets during the cold spell.Â
âHi, Iâll take two bouquets please,â Bucky asked, handing her a $50. âKeep the change, please.â
âA-are you sure?â The frail woman asked, as she bundled up two bouquets for him. He nodded, offering her a warm smile. He wished there was more he could do as he walked away, but when he turned around to glance at her again, she was gone.Â
The apartment was quiet as he unlocked the door and headed in, the only light streaming in from behind the curtains, casting the same haze from the street into the rooms. It was almost too quiet, as he walked from room to room.Â
ây/n?â Bucky called out, hoping he hadnât missed you yet.Â
âIn here,â you muttered from the bedroom. You were sitting in the bay window under a blanket, reading a book. It was then Bucky realized just how cold the apartment was.Â
âThe heater went out,â you said, setting your book down. You noticed the flowers in his hands, and glanced back up at him.Â
âIâll take a look at it. Here, these are for you.â He said, sitting down across from you. He handed you the bouquets, smiling gently as you took them.
âAre you apologizing with flowers, Bucky Barnes?â You asked, teasing eminent in your voice. He hung his head, nodding slightly.Â
âLook, y/n, you know Iâm not good at this. But for what itâs worth⌠I know I fucked up. I should have actually talked to you, instead of leaving you a note, and I never should have made a promise I couldnât keep. But I-â his voice hitched in his throat as he tried his hardest not to break down in tears. âI canât lose you, okay. Youâre my rock.âÂ
A tear rolled down your cheek. As apologies go, it was one of the better ones you had received from the stoic soldier in front of you. Placing the flowers down, you pulled Bucky in against you, running your fingers through his hair.Â
âItâs not okay, but I forgive you. I canât lose you either.â You whispered, placing a kiss on his head.Â
âI just want you to know, this is me trying.â
| Feedback is greatly appreciated |
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x fem reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes tfatws#bucky barnes x taylor swift#this is me trying taylor swift#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes hurt/comfort#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes#marvel#marvel fanfic#marvel fic#<33333#alohastylesx#alohastylesx works
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âMother May I Sleep With Danger, Please'.....
Summary: Bucky and the reader have gone undercover.
Photos aren't mine, credit to the og owners
Tiltle from âMother May I Sleep With Danger?â By Joy Crookes
Warnings: reader is black, reader is wearing a dress and has a back tattoo, she/her pronouns, Bucky drinks a glass of whiskey, the longest fic I've ever written, no y/n used, weird nicknames, google translate Russian, ending is abrupt bc I couldn't think of any ending that wasn't me stealing from someone else, speaking of which; inspired by @buckyalpine âs fic
A/N: thanks to @webinurcloset for proofreading
I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO REPOST OR TRANSLATE AND REPOST, THIS IS MY WRITING! DO NOT FEED MY WORK INTO ANY AI BOT.
I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG MAKING THIS 18+ CONTENT. MOVE ON MINOR.
You were the newest addition to the avengers, quiet, solemn but hardworking nonetheless. You had been living in the tower for a month now, not a soul but you had seen the inside of your apartments. Every dinner, meeting and mission you stayed silent save for the occasional âhelloâ âthank youâ and âgoodnightâ. The other Avengers didn't make a big deal of it, knowing how anxiety can affect a person especially a newly appointed avenger.
You had not yet been approved for missions so you spent most of your time in your room, but the few times you were spotted around the tower or the compound you wore loose black sweats and a scarf around your hair. The only visible parts of you being your face and part of your neck, the parts of you they could see they appreciated. They weren't very concerned about the rest of your body, knowing most of them were covered in scars, some more inclined to hide them than others.
Everyone expected that to change, especially once you were approved for missions. The week had finally come. They were given the option to watch from the balcony as you were examined in the training gym. As Tony hadn't finished your âHero Suitâ as he called it, you were given a SHIELD issue suit. Unsurprisingly it covered more of your body than your sweats did, with a high neck, gloves and a hood. Though your silhouette was certainly visible, Steve's blush made that clear. You had undeniable skill easily mastering each and every weapon handed to you, easily defeating over a dozen SHIELD agents.Â
You were called into a meeting shortly after your approval, along with Sam, Natasha and Bucky. You walked in to see the three spyâs spread about, sat around the long metal table. You were surprised at Steve's absence, deducing that this mission was to be more covert than usual. You were told by Maria Hill the nature of the mission, surveillance, which came as no surprise to you.
