#Bucky barnes untouched au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amethystarachnid · 4 months ago

Text

BET

⤷ JAMES B. “BUCKY” BARNES

ᯓ★ Pairing: James B. “Bucky” Barnes x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, angst and fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: not requested but taken from MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 10k (damn this surprises me too)

ᯓ★ Summary: When Bucky Barnes suddenly starts talking to you you don't think much of it and when he asks you out on a date you couldn't be happier, Bucky truly is everything you could ever want in a man, a man that really loves you...At least that's what you thought until you discovered that it was real all just a bet.

ᯓ★ TW(s): mentions of virginity and virginity loss, small mentions of a smut scene

ᯓ★ AU: college au

ᯓ★ Request: not requested

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests closed)

ᯓ★ Masterlist

ᯓ★ If you are a Charles Xavier fan click on this link!

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language and this isn’t proof read

The music is loud, pulsing through the walls of the frat house as Bucky sits slouched on a couch, one arm draped lazily over the back. The night is already wearing on him, but he knows he’s going to be here until Sam and Steve call it a night, which—based on the collection of red solo cups by their feet—might be a while.

They’re all trading stories from the semester, voices buzzing with that blend of laughter and cheap beer. Sam is in the middle of recounting his latest dare when he nudges Bucky’s arm, catching his attention.

“Bet you couldn’t last a month with someone like her,” Sam says, nodding toward the corner of the room.

Bucky glances up, following Sam’s gaze until he spots you. You’re perched near the bookshelf, alone and fidgeting with your drink as you flip through a book someone left behind. He’s seen you around campus before, usually with your nose buried in a novel or surrounded by a pile of textbooks. There’s something unassuming about you, something quiet and untouchable. His friends know he’s more the type to go for a party girl—someone loud, someone who doesn’t ask too many questions.

“What, the bookworm?” Bucky scoffs, raising an eyebrow. But his friends don’t let up, and soon Steve and Sam are egging him on.

“You’re always chasing the same type,” Steve chimes in. “What are you afraid of, that she’d actually challenge you?”

Bucky laughs, rolling his eyes. He knows he should shut it down, but their teasing digs at him, scratching at that competitive edge that’s always lurking just beneath his smirk.

“All right,” Bucky finally says, shrugging. “I’ll do it. One month.”

His friends exchange knowing grins, slapping him on the back. But as soon as the words leave his mouth, Bucky feels a strange knot settle low in his stomach—a feeling he’s not used to. He brushes it off. It’s just a game, a challenge. It’s not like he’s actually going to care.

The next day, you’re tucked into your usual corner in the library, surrounded by a fortress of books. You barely notice him when he walks up, leaning against the edge of the table with a casual confidence that doesn’t match the usual quiet of the space.

“Mind if I join you?” His voice is smooth, low enough that you almost have to lean in to hear him clearly.

You glance up, surprised to see Bucky Barnes standing there, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You’ve seen him around campus—he’s hard to miss with that leather jacket and effortlessly messy hair, the type of guy who always has someone laughing beside him.

“Sure,” you murmur, unsure of what else to say as you move your books aside, offering him a seat. You’re used to people mostly ignoring you here. It’s your refuge, your sanctuary. So when he sits across from you, stretching out as if he belongs there, it feels jarringly out of place.

“You look like you’re buried in work,” he observes, nodding at the mountain of papers in front of you. “What’s got you so busy?”

You hesitate, but something in his easygoing manner convinces you to answer. “Just…assignments. Trying to keep up with everything.” You give him a small smile, your guard still up but feeling oddly curious.

“What’s your major?” he asks, and the question catches you off guard. Most people don’t bother to ask; they assume or don’t care enough to wonder. He listens as you talk about your studies, nodding, asking small questions. Before you know it, you’re telling him more than you intended, falling into an easy rhythm that surprises you.

It becomes a pattern. Over the next few weeks, he finds reasons to run into you—at the coffee shop, in the library, even in the quad between classes. Each time, he stays a little longer, asks a little more, his eyes holding yours with that subtle intensity he wears so well. At first, you’re wary, cautious of his attention. But Bucky is good, easing his way in like he has all the time in the world, his jokes and questions slowly weaving a thread of trust between you two.

And Bucky? He’s surprised at how much he finds himself drawn to you. Each time you laugh, he catches himself watching, feeling something strange and warm unfurl in his chest. There’s a gentleness in you, a quiet intelligence, that keeps him coming back even as he reminds himself this isn’t supposed to mean anything.

But the longer he spends time with you, the more he feels the weight of what he agreed to, creeping up on him every time he catches your smile, every time you look at him like he’s someone worth knowing.

He tells himself it’s just part of the bet. But deep down, he knows he’s starting to cross a line he never meant to touch.

It’s been a few weeks since Bucky started spending time with you, and against every reminder he gives himself, he’s found himself looking forward to it more than he wants to admit. He tells himself it’s harmless—he’s just getting to know you, just finding ways to pass the time. But he knows he’s lying, especially when he starts finding excuses to see you outside of the library or when he catches himself glancing at his phone, hoping for a text from you.

One night, back at the frat house, he’s lounging with Sam and Steve again, half-listening to their conversation when Sam nudges him.

“So, Barnes. How’s it going with the bookworm?” Sam asks with a knowing smirk. Bucky rolls his eyes, trying to brush it off, but Sam isn’t so easily deterred. “Don’t tell me you’re catching feelings.”

Bucky scoffs, forcing a laugh to keep the truth buried. “It’s going fine. Like I said, a month’s no problem.”

Sam exchanges a glance with Steve, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Let’s make this interesting then. If you really want to win this thing, you’ve got to take it further.”

Bucky’s jaw clenches. “Further?” He has a bad feeling about where this is going.

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Come on, Buck. You’ve been hanging out with her, sure, but we’re talking about actually making her fall for you. Ask her out, and, you know—” He raises an eyebrow meaningfully.

“Sleep with her,” Sam adds bluntly, laughing. “Seal the deal, and there’s two hundred bucks in it for you.”

Bucky hesitates, that uncomfortable knot tightening in his stomach again. He tells himself it’s just a stupid bet. He’s done things like this before—gotten close to people just to prove he could, had plenty of meaningless hookups that never meant a thing. He’s Bucky Barnes, the guy who doesn’t do commitment or complications. But for some reason, picturing it with you makes him feel…off.

“Fine,” he says after a beat, his voice steady, betraying nothing of the uncertainty he’s trying to ignore. “Two hundred bucks. Done.”

The next day, he texts you, his fingers hovering over the keys a little too long before he finally sends, Hey, you free Friday? Let me take you out somewhere nice.

When you see his message, your heart skips a beat. It’s been a while since anyone has asked you on an actual date, and even longer since you’ve felt genuinely excited about someone. Bucky’s been different from the start—warm, attentive, and surprisingly easy to talk to. You’ve caught yourself looking forward to his company, replaying the moments he laughs at one of your jokes or leans in close enough for you to catch a hint of his cologne.

After a second, you type back, Yeah, I’d love to! You add a smiley face, feeling almost giddy as you press send.

The days leading up to Friday drag by, each one marked with bursts of nerves and anticipation. You spend a little more time getting ready than usual, finally deciding on a simple but pretty dress that makes you feel confident. When Bucky picks you up, his usual leather jacket replaced with a dark button-up, you feel a thrill of excitement. He looks genuinely happy to see you, his eyes scanning over you appreciatively as he gives you a lopsided grin.

“You look amazing,” he says, his gaze warm. There’s something softer in his eyes, something that makes you blush.

“Thanks,” you mumble, smiling as you walk beside him. He leads you to a small Italian place tucked away from campus, the kind of cozy, dimly lit restaurant you wouldn’t have expected him to know about. The conversation flows easily between you two, laughter spilling out as you talk about classes, hometowns, and childhood memories.

The night feels magical, almost surreal, and you start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, there’s something real here. Every time his hand brushes against yours, a spark shoots up your spine. And when he reaches across the table, fingers lightly grazing your wrist as he laughs at something you said, your heart flutters in a way that’s both thrilling and terrifying.

After dinner, he suggests taking a walk, and soon you’re strolling through the quiet streets, the chill of the night air making you shiver just slightly. Without a word, Bucky slips his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. It feels so natural, like you belong there.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been on a date this nice,” you admit, smiling up at him, your voice soft.

He chuckles, though it sounds slightly strained. “Really? I find that hard to believe.”

You shrug, trying to brush it off. “I guess I’ve just never…met anyone like you before.”

There’s a flash of something in his eyes—guilt, maybe, or regret. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced with that charming grin. He steps closer, his arm slipping from your shoulders, and you hold your breath as he cups your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

“You’re pretty amazing, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice low.

You feel like the world has stopped, your heart pounding in your chest. This is the moment you’ve been dreaming of, the moment where everything finally falls into place.

But for Bucky, something sharp and painful twists inside him. He can feel the weight of what he’s doing pressing down on him, can see the way your eyes look at him with such unguarded trust, and it’s enough to make his stomach turn. He’s never felt guilty over a stupid bet before, but right now, the idea of hurting you feels unbearable.

“Hey,” he says softly, his hand still on your cheek. “You trust me, right?”

Your eyes widen, and you nod slowly, too caught up in the moment to notice the tension in his gaze. “Yeah,” you whisper, a small smile forming on your lips.

He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours as he takes a steadying breath. “Good,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady. Because if he’s going to go through with this, he tells himself he has to believe that none of it matters—that he won’t let himself care. But even as he kisses you, his lips soft and warm against yours, he knows he’s lying to himself.

The days after that first date drift into a series of moments that feel surreal, almost like they’re happening to someone else. You find yourself checking your phone at odd times, waiting for his texts, smiling down at your screen whenever his name lights up. Bucky is a part of your routine now, and it feels strange, thrilling even, like there’s this magnetic force that draws you to him despite every bit of caution you try to hold onto.

Every time you’re with him, the outside world fades. He makes you laugh with stories about his friends, leaning in close, his voice warm and low as if he’s sharing some secret just for you. You catch yourself stealing glances when he’s not looking—at the way his jaw clenches when he’s lost in thought or how his eyes soften when he looks at you, a mix of curiosity and something you can’t quite name.

It’s after one of your study sessions at the library that Bucky invites you over to his dorm room for the first time. He tells you he’s got some old movies you’ve probably never seen, and, honestly, he’s right—you’d never pictured Bucky as the type to own black-and-white classics, but that’s exactly what he has, a surprisingly large collection lined up on a low shelf near his TV. He insists you pick one, and soon you’re sitting side by side on his couch, your legs tucked up beneath you, feeling almost shy in the soft glow of the screen.

The movie starts, but his arm stretches along the back of the couch, barely brushing your shoulders. The faintest touch sends electricity through you, but you stay quiet, not wanting to ruin the moment. Then, halfway through the movie, he shifts, glancing at you.

“You can get closer, you know,” he murmurs, his eyes glinting with something mischievous yet gentle.

Your heart flutters as you scoot closer, until you’re tucked into his side, his arm draped around you in a way that feels possessive yet comforting. He smells faintly like cedar and something distinctly him, a scent that’s becoming familiar. Before you know it, your head is resting on his shoulder, his hand absently tracing patterns on your arm, and you feel like you could stay there forever.

Time slips by in a collection of small, perfect moments. There are more dates—little coffee shops tucked away from campus, a bookstore where he buys you a copy of a novel you mentioned in passing, a late-night diner where you both end up after laughing so hard that you can’t breathe. You never expected him to be so attentive, so eager to listen to your stories and learn every detail about your life. He even surprises you with your favorite snack on study nights, tossing it to you with a grin before leaning in close to steal a bite for himself.

One evening, after a long day of classes and a surprise text from Bucky inviting you over, you find yourself curled up on his couch once again. This time, he’s stretched out beside you, one arm tucked under his head while the other rests around your shoulders. His fingers brush against your arm absently, and you can’t help but notice how natural this feels. It’s terrifying, too, the way he seems to melt into your life so effortlessly, as if he’s always been there.

You glance up at him, catching him mid-laugh as he recounts an embarrassing story about Sam, who apparently tried to show off on a skateboard and ended up with a sprained ankle.

“You’re terrible,” you tease, nudging him with your shoulder, though you’re laughing too.

“Oh, come on. It was hilarious,” he insists, grinning down at you. He tilts his head, his gaze dropping to your lips for just a second, and your laughter fades as something shifts between you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask softly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He shrugs, the corner of his mouth twitching in a faint smile. “I just…can’t believe you’re real sometimes.”

The words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you’re too stunned to reply. But then he leans down, his lips brushing yours with a tenderness that makes your chest ache. The kiss deepens slowly, each touch feeling like a promise, and you lose yourself in the warmth of his embrace, forgetting every doubt, every insecurity that ever kept you guarded.

As the weeks pass, you find yourself falling harder than you ever expected. Bucky seems to find every crack in your armor, every scar and hidden fear, and instead of pulling away, he draws closer, listening to your stories and letting you into his own in ways that leave you breathless. He’s there to listen on your tough days, wrapping his arms around you and murmuring words of reassurance. He’s there on your good days, too, laughing with you, pressing kisses to your forehead as if he can’t believe his luck.

One night, you’re back on his couch, cuddled up under a thick blanket as a storm rages outside, the rain tapping against the windows. You’re nestled against him, his arm holding you close, and he’s quiet, his fingers tracing patterns along your shoulder absentmindedly.

“Bucky?” you ask, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Hmm?” he murmurs, his gaze dropping to yours, his eyes soft and warm in the dim light.

“Thank you,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. “For everything.”

He frowns slightly, shifting so he can look at you fully. “You don’t have to thank me for that,” he says, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Being with you…it’s the easiest thing in the world.”

You smile, warmth spreading through your chest, and he kisses you again, slow and soft, like he’s savoring every second. It’s moments like this that make you feel like maybe, just maybe, you’re finally safe with someone, that this is something real.

But for Bucky, each moment with you is a double-edged sword. He’s never felt this way before—this calm, this…connected. Every time you laugh at one of his jokes or lean against him, trusting and unguarded, he feels that awful twist of guilt, the memory of that stupid bet lurking in the back of his mind.

He’s supposed to ask for more. That’s what Sam and Steve were expecting, weren’t they? They wanted him to win the bet, to seal the deal and prove he could pull this off. But every time he thinks about going further, about pushing this relationship into a place where he can’t turn back, he feels that nagging ache, that quiet, gnawing feeling that he’s crossing a line he can’t uncross.

He knows he needs to tell you. He needs to come clean, but every time he opens his mouth, the words get stuck in his throat. You look at him with those bright, trusting eyes, and he can’t bring himself to shatter the way you see him. So he holds his silence, hoping that somehow, he can bury the truth forever, that maybe you’ll never have to know.

One evening, as you’re lying together on his couch, you let out a contented sigh, resting your head on his chest as his hand traces lazy patterns along your back.

“Bucky?” you whisper, your voice soft.

He glances down at you, his fingers pausing as he meets your gaze. “Yeah?”

You hesitate, then take a steadying breath. “I…I think I’m falling for you.”

The words hang in the air, vulnerable and open, and for a second, his face goes still, his eyes widening just slightly. Then, his expression softens, and he tightens his arms around you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“You have no idea how much that means to me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. But as he kisses you, the warmth of his touch hiding the flicker of guilt behind his eyes, a single thought haunts him.

She deserves the truth.

That night, Bucky barely sleeps, lying awake with the knowledge that he’s in far too deep to ever come out of this unscathed. Every soft breath you take beside him reminds him of how much he’s risking by staying silent. He knows he has to tell you, but he’s terrified—terrified that this fragile, beautiful thing you’ve built together will shatter, that you’ll look at him with betrayal instead of trust.

In the morning, he makes a decision. He’ll find a way to tell you, he promises himself, but he wants one more day, one more memory before he risks everything. Just one last perfect day where he can pretend that none of it was ever a lie.

So he takes you out, leading you down to the pier just as the sun begins to set, casting the sky in hues of pink and gold. You laugh, leaning into him, and he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmur, watching the waves lap against the shore.

“Yeah,” he replies, his voice soft. “It is.”

But as he stands there, holding you close, he knows that the beauty of this moment is fleeting, that the truth waiting in his chest is too big to ignore. And tonight, when he finally gathers the courage to tell you, he knows there’s a chance he’ll lose you forever. But for now, he lets himself savor this last quiet moment, memorizing the feeling of you in his arms, the warmth of your laughter as it fills the air.

For now, he holds onto the hope that maybe, somehow, you’ll understand.

The sunset fades, leaving the world painted in muted purples and blues, but neither of you seem ready to break away from each other. Bucky holds you close, feeling the steady rhythm of your breath against his chest as if it’s his own. He knows he should say something—that he needs to say something—but the words seem so impossible now, tangled up in his chest. The truth would ruin this moment, shatter whatever he’s built with you. And so, he tells himself it can wait just a little longer.

As the evening slips into night, Bucky leads you back to his dorm room, his hand intertwined with yours. You can feel the heat of his palm, the way his fingers wrap around yours as if he never wants to let go. The air feels charged, every touch electric, each shared glance simmering with something that feels fragile and exhilarating. Neither of you says much, as though speaking would break the quiet spell between you.

Once you’re inside, Bucky hesitates. He turns to you, his expression vulnerable, softer than you’ve ever seen it. "You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand.

“I want to,” you say, the words escaping before you can even think. There’s no hesitation in your voice, only a gentle certainty that makes his chest tighten. The way you look at him, so open and trusting, makes his heart ache with a mix of guilt and longing.