After a long silence caused by one of Sam's âjokesâ, you wondered if you all would be sitting in a van together for hours. Maria quickly began to discuss the details of the mission. You and Bucky would be infiltrating a gala, set to happen the next day hosted by a man named Anatoli Volkov at his private residence in New Hampshire, one of his many properties.Â
He had been suspected of human trafficking and many other dirty dealings by the FBI for years, only falling under SHIELDS radar after one of the girls he had âallegedlyâ kidnaped was found in a Hydra facility barely breathing 3 years later. She thankfully survived and was able to give some information on how she ended up there, including Volkovâs name.
Maria gave you the files on yours and Bucky's undercover identities; Ukraine and American born spies, respectively, over a dozen confirmed kills, married in 2015... You stopped for a moment, eyes reverting back to that last phrase, a couple, a married couple. Feeling Bucky's eyes on you, you kept your expression as neutral as possible before continuing to read on. After the briefing you briskly made your way to your room, grabbing a bottle of your favorite drink from your fridge.
You thanked whoever designed this building for allowing everyone to have their own apartments, two to a floor with the only exception being Wanda and Vision.
Their apartments have been merged so they now have the floor to themselves.
The moderately sized units were outfitted with a kitchen with a small dining table, a small living room along with a television, bathroom, small walk in closet and bedroom. As well as the F.R.I.D.A.Y. ai wired throughout the building.
You had put more time into decorating than you originally planned but overall, you made a home for yourself. You only had to leave when you ran out of food, for training or for laundry and other chores. After a few hours sitting in your bed, memorizing the blueprints for Volkov's house and every given detail of your new identity F.R.I.D.A.Y.âs startled you out of your focus, notifying you that someone was at your door.
You opened your door to Bucky holding a black garment bag and a medium sized shopping bag in his right hand with a large black box in his left.
âHill wanted me to give you theseâ he handed you the two bags, âand Tony finished your suitâ
You weren't necessarily surprised at his arrival, considering you two shared a floor it made sense for him to be the one to deliver the items to you.
You thanked him quietly, reaching out to grab the box. It was heavier than expected. You gave him a small smile before closing the door. The heat in your cheeks suddenly became quite noticeable. You hoped quietly that the melanin you were so grateful for covered any hypothetical redness.
As you passed the windows on the way to your bedroom you noticed the dark night sky, you hadn't realized how late it was. You hung up the garment bag on the hook you had placed outside of your closet door, placing the bag and your new suit on the bed. You made your way to the bathroom to take a shower, the warm water calming you as you reflected on the events of the day.
You had been trying to befriend your fellow Avengers but your anxieties prevented you from being outgoing. You had grown closest with Bruce, as he could relate to your fears. You stepped out of the shower commencing your skincare and body care routine. After you finished you went to grab the garment bag, trying on the gown to ensure it fit with the black heels they'd given you to go along with it.
You quite liked the ensemble, but you weren't quite thrilled to wear it in front of the rest of the Avengers. You took it off returning the items to their previous packaging before putting on your night clothes and getting in your bed. You fell asleep searching for hairstyles to wear to the gala on Pinterest.
You dreamt of Bucky that night, how he might touch you with his large hands, one warm flesh, one cool metal , how he might look at you with gorgeous and piercing blue eyes, how he might love you with all of that and everything in between.
__________________
The Next Morning
You awoke earlier than normal, 4:56, a habit you'd had since adolescence when you were anxious. You changed into your workout clothes, black sports bra, leggings and the lulu lemon jacket Natasha had gifted to you when you first arrived. You made your way to the restroom where you pulled your hair back into a ponytail. Putting on your favorite pair of red sneakers before leaving.
Making your way to the elevator, Bucky's apartment door opened. You stopped in front of the elevator doors, turning to watch him. He turned around and made eye contact with you, after a few minutes of still silence you spoke, âgoing down?â he shut his door and answered with a smile, âyeaâ.
He stood beside you as the doors opened, he raised his hand allowing you to enter first pressing the gym floor button as he turned facing the closing the doors. You smiled down at the elevator buttons as Bucky adjusted his position so he wouldn't crowd you, something he often did unintentionally due to his large stature.
10, 9, 8.. The small screen changed as you descended the floors. âThank you for bringing me the stuff for the mission.'' Bucky smiled, the most he'd ever heard you speak.