Bucky’s eyes search yours, lingering for a moment that stretches into forever. He reaches up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before his fingers trail down to your jaw, cradling your face as if you’re something fragile and precious. Slowly, he leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s softer than any before. It’s unhurried, tender, as if he’s savoring every second.

The kiss deepens, and you can feel yourself melting into him, your heart pounding so hard you think it might burst. His hands move to your waist, steady and grounding, and he pulls you closer until there’s no space left between you. You can feel the strength of him, the warmth radiating through his clothes, and it makes your head spin.

Before long, you find yourselves tangled together on his bed, the world outside fading into nothingness. Each kiss is deeper than the last, each touch laced with a longing neither of you can deny. There’s a gentleness to Bucky’s movements, a quiet patience as he explores the curve of your shoulder, the softness of your waist, as if he’s memorizing every inch of you. He’s slow and careful, constantly looking at you as if to make sure this is what you want.

“Are you okay?” he whispers, his voice rough with barely-contained emotion.

You nod, feeling breathless but certain. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

His eyes darken, filled with a tenderness that makes your chest ache, and then he’s kissing you again, deeper this time, his hands skimming over your skin with a reverence that leaves you feeling cherished. You lose track of time, surrendering to the way he makes you feel—safe, wanted, like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

When you finally fall back against the bed, your bodies wrapped around each other, you’re exhausted yet filled with a warmth that feels all-encompassing. The reality of what just happened settles in, but instead of feeling nervous, you feel at peace, secure in the quiet intimacy that has grown between you.

Bucky shifts beside you, pulling you closer until your head rests against his chest, his arm draped protectively around your shoulders. The steady thump of his heartbeat lulls you into a peaceful daze, and you feel his fingers trace small circles on your back, soothing and grounding.

You’re both quiet for a long time, the silence comfortable as you bask in each other’s presence. Eventually, though, you feel a need to tell him something you’ve been holding back, something you hadn’t planned on revealing but that feels right to share in this moment.

“Bucky,” you begin softly, lifting your head to look at him. He gazes down at you, his eyes warm and attentive, as if you’re the only thing he sees. “I…I want you to know that this was my first time.”

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, you’re afraid he’ll pull away, that he’ll think you were too inexperienced or that you should have told him sooner. But he doesn’t flinch or hesitate. His hand moves up to gently cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin.

“Your first?” he echoes, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and something that sounds almost like reverence.

You nod, feeling your cheeks heat as you look down, suddenly self-conscious. “Yeah…I wanted it to be with someone who made me feel safe. Someone I trusted.”

Bucky’s chest rises and falls slowly as he takes this in, his expression softening. He seems almost humbled, like he’s just been given something rare and delicate. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before resting his own against yours.

“You have no idea how much that means to me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. There’s a vulnerability in his gaze, as if he’s holding back a hundred things he wants to say but can’t find the words for.

You smile, the last traces of your nervousness melting away. “Thank you, Bucky…for making it so special.”

He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you like he’s afraid to let you go. “I’d do anything to make you feel special,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

You nestle into his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling safe and cherished in a way you never have before. And as you lie there, drifting between sleep and wakefulness, you wonder if this is what it feels like to be truly, deeply in love.

But as you fall asleep in his arms, Bucky lies awake, his heart heavy with the weight of everything he’s kept from you. He knows he should be content, that he should just let himself savor this night and the closeness you’ve shared. But the memory of that stupid, careless bet gnaws at him, a dark cloud looming over everything.

He runs a hand through his hair, staring up at the ceiling, feeling torn between the desire to protect you from the truth and the fear that he’s already crossed a line he can’t uncross. The realization that you trusted him enough to give him something so deeply personal makes the weight of his lie even heavier, almost unbearable. He swallows hard, tightening his hold on you as he resolves to tell you the truth—soon, somehow, even if it means risking everything.

But tonight, he lets himself stay silent. He closes his eyes, breathing in the scent of your hair, the warmth of your body against his, and allows himself to believe, if only for a moment, that this can last.

The morning sunlight filters softly through the blinds, casting warm, golden patterns across the bed. You stir beside him, your movements gentle as you wake up, and Bucky watches you with a quiet awe, his heart racing as he takes in the peaceful expression on your face. For a moment, it feels like he’s exactly where he’s meant to be.

You blink up at him, your face lighting up with a sleepy smile that makes his chest tighten.

“Good morning,” you murmur, your voice soft and a little shy, as if the night is still too fresh, too beautiful to fully believe.

He grins, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Morning,” he replies, his voice low and warm. His fingers trail down to your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, and you squeeze back, a shared moment of silent understanding passing between you.

The morning stretches on in a gentle haze of quiet touches and soft words. Bucky makes you coffee, insisting you stay curled up under his blanket while he brings it over to you, and you laugh, watching him with a mix of affection and disbelief. This side of him—the playful, thoughtful side—is something you never expected to see, and it makes you fall for him even harder.

You’re both lounging on his bed, your legs tangled together, talking in low voices about everything and nothing. He tells you stories about his childhood, tales about him and Steve getting into trouble, and you share your own memories, laughing as he reacts with wide eyes and exaggerated shock.

It feels so real, so natural, that you almost forget about everything outside this room, about the possibility that this could be something fleeting. You feel like you’ve found a place that’s safe, a person who makes you feel more like yourself than you ever have before.

But in the quiet moments, when you catch him staring at you with that far-off look, you wonder if there’s something he’s not telling you, a hesitation lurking behind his gaze. You don’t press, not wanting to shatter the peace between you. But part of you wonders if you’re seeing a glimpse of something deeper, something you’re not yet ready to confront.

As you leave his dorm room later that morning, he kisses you softly, lingering as if he’s trying to memorize the taste of your lips, the feel of your hand in his. There’s an unspoken promise in his touch, a silent assurance that this isn’t the end.

Later that afternoon, you make your way back to the frat house, humming softly as you climb the steps to Bucky's door. You left your notebook there, a little blue book you’re pretty sure you’ll need for your upcoming assignment. You barely slept last night, too caught up in the warmth of his touch, the memory of his whispered words that lingered long after you left his dorm this morning. You’re nervous, too; you feel so much for him that it scares you.

As you approach his room, laughter drifts out into the hallway, low voices filtering through the partially open door. You recognize Bucky’s laugh, the familiar sound stirring warmth in your chest, but the laughter feels different, carefree and loud. And then you hear a familiar voice—Sam’s—cutting through, low and joking.

"Guess she fell for it pretty hard, huh?" Sam’s voice sounds amused, lighthearted, as if he’s talking about something trivial.

You freeze, your hand hovering inches from the door. Something about his tone makes you hesitate, a strange, unsettling feeling creeping into your chest.

"Come on, Bucky," Sam presses, “don’t act all innocent now. I saw you this morning, looking like you just won the lottery.” You can hear the grin in his voice, a laugh bubbling beneath it. “So? How was it?”

Bucky laughs, the sound uncomfortable, but he doesn’t argue. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, his voice casual, light. “It was… good.”

You feel a stab in your chest, a faint panic that tells you to leave, to walk away before you hear any more. But your feet don’t move, and you find yourself listening, every word driving another splinter into your heart.

Steve’s voice joins in, chuckling. “Well, you earned it, man. She had no clue, huh?”

“No clue,” Bucky murmurs, his voice softer now, almost unreadable. You can picture him there, maybe rubbing the back of his neck the way he does when he’s nervous. But the words are there, undeniable.

Sam laughs again, louder this time. “And hey, bet’s a bet,” he says, and then there’s a pause before you hear the unmistakable rustling of bills being exchanged. “Two hundred dollars, as promised. Can’t say you didn’t earn it, though—you even managed to get her into bed. Didn’t think you had it in you, but here we are!”

Your vision blurs, the words echoing in your mind, distorting into something raw and jagged. Every affectionate touch, every gentle kiss, every whispered promise from the past few weeks twists into something ugly, something unrecognizable. You feel sick, the image of Bucky’s earnest smile, his soft words about wanting to make you feel special, tainted beyond repair. Everything you felt for him, the trust you’d handed him so freely, crumbles beneath the weight of their laughter.

Slowly, you turn and leave, gripping the strap of your bag tightly as you make your way out of the frat house. You don’t let yourself cry, not yet, not when you still feel the echo of his betrayal throbbing in your chest, too raw, too painful to acknowledge fully.

Hours later, you’re back in your dorm room, your heart aching as you sit in silence, the truth settling over you in waves. Part of you wants to believe it was a misunderstanding, that maybe there’s an explanation you’re missing. But the memory of their laughter, the casual way Sam handed him that money, makes the truth impossible to ignore.

A knock on your door interrupts your thoughts, and your heart skips a beat as you hear Bucky’s voice calling your name softly from the hallway. It’s just him now, his voice hesitant, almost as if he senses that something’s wrong. You take a steadying breath, steeling yourself before you answer the door.

When you open it, Bucky’s eyes light up, and he steps forward, a soft smile on his face as he reaches for your hand. “Hey, you,” he murmurs, his voice warm. But when he sees the look on your face, he pauses, his smile fading. “What’s wrong?”

For a moment, you can’t bring yourself to speak. You can only look at him, trying to reconcile the gentle, caring person you thought you knew with the man who took a bet to seduce you. You pull your hand away from his, ignoring the confusion in his gaze as he watches you.

“Were you even going to tell me?” Your voice comes out quieter than you intended, a dull ache threading through every word. “Or were you just going to take the money and pretend it never happened?”

Bucky blinks, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Tell you what? I—I don’t understand.”

A bitter laugh escapes your lips, and you look away, wrapping your arms around yourself as if it’ll keep you from falling apart. “Don’t play dumb, Bucky. I heard you. I was at the frat house earlier, and I heard everything.”

He freezes, his face going pale, and you see the truth in his eyes, clear as day. He opens his mouth, stumbling over his words. “Y/N, I—I didn’t… I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.”

The admission twists the knife deeper, and you feel yourself trembling as you look back at him, tears stinging your eyes. “So, it’s true, then? All of it? This whole… this whole thing was just for some stupid bet?”

He reaches for you, his expression desperate, his hands hovering just inches from your arms. “Y/N, please. Just let me explain. It wasn’t like that, I swear. It started that way, but then… then it became real. I fell for you, okay? Everything we did, everything we shared—it was real.”

You shake your head, pulling away from him, the anger and betrayal simmering beneath the surface. “Real? You think that makes this okay? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Your voice breaks, and a tear slips down your cheek before you can stop it. “I trusted you, Bucky. I thought… I thought you cared about me.”

His face crumples, and he takes a step closer, his hand reaching out as if to wipe away the tear on your cheek. “I do care about you. More than anything, Y/N. That’s why I wanted to tell you, I just—”

“Wanted to tell me?” you interrupt, your voice shaking. “When, Bucky? After you cashed in your winnings? After I found out on my own?”

The silence stretches between you, heavy and unbearable, and Bucky’s shoulders sag as he looks away, guilt etched deeply into his face.

“Do you even realize how humiliating this is?” you continue, your voice a mixture of anger and heartbreak. “I trusted you with something… something I’d never given anyone. And the whole time, it was just part of a game to you.”

His eyes snap back to yours, filled with anguish, his voice barely a whisper. “It was never just a game, not after the first night. I swear, Y/N, I was going to tell you everything. I just… I didn’t want to lose you.”

“You didn’t want to lose me?” you repeat, laughing bitterly. “You lost me the moment you made that bet. You had no right to… to play with me like that, to make me believe that any of it was real.”

He looks at you, his blue eyes full of desperation, his voice breaking. “Y/N, please. I know I messed up. I know I hurt you, but I need you to believe me when I say I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“Just stop,” you whisper, the weight of it all crashing over you. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to make me feel sorry for you when you’re the one who lied.”

Bucky’s face falls, and he drops his gaze, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I know. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But please, just… give me a chance to make it right.”

Your heart aches, torn between the memories of every gentle touch, every whispered word, and the undeniable truth of his betrayal. Part of you wants to believe him, wants to believe that somewhere in all of this, there was something real. But the pain is too deep, the wound too fresh, and you don’t know if you can ever look at him the same way again.

“I can’t do this,” you say, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I can’t just forget what you did. You hurt me, Bucky. And right now, I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

He flinches, as if your words physically hurt him, and he nods slowly, a look of resignation in his eyes. “I understand. I’ll… I’ll leave, if that’s what you want.”

You nod, wrapping your arms around yourself as he takes a step back, his gaze lingering on you one last time before he turns and walks toward the door. Just as he reaches it, he pauses, his hand resting on the doorknob as he glances back at you, his voice soft, broken.

“For what it’s worth, Y/N… I love you. I know I don’t deserve to say that, but it’s the truth.”

You don’t reply, staring at him with tear-filled eyes as he finally steps out of your dorm, the door closing softly behind him. The silence that follows is deafening, and you sink to the floor, the weight of everything crashing down as you realize that the person you thought you loved never truly existed.

The days blur together in a haze of heartbreak and emptiness. You go through the motions, attending classes, completing assignments, and showing up to study groups, but it all feels mechanical, like you’re on autopilot. It’s as if something inside you has shut down, leaving only an echo of who you were before you met him, before he became the center of your world.

It doesn’t take long for your friends to notice the change. They ask if you’re okay, if something happened, if maybe you just need a break. But you give them the same answer each time—a nod, a small smile, and an assurance that you’re just tired. It’s easier than explaining the mess of emotions tangled inside you, the hurt that seems too big to fit into words.

Late at night, lying alone in your dorm room, you can still feel the warmth of his arms around you, the softness of his voice in the quiet hours when he’d whisper promises you thought would last forever. The memory feels cruel now, tainted by the knowledge that it was all built on a lie. And yet, despite everything, you miss him. You hate yourself for it, but you miss the way he looked at you, the way he made you feel safe, special, as if you were the only person in the world who mattered.

Bucky isn’t doing any better. In fact, he’s a mess. Days have passed, but the guilt, the emptiness—it lingers, gnawing at him, refusing to let him move on. He can barely sleep, haunted by the look in your eyes, the betrayal, the hurt he put there. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees you, hears the way your voice cracked when you told him you didn’t know who he was anymore. And the worst part is, he doesn’t blame you. He knows he did this, that he ruined everything, and now he has to live with the consequences.

Sam and Steve notice almost immediately. Bucky, the confident, charming guy they’d known for years, looks hollow, as if he’s carrying a weight he can’t shake. He barely speaks, keeps to himself, and they rarely see him at the frat house anymore. Instead, he spends most of his time shut up in his dorm, a shadow of the person he used to be.

One evening, as the sun dips below the horizon, Sam and Steve exchange a glance, silently agreeing that they need to intervene. They knock on his door, and when he doesn’t answer, Sam pushes it open, finding him lying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Hey, man,” Sam says, stepping inside. Steve follows, closing the door behind them as they both approach Bucky’s bed.

Bucky doesn’t react right away, his gaze still fixed on the ceiling. But eventually, he sits up, running a hand through his hair, looking exhausted and defeated.

“What’s up, guys?” he mumbles, though his voice lacks any real curiosity.

“We should be asking you that,” Steve says, his tone softer than usual. “You haven’t been yourself lately. Ever since things ended with Y/N, it’s like… you’re a completely different person.”

At the sound of your name, Bucky’s face falls, and he lets out a long, shaky breath. “Yeah,” he says quietly, almost to himself. “That’s because I am.”

Sam frowns, studying Bucky’s expression, the guilt etched into every line of his face. “Look, man, we didn’t mean for things to get this serious. But if you cared about her, really cared… why didn’t you just tell her the truth from the start?”

Bucky shakes his head, his hands gripping the edge of the bed so tightly his knuckles turn white. “I don’t know,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “I was scared, I guess. I knew I’d screwed up, and every time I tried to tell her, I just… couldn’t. I thought I could fix things, somehow, make it up to her without her ever finding out.” He lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Stupid, right?”

Steve sighs, sitting beside him on the bed. “Not stupid, just… a mistake. A big one, yeah, but you’re not the first guy to mess up. You’re just… Bucky, this isn’t like you. I’ve never seen you like this over anyone before.”

Bucky looks away, a sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That’s because I’ve never felt this way before. Not like this. I love her, Steve. And I threw it all away over some stupid bet that meant nothing. I hurt her in ways I can’t even fix.”

Sam places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “So what are you gonna do about it? You can’t just sit here, wallowing. If she meant that much to you, then maybe you owe it to her—and to yourself—to try and make it right.”

Bucky laughs, but it’s empty, hollow. “And how am I supposed to do that, Sam? She told me herself she doesn’t know who I am. She doesn’t trust me. I don’t deserve another chance.”

Steve exchanges a look with Sam, and then he says, “Maybe. But you can’t just give up without trying. If you really love her, Bucky, you have to prove it. Show her that you’re not just the guy who hurt her, that you’re willing to fight for her. And if she doesn’t take you back… at least you’ll know you tried.”

Bucky sighs, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stares at the floor. “I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive me. I don’t even know if I deserve it.”

Sam crosses his arms, his expression softening. “Look, man, I get that you’re hurting. But don’t you think she’s hurting, too? She’s probably out there feeling just as broken, wondering if anything between you was ever real.”