6, 5⌠âOf course, how'd you like your suit?â your suit, you'd forgotten to try it on last night. You didn't even open the box, âI haven't put it on yetâ âno rush, I was just curiousâ he shrugged âits ok, I would be tooâ you both smiled.
4, 3. The doors slid open, you exited first heading for the women's locker room so you could use the bathroom. Glad to find it empty, you were in and out spending most of your time at the sink washing your hands and examining everything that just happened in the elevator. After finding one too many reasons to be embarrassed you left the bathroom and entered the gym, heading right for the open floor to stretch.
The gym was just as empty as the locker room, save for Bucky, you decided to go light today. Loosen yourself up before the mission just to avoid being sore. You finished before Bucky did, he was on the pull up bar as he had been for the 7 minutes before then, you'd spent that time admiring his muscular back looking away when you began to feel a gathering wetness in your underwear.
You left just before the morning gym rush arrived, taking another shower in your room and putting on your usual sweats and scarf before getting some fruit to eat in front of the tv where you sat for the next few hours.
You looked at the clock, 5:00. You were set to leave at 6:30.
You quickly got up, making sure you packed everything you needed to style your hair and do your makeup. You grabbed the garment and shoe bag along with a black purse with hardware that matched your chosen jewelry and a black scarf made with the same material of the dress to cover your shoulders. You made sure you had everything you needed before running to the elevator, heading to the top floor to board the quinjet.
You arrived first, much to your surprise, allowing the SHIELD agent piloting to pack your things into the built in storage compartments. As you sat down, Sam, Nat and Bucky arrived with their clothes and other supplies in tow. You looked back down over your thighs to make sure you put your seatbelt into the right clip. When you looked back up they were walking to their seats Bucky choosing to sit next to you
âHey dollâ he said with a small smile, âhelloâ you replied quietly. Sam and Nat sat across from you both. Suddenly a SHIELD agent, who appeared to be quite out of breath ran up the ramp. He stopped in front of you handing you a small black box, âthe wedding rings mamâ he said exasperatedly. You thanked him before he nodded and ran back out. You opened the box to two simple wedding bands, one thicker than the other and a diamond ring, one you might have chosen for yourself if this was real. You held out the box to Bucky before he reached for the thicker band, placing it on his ring finger before you did the same.
You noticed the rings were not new, with small nicks and marks. An important detail, especially if you were going to be surrounded by people as observant as you. You made a mental note to fake a tan line on yours and Buckyâs fingers later. The pilot cut through the silence on the intercom, announcing the beginning of the flight.
You landed in the SHIELD port shortly after as the flight was only 15 minutes. You were taken to the car port by another agent along with your bags where Natasha was given keys to a black cadillac escalade. You all stood against the grey concrete wall for a second, watching as the agent packed your things into the trunk of the car you looked at Bucky to your right, admiring how his jawline was accentuated by his man bun. You were sure you might have gaged at the bundle of hair on anyone else but on him you couldn't help but fawn over it. He looked down at you with a grin, making you look forward again embarrassed, glad to see the agent was finished.
Nat drove to the hotel where you would be staying, pleasantly surprised that it was an actual hotel and not a dirty highway motel like some of the other Avengers had been made to stay in. You and Nat packed all of your things onto a luggage cart while Sam and Bucky checked you all in.
âYou should tell him you like him, you know, he likes you just as much.â Natasha says suddenly, you look up at her with shocked eyes âwhat?â you ask quickly, voice wavering. She flashes a grin at you, âNothing, sorryâ
You pushed the luggage cart into the lobby where Bucky and Sam were waiting by the elevator, you struggled slightly to push the cart into the elevator, Natasha and Sam attempting to help you on the other side. âI'll help you dollâ. He moved behind you, placing his hands just above yours. You felt his warm body push into yours as you stumbled in with the cart. You turned to face him as the doors closed looking into his eyes for a moment, you cleared your throat, breaking eye contact and speaking quietly to ask âwhich floor?â he smirked âpenthouse, dollâ you clicked the button watching as it lit up and feeling the elevator begin to move.
Bucky was too preoccupied watching you avoid looking at his face to notice the look Sam and Nat exchanged, one of pride and cunning, it was only a matter of time.