Bucky swallows hard, his chest tightening at the thought. He knows you’re hurting, knows you trusted him with something precious, something he didn’t deserve. And knowing that he’s the reason for your pain… it’s a feeling he wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Over the next few days, Bucky wrestles with himself, caught between the fear of making things worse and the desire to show you that he’s truly sorry, that he wants to be the man you thought he was. He writes and rewrites texts he never sends, shows up outside your dorm but never works up the courage to knock. He’s terrified, but he can’t ignore the way his heart aches for you, the empty, gnawing feeling that only seems to grow with each passing day.

Finally, he decides to try one last time. He doesn’t know if you’ll listen, doesn’t know if you’ll even give him a chance. But he has to try—to give you the truth, no matter how painful it might be.

And so, as the evening sun begins to dip below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over campus, Bucky finds himself standing outside your dorm, his heart pounding as he gathers the courage to knock. He knows this is his last chance, that this is the moment that will decide everything. And he only hopes, as he takes a deep breath and raises his hand to the door, that you’ll give him the chance to show you that he’s not the man who hurt you—that he’s ready to fight for you, no matter what it takes.

The knock on your door is soft, almost hesitant, but it’s enough to pull you from your thoughts. You’ve been lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to find the strength to move forward, to somehow patch yourself up after everything that happened. When you open the door, you see him standing there, his eyes filled with an uncertainty that’s almost heartbreaking. He’s gripping a small notebook in his hands—your notebook, the one you left in his room—and his gaze is fixed on you with a desperation you’ve never seen before.

“Hi,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You don’t reply right away, the sight of him dredging up the familiar ache in your chest. Part of you wants to slam the door and hide, to keep yourself safe from any more hurt. But you don’t. Instead, you meet his gaze, forcing yourself to remain steady.

“Hi,” you reply, your voice guarded.

He shifts on his feet, glancing down at the notebook before offering it to you. “I, uh… you left this. Thought you might need it.”

You take it from him, feeling the familiar weight of it in your hands. “Thanks.”

A heavy silence hangs between you, one that neither of you seems willing to break. Bucky swallows, his face creased with an anxious, uncertain look that makes him seem vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen before.

“Can we… can we talk?” he asks, his voice almost pleading. “Please. I know I don’t deserve it, but I just need to say a few things. If you don’t want to listen, I’ll understand, and I’ll leave you alone. I just… I need you to know the truth.”

You hesitate, but finally, you nod, stepping back to let him into your room. He steps inside, closing the door softly behind him, and takes a seat in the small chair by your desk while you remain standing, arms crossed protectively over your chest.

For a moment, he just looks at you, his gaze heavy with regret. Then he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“I know you have every right to hate me,” he starts, his voice barely steady. “I know I messed up in ways I can’t even fix. And I know… I know what I did was horrible. I just—” He swallows, his throat tight. “I just need you to know that it wasn’t all a lie. When we started this… when we first got close, I didn’t expect any of this to happen. I didn’t think I’d feel the way I did.”

You look down, his words stirring a fresh wave of pain in your chest. “But it was a bet, Bucky,” you murmur, your voice trembling. “You… you did all of that just to win some money. To you, it was just a game.”

He flinches, guilt flashing in his eyes, and he nods. “I know. I won’t make excuses for it—I was stupid, and I hurt you. But somewhere along the way, it stopped being about the bet. It stopped being a game. And I started… I started caring about you, more than I’ve ever cared about anyone.”

You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you force yourself to keep your voice steady. “Then why didn’t you just tell me the truth?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair again, his expression tortured. “Because I was scared. I was terrified that you’d look at me the way you’re looking at me now, that I’d lose you. I know that doesn’t make it better, but it’s the truth. I tried to find the right time, tried to find the right words, but I kept putting it off, thinking maybe… maybe I could make it up to you before you ever found out.” He looks down, his voice breaking. “But that was stupid. I should’ve just been honest with you from the start.”

You take a shaky breath, feeling the full weight of everything he’s saying. Part of you wants to believe him, wants to forgive him, but the wound he left is still fresh, still raw. “I trusted you, Bucky,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “I thought… I thought what we had was real.”

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with a desperate sincerity that takes you off guard. “It was real. For me, it was real. And I know that doesn’t change anything, but I need you to know that. I never meant to hurt you, and I’ll spend as long as it takes to make it up to you if you’ll let me.”

You study him for a long moment, searching his face, trying to find some indication of sincerity, something to show that he’s truly sorry. And when you see the remorse in his eyes, the sadness that mirrors your own, you feel something in your chest soften, just slightly.

“Bucky,” you begin softly, forcing yourself to stay strong, “I can’t just go back to how things were. I can’t pretend this didn’t happen. You hurt me more than anyone ever has, and it’s going to take time for me to get past that.”

He nods, his expression resigned, but he doesn’t look away. “I understand. And I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. I just… I just want the chance to prove to you that I’m more than the guy who hurt you. Even if we can’t go back, I want to be there for you, even if it’s just as a friend.”

You let his words sink in, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the ache in your heart. Part of you still longs for what you had, for the closeness you shared, but you know that you can’t rush back into it. If Bucky truly wants a second chance, he’ll have to earn it, piece by piece, day by day.

“Maybe…” You hesitate, feeling vulnerable but determined. “Maybe we can start as friends. Just… friends. No promises, no expectations. If you’re willing to do that, to rebuild things from the ground up… then maybe, someday, I’ll be able to trust you again.”

Relief floods his face, and he nods, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll take that. Anything you’re willing to give, I’ll take it. I’ll prove to you that I can be better. I’ll prove that I’m worth your trust.”

You give him a tentative smile, and for the first time in days, you feel a flicker of hope. It’s small and fragile, but it’s enough to remind you that maybe healing is possible.

Over the next few weeks, Bucky becomes a constant but careful presence in your life. He shows up when you need help with an assignment, offers a listening ear when you need to vent about a long day, and joins you for coffee on campus, keeping the conversation light and easy. He respects your boundaries, never pushing for more, never expecting anything beyond friendship. You’re surprised at how attentive he is, how willing he is to wait, to prove that he’s serious about making things right.

Slowly, the walls around your heart begin to crack. You start to feel comfortable with him again, to let your guard down, if only a little. You catch him glancing at you sometimes, a soft, almost wistful look in his eyes, as if he’s seeing something precious he thought he’d lost forever. It’s in these moments that you remember why you fell for him in the first place, why his smile used to make your heart race, why his touch felt like home.

One day, as you’re both sitting on a bench by the campus pond, he turns to you, a hesitant smile on his face. “I know we’re just friends right now, and I’m okay with that. But I want you to know that I’m grateful for every moment I get to spend with you, even if it’s just like this.”

You feel a warmth spread through you, a sense of peace you haven’t felt in a long time. “Thank you, Bucky,” you say softly. “For not giving up. For being patient with me.”

He reaches out, hesitating for a moment before resting his hand on yours, his touch warm and steady. “I’ll wait as long as it takes. I’ll prove to you that I’m here for you, no matter what.”

And as you look into his eyes, you feel a flicker of something you thought was lost—a tentative, fragile hope that maybe things could be different this time. That he could truly be the person he’s trying to be, the person you wanted him to be all along. And though you know there’s a long road ahead, you’re finally willing to take that first step with him, trusting that maybe, this time, he won’t let you down.

The night is alive with music and laughter as you step into the crowded frat house. It’s your first time back here since everything happened, and you can’t deny the nervous flutter in your stomach as you take in the familiar scene. But tonight feels different—Bucky is by your side, watching you with a gentle smile as he guides you through the chaos of people, his hand warm and steady on your arm.

Over the past few weeks, things between you and Bucky have been slowly mending. He’s proven himself time and time again, showing up when it mattered, respecting your boundaries, and never pressuring you for more than you were willing to give. He’s become someone you can lean on, someone who’s earned back your trust bit by bit. And, to your own surprise, you feel something new blossoming between you—something deeper, stronger, and more genuine than before.

When you reach the main room, you spot Sam and Steve near the keg, both of them giving you a thumbs-up as soon as they see you with Bucky. You laugh, rolling your eyes, but Bucky just grins, shrugging as if to say, They’re harmless.

“Glad you came tonight,” he says, leaning closer so you can hear him over the noise. “I was worried you might skip.”

You shrug, glancing up at him. “Well, I figured it was about time I faced the frat house again.”

He chuckles, a warm, rich sound that sends a spark of something familiar through you. It’s the same feeling you used to get when you first met, when you were just getting to know him, before anything got complicated. Only now, it feels even better—because you’re finally on solid ground with him, without secrets or lies standing between you.

As the night goes on, you find yourself enjoying the party, laughing with friends, and even dancing a bit. Bucky stays close, his presence a comforting, steady anchor amidst the noise and chaos. He’s attentive, offering you drinks and glancing over every so often to make sure you’re comfortable. And every time you catch his gaze, you feel your heart race just a little faster.

At one point, as you’re talking with a friend, you feel Bucky’s hand gently touch your arm, and he leans in close, his voice soft and intimate against your ear. “Want to get some air?”

You nod, letting him lead you through the throngs of people until you step out onto the back porch. The cool night air is a welcome relief from the warmth inside, and you breathe deeply, taking in the quiet calm of the evening. Bucky leans against the railing, watching you with a soft, almost nervous smile, his hands tucked into his pockets.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you something,” he begins, his voice low and steady, as if he’s thought about this moment a thousand times. “I know we’ve been rebuilding things, and I know you wanted to take it slow. But, Y/N… being with you these past few weeks, even just as friends, has been everything to me. And I can’t stop thinking about you. About us.”

Your heart stirs at his words, and you feel a warmth spread through you, a sense of longing that’s been building quietly since the day he asked for a second chance.

“Bucky,” you say softly, stepping a little closer. “I… I feel the same. It’s been hard, letting go of the past. But I think—no, I know—I’ve forgiven you. You’ve shown me who you really are, and… I like that person.”

His eyes brighten at your words, and he reaches out, his hand brushing your cheek as his thumb strokes gently across your skin. He leans closer, his gaze searching your face as if to make sure you’re truly ready for this.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, his voice barely audible in the quiet night air.

You feel your heart skip a beat, and you give him a small, almost shy nod, your pulse racing as he leans in, closing the distance between you. The moment his lips meet yours, it’s like the world melts away, leaving only the warmth of his touch, the softness of his mouth against yours. It’s gentle at first, tentative, as if he’s afraid of breaking the spell. But as you respond, his hand slips to the back of your neck, pulling you a little closer, deepening the kiss with a quiet, aching intensity.

When you finally pull away, he rests his forehead against yours, both of you catching your breath, sharing a smile that’s equal parts relief and joy.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice full of warmth, “I promise, I’m not going to mess this up again. I want this with you—for real, no games.”

You smile, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “Good, because you’re stuck with me now.”

He laughs, pulling you into a tight hug, and you bury your face in his shoulder, feeling a happiness you haven’t felt in a long time. You’re finally ready to move forward with him, to start fresh, knowing that this time, it’s real.

maybe I should've made it more angsty? I love angst, request angst people! lol

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the-winter-spider · 4 months ago

Text

Say Don't Go | Part One

Pairings: College!Hockey star Bucky x Reader AU

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Nothing really, pining, slight angst,

A/N: Yall, I can't stop with these AU, once i branched out from typical bucky fics 😅 im not sure if this is ant good, lemme know!

The arena is already buzzing as the hockey team files into the rink, everyone pumped for the big game. The team’s warming up, and from where you stand by the bench—water bottles in hand—you can feel the energy building. You’d taken the part-time photography job with the team to help cover college tuition, although at the beginning of the game you felt like a glorified water girl and while it meant juggling practices, games, and studying, it kept you close to your best friend, Steve.

To anyone watching, it would’ve seemed impossible that you and Steve grew up together. He’s a campus legend now, all bulked-up muscle and effortless charisma, captain of the university’s hockey team and the kind of guy people gravitate to without question. Meanwhile, you’re more comfortable with your nose in a book, an introvert who’s used to blending in. But back when you were kids, Steve was this tiny, sickly kid, the one no one really noticed—except for you. He’d always been your closest friend, even back then when it seemed like he’d never catch a break, and you’d been at his side through every scraped knee and cold. Loyalty was everything to Steve.

A couple of the guys on the team stop by to grab water, giving you nods and smiles as they pass. No one messes with you—everyone knows you’re off-limits, thanks to Steve. And that has its perks; it’s like you’re part of this little family, even if you’re not quite one of them. But lately, there’s been someone who’s become more than just another player in your eyes.

You glance up from refilling water bottles just in time to see Bucky Barnes, who’s over by the goal, tugging at his helmet strap. He catches you looking and grins, that easy, almost lazy smile that seems to light up his face effortlessly. You quickly look away, hoping he didn’t notice the warmth creeping up your cheeks.

“Hey, you ready for tonight?” Steve’s voice breaks into your thoughts, and you turn to see him lacing up his skates. He’s grinning, eyes alight with the confidence he’s built over years of hard work.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you reply with a small smile, trying to shake off the flutter in your chest from Bucky’s look.

Steve nudges you with his shoulder. “You know, sometimes I still can’t believe you’re here, working with the team.”

“Oh yeah?” you tease. “You think you’re too cool for me now, Rogers?”

He rolls his eyes but laughs, shaking his head. “Nah, no way. Just crazy to think back when I was the scrawniest kid on the block, you were the only one who’d even talk to me. And look at us now.”

“No Stevie…look at you,” you correct, smiling softly. “Captain of the hockey team. Practically a celebrity, im proud of you”

Steve shrugs, like it doesn’t matter much. “You’re still the one who got me here, you know. Can’t imagine doing this without you.”

It’s moments like these that remind you how much history you and Steve have. To everyone else, he’s untouchable, this strong, confident leader. But to you, he’s still that scrappy kid from Brooklyn who’d rather eat dirt than back down from a fight. And even now, with a dozen people depending on him, he still looks out for you like you’re his whole world.

“Good luck, Captain,” you say, giving him a small, sincere smile as he heads out onto the ice to join the team.

Just before he steps out, Steve pauses, glancing over his shoulder, and gives you a reassuring nod. “Stick around after, alright? You know Bucky would give me hell if you didn’t watch the whole game” There’s a gleam in his eye, something teasing but knowing.

You brush it off with a laugh, shaking your head as he skates off. But that feeling lingers as you turn back to your work, the excitement of the game mixing with something deeper. Because as much as you’re here for Steve, and of course the job..lately, there’s another reason that’s making these nights by the rink more important than ever.

As the game ramps up, you pull out your camera, leaning against the rink’s edge with your viewfinder pressed to your eye. You know deep down that you most likely got this job because of Steve, and it sometimes made you feel inferior that you didn’t get it all on your own accord, anything from Steve would never be malicious, self doubt was a bitch but any chance you get to shoot action shots is another step toward building your portfolio. Tonight, you’re focused, capturing every pass, every block, and, of course, every time Steve goes for a breakaway. But your camera always seems to find Bucky, catching him mid-skate, the intensity in his blue eyes as he lines up for a shot.

And every time he scores, it’s like he can’t help himself—he glances over to where you’re standing, as if he knows exactly where you’ll be. The crowd roars, girls scream his name, yet his gaze always cuts through the chaos, landing right on you for the briefest second before he skates back to his teammates. Each time, your heart stumbles a little, caught off-guard by that piercing blue gaze aimed right at you.

By the end of the game, the team secures a solid win, and the whole arena is alive with celebration. You’ve filled your camera’s memory with shots of the guys looking their best—sweaty, fierce, and triumphant—and even snagged a few shots of Steve and Bucky grinning like maniacs after a particularly close goal. Steve catches your eye from the ice and gives you a thumbs-up, the proud smile on his face making you grin back.

Later, you find yourself at the local bar with the team and some of their friends, the usual spot they head to after a victory. You sit near the back with your drink, watching everyone laugh and trade stories, your camera resting on the table with the freshly captured game photos. Bucky comes over with that same easy, confident grin, sliding into the seat beside you.

“Got some good shots of me tonight?” he teases, tipping his head toward the camera. “You always get my best angles, you know.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Oh, don’t worry, Barnes. I think I got more than enough.”

“Oh yeah? And what do you think?” He leans in, his eyes warm and focused, his voice low. “Did I look good out there?”

Your cheeks flush under his attention, and you struggle to keep your cool. “Not bad, I guess,” you say, trying to be casual. “You only scored three times.”

He chuckles, but his gaze doesn’t leave yours, and you can feel your heart race in that silence that falls between you. There’s something unspoken, a magnetic pull that’s hard to ignore, and for a second, it’s like there’s no one else in the bar.

But the spell breaks when a girl from campus sidles up to Bucky, placing a hand on his shoulder with an almost possessive familiarity. “Bucky! Great game tonight,” she purrs, leaning in close. Bucky turns, flashing her the same easy smile he gave you, and you feel your stomach twist as he starts talking to her, his attention sliding away from you as if nothing happened. He’s charming, just as he is with you, and within seconds, he’s laughing with her, seemingly forgetting you’re even there.

You try to ignore the knot in your chest, focusing on the rim of your glass, but it’s impossible not to notice every time Bucky laughs with her or throws a charming smile in her direction. Other girls come up to him, too, congratulating him and throwing flirty glances, and he returns them all with that same, familiar ease. Each one feels like a little twist of the knife, a reminder that maybe you’re not as special as you thought. The way he looked at you on the rink, those lingering gazes, feels like a cruel joke now, just part of his routine.

When Steve finds you later, you’re staring down at your drink, trying to keep your emotions in check. He slides into the seat beside you, casting a glance over at Bucky, who’s still surrounded by admirers.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Steve says quietly, his eyes understanding. “Bucky…he’s got a lot to figure out, okay? Don’t take it personally.”