Nat and Sam left your coms on the desk before going across the hall to their room. You used the master bathroom to get ready while Bucky used the half bath. You had finished your hair and makeup but were struggling to close the dress, the satin buttons proving hard to reach. You stepped out of the bathroom calling for Bucky, âwhat's up dollâ he stepped out of the bathroom fixing his suit cuff, you were pulled into a trance admiring how he looked in the black suit, his bun making him look even more mysterious.
âDoll?â you snapped out of it. Not realizing he had moved closer to you, âwhat do you need, sweet girl?â he spoke softly, you swore that his pet names would make you spontaneously combust. âI need help with my dress, I can't get it closed.â You turned your back to him so he could start closing the buttons. He quietly admired the art tattooed on your back, it was beautiful, elongating your back with its elegant design. With every brush of his hands on your skin you became more and more flustered thanking whatever deity was looking down on you when he announced he was done, you turned to face him again âYou look great doll.â Bucky said with a smile, your eyes flashing in between his eyes and chest a few times before you spoke up, âI'll just grab my bag and we can goâÂ
You made sure you had on all of your jewelry, including your wedding rings, your bag, your scarf and your com before you told Bucky you were ready to go. You stepped out just as Natasha and Sam did, donning their driver and bodyguard outfits respectively. The elevator trip was much less awkward, Sam even managing to make a joke that you all laughed at.
You all walked to the car, you and Sam moving to the right and Nat and Bucky moving to the left. Nat and Sam got in the front seats of the car while Bucky opened the door for you, you slid to the seat on the other end so he wouldn't have to circle the car to enter. Sam pulled off just as he shut the door. You had been staring absentmindedly out of the window when you felt Bucky grip your hand and pull it towards his chest. You turned your head toward him, making no movements as you had no intention of pulling your hand away. As he turned the wedding rings on your finger you wondered again what it would be like to be loved by Bucky.
The drive was short, you arrived âfashionably lateâ as Sam called it at 8:15. The estate was gorgeous, elegant and large but not overbearing. It rested on a large piece of land surrounded by forests and greenery.
âLadies and gents we have arrived. I'll circle to the entrance to drop you two off and we'll park a few blocks away.â Sam said, while his tone was gleeful you heard the underlying worry in his voice. Bucky walked out and around to your door, reaching his hand around to help you step out. âDon't forget to turn on your coms.â Nat added quickly as you Bucky closed the car door.
Bucky moved his arm around your waist to guide you up the stairs of the extravagant mansion, the doors opened to a gorgeous ballroom, warm lighting, brown tones and old school jazz music coming from the live band in the corner. Just quiet enough to feel like a background song to a memory. There were plenty of people, criminals you assumed. All well dressed in browns, blacks and creams.
You admired the dress of one woman while Bucky walked you to the bar, keeping you close. He ordered himself a whiskey neat. One of the perks that come from being a super soldier on missions, he can drink normal alcohol with no consequences because it has no effect on his body. Discovering his inability to get drunk has given Bucky the opportunity to drink whiskey for the flavor, he has become a bit of a connoisseur post freedom, his current favorite being Bushmills Black Bush Whiskey. You ordered a âShirley Templeâ, not necessarily feeling like drinking alcohol. You moved to sit on the bar stool facing away from the bar while Bucky stayed standing on your right side waiting for your drinks.
The bartender handed Bucky your drinks when suddenly you felt a clammy hand on your shoulder, âĐ˝Ń ŃŃĐž ŃŃŃ Ń Đ˝Đ°Ń? ŃкСОŃиŃĐľŃĐşĐ°Ń ĐşŃĐ°ŃавиŃĐ°?â (well what do we have here? an exotic beauty?) You looked up at the person touching him, and immediately recognized him as Anatoli Volkov. You wanted to pull his hand off of you and break it but you couldn't do anything to make him suspicious, thankfully Bucky spoke before you did.
âĐźĐžŃ ĐśĐľĐ˝Đ° воНикОНопна, но ŃĐ°Đş Ни?â (my wife is gorgeous, isn't she?) he said, putting some obvious emphasis on the word wife. He then wrapped one of his arms around your neck. You reached up to grasp his hand floating hand, pulling it down slightly. Volkov smirked, âI meant you no offense, Mr.?â he said in an amused tone, highlighting his thick accent.