You nod, offering a half-hearted smile, but it doesn’t stop the sting. Because as much as you know Bucky’s reputation, you can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was something real behind those looks he kept throwing your way. The kind of look that makes it impossible not to hope for more.

As you watch the guys celebrate the win, Natasha walks into the bar, her presence immediately drawing attention. She’s the girl Steve has been quietly in love with since freshman year, and one of the few people you trust implicitly. Unlike most of the girls on campus, Natasha is genuinely kind to you, never making you feel out of place even though you’re close with the hockey team. She greets you with a warm hug before heading toward the bar, and you see Steve’s gaze shift, his usual confidence faltering as he looks at her like she’s the only person in the room.

You decide it’s time to head out and catch Steve’s attention. “Hey, I think I’m gonna call it a night,” you say, giving him a small smile.

He immediately looks concerned. “You want me to walk you back? It’s late.”

But you catch his gaze drifting toward Natasha, and you can’t help but smile, nudging him. “Go get your girl, Rogers. I’ll be fine.”

Steve grins, his cheeks a little red. “Text me as soon as you get back, alright? Do you still have Find My Friends on?”

“Of course,” you reply with a reassuring smile. “Go on, best of luck.” He wraps you in a tight hug, then heads toward Natasha, glancing back once to make sure you’re okay before diving into a conversation with her.

As you step outside into the chilly night, you take a deep breath, feeling the evening air wash over you. The night is quiet, and you pull your jacket a little tighter as you begin walking back to your dorm. But just as you’re a few steps away, the bar door jingles, and you hear someone calling your name.

Turning around, you see Bucky rushing out, his eyes meeting yours with a playful glint. “You’re just gonna leave like that?” he asks, jogging up to you.

You cross your arms, smirking. “What are you doing? Aren’t you busy flirting with Tiffany?”

He lets out a short laugh, rolling his eyes. “Tiffany? She doesn’t matter to me”

Your stomach does a flip as he says that, and you’re sure he can see the blush creeping up your cheeks, as you breath out loudly “Okay….Why are you here then?”

“Because I saw you leave,” he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And what, you thought I’d just let you walk back alone?”

“Oh, so Steve sent you?” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope,” he says, grinning. “Steve’s a little preoccupied locking lips with a certain redhead in the corner.”

That makes you laugh. “Well, then, I guess I should thank you for taking up the duty.”

He smiles, taking 3 long strides meeting your side “Its not a duty, its an honour”

You were thankful it was a little chilly so the red rising to your cheeks you could play off as coldness from the slight breeze. As you begin to walk side by side, Bucky shrugs out of his varsity hockey jacket and drapes it over your shoulders without a word. The scent of his cologne lingers in the fabric, warm and familiar, and you feel a surge of warmth not just from the jacket but from the gesture itself.

“So,” you say as you fall into step together, “your parents must be proud, huh? Star hockey player, university scholarship…”

Bucky’s expression falters slightly, his usual confidence slipping away. “My parents don’t care much about that kind of stuff,” he admits, his tone soft. “They don’t really… get it. Never come to games or anything.”

You glance over at him, surprised by his honesty. He rarely opens up, and you’re struck by the vulnerability in his voice. “I’m sorry, Bucky,” you say quietly, feeling a pang in your chest. “I didn’t know.”

He shrugs, brushing it off like it’s nothing, but there’s a sadness in his eyes that lingers. “It’s alright. Doesn’t matter much to me anymore. Great friends and company make up for it.”

You nod, feeling the weight of his words. “I get it, you know? My parents could care less about me or anything I do. It sucks, but as long as I have Steve…” You smile sadly, wishing things could be different.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “You two are close.”

“He’s always been there,” you reply, glancing ahead at the dimly lit campus path. “Steve, hes been there through everything, no one knows me or my story better than him...he was the only one who stayed by my side.”

Bucky nods, but a flicker of something crosses his face. “Good friends are important,” he says, his voice low.

You look at him, curious about the thoughts behind his guarded expression. “Yeah, they really are,” you agree, sensing an unspoken weight between you.

Bucky runs a hand through his hair, his usual easygoing demeanor giving way to something more serious. “You just… never know who’ll be there when it counts, you know?”

“True,” you reply, your mind drifting to the fleeting moments of connection that seem so rare in college. “Sometimes it feels like everyone’s just looking out for themselves.”

He nods slowly, his eyes drifting to the ground. “Yeah, exactly.” Bucky stops walking, his gaze focused on the ground. “You deserve someone who’s there for you, not just when it’s convenient,” he says, almost to himself. “You’re too good for that.”

You swallow hard, your heart racing at the implications of his words. “What about you, Bucky? You deserve that too.”

He meets your gaze, and for a moment, the air between you feels charged with something unspoken. “Yeah, but I don’t really do that whole… relationship thing,” he admits, the usual bravado in his voice replaced by something softer.

“Why not?” you ask, curiosity bubbling to the surface.

Bucky runs a hand through his hair, frustration flickering across his features. “It’s complicated. I don’t want to hurt anyone, and I don’t know how to do that without messing it up.”

“Is that why you flirt with every girl in the room?” you tease lightly, trying to lighten the mood, but there’s an edge to your voice that betrays your discomfort.

Bucky chuckles but it’s humorless. “It’s easier to keep things casual. That way, no one gets hurt.”

You stop, your heart racing. “But what if you actually want something more?”

He takes a step closer, the space between you dwindling. “Then maybe I’m just scared I’ll mess it up with the one person who means something to me.”

Before you can respond, laughter erupts from the bar across the street, pulling you both from the moment. Bucky steps back, his hands shoved into his pockets, the weight of unspoken words lingering between you.

The two of you continue walking, the silence between you both comfortable and charged with something unspoken. Every now and then, your arm brushes against his, and he looks at you with that half-smile, the one that always makes your heart skip a beat.

Eventually, you arrive at the entrance to your dorm. The clock on the wall says 11:30, well past the time when boys are allowed inside. You stop just outside the door, turning to face him, and tug his jacket off to hand back to him.

“Thanks for walking me home,” you say softly. “You didn’t have to.”

Bucky grins, tucking his hands into his pockets as he takes a step closer, his gaze locking on yours. “Course I did,” he murmurs. “Couldn’t let a beautiful girl walk across campus by herself, now could I?”

You try to laugh it off, your cheeks warming. “Plenty of other beautiful girls you could’ve walked home instead.”

He takes another step closer, his expression turning serious. “There’s nobody like you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath catches as his hand comes up, his thumb lightly brushing your cheek, tracing a line down to your bottom lip. His touch is gentle, his eyes soft, and for a moment, it feels like the world has narrowed down to just the two of you. The sounds of the night fade away, and all you can feel is his hand on your cheek, his gaze holding yours.

“Goodnight, doll,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing once more over your lip before he pulls away, his touch lingering even as he steps back.

You start to take off his jacket again, but he shakes his head, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “Nah,” he says, “I wanna see you in that tomorrow.”

Before you can respond, he turns and begins to walk back toward the bar, his hands in his pockets, his pace slow and easy. As you open the door to step inside, you glance back one last time, catching sight of him as he spins around, grinning, and gives you a two-finger salute. You laugh, shaking your head as you slip inside, your heart still racing.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes au #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader angst #james barnes x you #james barnes imagine #james barnes fanfiction #Spotify

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kitkatpadywaks · 6 months ago

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Key: 🔥Smut - 💢Angst - ❤️Fluff - 💀Dark Themes - 💕Slow Burn - ❤️‍🩹Hurt/Comfort - ✔️Complete(Series) - ❌Incomplete(Series)

Last Updated: 10th December 2024

Bucky Barnes fic recs | Daryl Dixon fic recs | Arcane fic recs

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onceuponastory · 8 months ago

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wanted dead or alive - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: In a city ruled by the villainous and greedy Sheriff Zemo, a hero emerges - Bucky Barnes. Together with his band of merry men, they steal from the rich and give to the poor. After doing it for a while, he’s come to expect that doing so makes him less than popular with the nobles. But he never expected to meet someone like Lady Y/N. (Robin Hood!AU) Pairing: Outlaw!Bucky Barnes x Noble/Lady!Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of poverty and starvation, period typical sexism and classism, mentions of a potential arranged marriage, reader's parents are assholes, and Bucky and his Merry Men threatening reader at first. But as always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: I've had this idea in the works for a while, and finally got the motivation to finish it. Thank you so much to @mrsmischief209 for helping me work out this idea, for beta reading, and for helping me decide on the Nick Fowler look for Robin Hood!Bucky 👀

Once upon a time, in a city on the outskirts of a forest, Sheriff Zemo ruled with an iron fist, casting fear over the community. Selfish and cruel, he and his henchmen found a twisted pleasure in tormenting the people, whether by having his henchmen be deliberately rough with them, or by imprisoning those who dared to speak out against him. But what brought him the most joy was rising taxes and spending the money on himself and his lavish lifestyle. As the people starved, the Sheriff, his henchmen and the nobles flourished, untouched by his laws.