âJoseph Smith and my wife Irisâ. Your thumb swiped across his hand as he spoke, your head leaning back into his chest. Anatoli reached his hand out towards Bucky to shake, âit's nice to meet you Joseph, i hope to see you both againâ Volkov looked down at you with a sly smirk, Bucky diverted his attention when he reciprocated his handshake, Anatoli's eyes shooting back up to him. âI hope to see you again tooâ Bucky smiled but his grip tightened, Volkov shook out his hand as he turned and walked away from the both of you. You turned to face the bar taking a sip of your drink, the sweet liquid refreshing your parched throat.
Bucky's arm moved off of you to take a sip of his drink. You turned back to the crowd after downing half of your drink, taking a moment to see how much security was in the building. Eventually you noticed at least 8 men in all black suits, all of whom had repeatedly talked to the same man in a dark blue suit. He had been shadowing Volkov since you arrived, you noted.
Suddenly Bucky grabbed your knees, pulling you to face him and moving your legs around his waist, with one hand you gripped his wrist and with the other you stabilized yourself on his shoulder. Your hand slowly moved up his arm as he pushed his hand up into your dress clutching and rubbing at your ass and thighs. âgray suit 2:00, he might have made us, i'm not sure.â you barely brought yourself to tear your eyes away from his face to look at the man in question. He was standing in a corner watching the two of you, finally looking away to reach into his pocket to answer his phone. You tried to read his lips but were quickly distracted when Bucky pushed his head into your neck, your hand flying to his neck carefully holding his head.
âThink we should go?â he said into your ear, you cleared your throat âwe don't have anything on Volkov yet, we should wait.â he grunted in response before pulling his head out from your shoulder, only moving one of his hands to reach for his glass of whiskey again. You looked up at him, wondering how he can manage to make butterflies turn in your stomach while staying completely calm, you hoped that your flustered behavior wasn't tipping off the other people in the ballroom. You looked back at the jazz band when the music ended, quietly clapping before Anatoli walked on stage. You immediately rolled your eyes, wanting to zone out but knowing that if you did you'd likely regret it. You reached to take a sip of your drink, reminding yourself as to why you hadn't ordered something alcoholic when Anatoli began to speak.
The whole speech was in Russian, he thanked his guests, boasted and bragged but still delivered no useful information. Fake laughter coming from all sides of the room. You had zoned out a bit, listening to the heavenly jazz band on stage once again until you felt a hand on your neck. Bucky grasped both sides of your face with both of his hands, tilting your head up to look at him, he chucked when you hesitated to look him in the eye.
He held his forehead against yours brushing your lips against each other before speaking again, âSomebodys watching us, doll.â He smirked when he finished using his hands to push your head in the direction of the man in the gray suit once again. You looked back at Bucky before aiming your head down.
You took your hands, taping the inside of yours and Buckyâs ears discreetly before moving them around his neck. You spoke quietly, âNat, do you copy?â there were a few seconds of static before a response came âCopy kitty-girl, what's going on in there?â you smiled at the nickname, reminded of the night you and Nat had snuck Alpine out from Buckyâs room to put her in the animal Falcon costume. âWe're all good but maybe not for long, weâre being watched.â âAlright, get out of there. We'll be at the front waiting.â You heard her call for Sam to start the car before you looked at Bucky in the eye again, nodding subtly.
He moved his hands from your face, grabbing your bag from the bar before lifting you off of the stool, you let a small gasp escape you. Before you could process the action he was pulling you across the room to the entrance, when you reached the stairs he placed an arm under your shoulders and the other under your knee, the action made you squeal and you in turn made him laugh. You felt like a princess, or at the very least a main character in a rom com that was not deemed relevant enough to have Bucky watch yet.
You were sure that anyone witnessing the interaction would simply think you two were a happy couple eager to get home after a long night of tension.
He placed you down to open the door to the large van, lifting you into your seat before sliding in himself. Sam begins to open his mouth to speak when you put a finger over your mouth in an effort to quiet him. You look through your purse finding a bug in the open interior pocket and a tracker handing them to Natasha, she hands you a bug detector. You took Bucky's hands to make sure there were no other devices before doing a quick sweep over his body and yours, after finding nothing you say âalright, we're clearâ. Natasha smiles when you hand the bug detector back to her, noticing that Bucky hasn't taken his eyes off of you and you haven't let go of Bucky's hand.
It's done, I'm done, sorry if this sucks.
Taglist:
@floriidakilos @zendayassimp @itsyagirljaz
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x black!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes concept#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fic#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x black reader#bucky barnes x fem reader#leo writes again
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