However, it wasn't long before a hero emerged from the shadows, filled with unwavering determination to aid the people and break free from the relentless grip of poverty. Bucky Barnes, witnessing the people's suffering under the Sheriff's rule, couldn’t bear it anymore, so decided to take action.

It started small - he’d discreetly sneak a few pieces of bread and cheese to people whenever he could without being noticed. As time went on, he upped his skills, and stole more and more food. As time went on, he met various allies who wanted to help his cause: Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, and others. They formed their own band of rebels, aiming to help the people. Bucky’s Merry Men. As they continued to evade capture, Bucky's determination to dismantle the system grew stronger.

Because although it felt incredibly gratifying to help feed the people, that still wasn’t enough. Zemo's men were still freely attacking and tormenting the impoverished city and its people, with no fear of punishment, imprisoning anyone who spoke out. Bucky and his men knew there was still more to do.

So, they started stealing money from the wealthy and giving it back to the poor. And with each new theft, the nobles and higher-ups grew increasingly aware of their actions.

Especially Sheriff Zemo. First, he sent his henchmen out to get them, but each time, they just evaded his grasp, skilled at hiding in the dense trees surrounding the city, Bucky and his men’s archery skills serving them well. Consumed by anger, Zemo wasted no time in ordering their capture, declaring them as outlaws and placing tempting bounties on their heads to entice the impoverished population to betray them.

Of course, nobody did. So, Bucky and his Merry Men were free to help the people as they pleased, despite the Sheriff and his incredibly powerful friends breathing down their necks.

Yet, despite how gratifying it feels to help others less fortunate than them and enrage the Sheriff in the process… instead, Bucky feels lost. Despite his hatred for the Sheriff, Bucky finds the constant pursuit of him and his men for helping others infuriating, and it only serves to reinforce how insignificant the people are to those in power, and how much they need him. And the longer he observed the people's plight, with no action taken except by him and his Merry Men, the more disillusioned he became with the world.

But most of all, despite his gratitude towards the Merry Men, he secretly dreams of finding his own love and happiness, longing to escape the hardships of poverty. But how can he ever tell them that the heroic outlaw… doesn’t want to be one, at least, not forever?

~ * ~

“Did you see you’ve got a new wanted poster, Bucky?” Steve says to him one day, throwing one over as he and the others relax in the forest, counting the things recovered from their most recent haul.

“He’s never going to give up, is he?” Bucky laughs. He peers down at the poster, laughing. “I have to admit though, I do look pretty good this time.” He smirks, striking a pose to match the one on the poster.

“Mhm….” Steve rolls his eyes. “Glad we can see where your priorities lie. Show off.” He teases.

“You’re just jealous you don’t have a personalised one.” Bucky smirks. “I’m just in high demand, Steve.” Steve scoffs.

“Yeah, we’re so jealous that Sheriff Zemo isn’t actively encouraging people to hunt us down just for trying to help people.”

“Technically, he is.” Bucky retorts with a smirk. Although he can’t help but feel a pang of guilt. Although grateful for their help, this fight is his alone. He doesn't want them to be hurt because of him.

He can do this alone.

He’s used to being alone, after all. By now, he’s come to expect it.

“Don’t give us that look,” Sam chuckles. “We want to help you. We’re in this together. No arguments.”

“But-”

“But nothing.” Steve cuts him off, and the others nod. Bucky sighs, nodding.

“Thanks, guys.” He smiles. “It means a lot, you helping me with this.”

“Oh, is the big and scary outlaw suddenly going all gushy and cute on us?” Sam laughs. Bucky rolls his eyes, but can’t deny a small pink hue forms on his cheeks.

“Shove off.” He groans. “Now, come on. Let’s get to work.”

Bucky and the others get started on their training, completely unaware of how their paths would intertwine with someone they could never have expected. Someone else also seeking an escape from their life, this time on the opposite end of the social spectrum.

~ * ~

“Are you sure this is safe, my lady?” Lady Y/N’s maid Rose asks. Y/N chuckles.

“I’ll be fine. It’s just a ride in the forest.” She smiles, smoothing down her dress. “And I told you already, you can just call me Y/N. Only my parents expect their full titles.” She groans. “I hate it. It feels so impersonal. You’re just the same as me, regardless of our upbringing.”

Despite her noble birth, her life of privilege and wealth, being taught and practically raised by maids and tutors, wearing fine silks and eating quality meals with fine wine to wash it down with…. Y/N hates every single part of it. She hates how people around them flaunt their wealth whilst others suffer, and how her family expects her to find a smug, rich husband of her own to continue the cycle.

Unlike her parents and everyone else in their social circle, she empathises with the plight of the poor, and longs to help them whenever and wherever she could. She sees her maids as friends, rather than staff. Unfortunately for her, she can’t help as much as she wants to. Her chances of changing society and making something of herself are limited, especially as a woman.

“Remember, there’s that outlaw. He does a lot of good, but-”

“Bucky Barnes.” Y/N sighs dreamily, her eyes sparkling. “Isn’t he exciting?”

Luckily for Y/N, a respite soon appeared in Bucky Barnes and his Merry Men. After being dragged to so many fancy parties and dinners with her parents, Bucky Barnes became a hot topic amongst her parents and their social skills. Either he and his Merry Men robbed them, or they knew someone who had been targeted. Of course, Y/N pretends to be horrified by the news of Bucky and the Merry Men’s escapades, but deep down, the stories of their bravery and heroism excite her. Finally, someone who understood how she felt, someone who could challenge those in power and help others where she couldn’t.

Bucky was a warning amongst her parents and their friends, a dangerous threat to society and to their social standing. But to Y/N, he was her saviour: someone who showed her that there was a life outside of stuffy dinners, a way to help others. She dreamt of meeting him one day, explaining her story and how she wanted to help. Of course, in her dreams, he always took her under his wing right away, helping her flourish into a member of his team.

He was her hero before she even met him.

And of course, the fact his wanted posters make him look easy on the eyes isn’t so bad, either.

“Well, yes, but he dislikes nobles.”

“With good reason!” Y/N retorts.

“But you’re a noble.” Rose reminds her. Y/N chuckles, waving off her friend’s worries. “I’ll be fine. I won’t stray too far, I promise.”

Before Rose can say anything else, Y/N has said goodbye and is heading downstairs. “Where do you think you’re going?” her father raises a brow, his voice booming down the hallway.

“Just for a ride, father. Rose already knows.” She explains, trying to ignore the steady increase of her heart rate. Her father scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“I do wish you would stop calling her that.”

“That is her name, father.” She reminds him. Asshole.

“Don’t backtalk me.” He snaps. “Regardless of whether that's her name or not, it's irrelevant.” He snaps. “I won't allow you to tarnish our family name with your wish for a happy ending and your equal rights nonsense.” He scoffs. “When will you learn they are lesser than us?”

“Father, I was just being-” she insists, but he cuts her off, his expression twisting as his anger increases.

“I don’t care.” He huffs. “I suggest that you remember your place in this world. Sooner rather than later.”

With that, he storms into the dining room, slamming the door. The sound reverberates around the hallway, making her jump slightly. Her fists clench, both with anger and upset, and she has to grit her teeth practically to dust to stop herself from going after him and giving him a piece of her mind.

How dare he speak about her friend like that?

How dare he speak about anyone like that?

The quicker she gets out of this place, the better.

And with that, Y/N races to the stables and mounts her horse, riding towards the forest. The wind blows, her horse's mane flowing in the wind as her hooves pound the ground and the sun beats down, warming her skin. She takes a deep breath, inhaling the fresh spring air. She loves it here; the tranquillity is exactly what she needs after dealing with her parents and their horrible attitudes.

Yet as she rides deeper into the forest, she does not know she’s being watched.

“Think she’s a noble?” Sam smirks. Bucky raises a brow, staring at her dress as she rides by. The dress is quite simple (at least, by noble standards), but the expensive fabric and detailed embroidery gives her away. Bucky chuckles.

“Oh yeah. This one should be easy enough.” He grins. “Come on.” He chuckles.

In the next clearing, Y/N lets her horse take a break, fetching some water from a nearby stream whilst she relaxes. “There’s a good girl.” She chuckles, stroking her horse’s mane. Her father’s words from earlier echo in her mind:

“I won't allow you to tarnish our family name with your wish for a happy ending and your equal rights nonsense.” He scoffs. “When will you learn they are lesser than us?”

She groans, leaning against a tree. “I just wish he could see how I feel.” She sighs. “Realise the unfairness of having your life planned before you can decide what you want. I want to make my own decisions in life.”

Suddenly, a twig snaps behind her. Y/N frowns, raising a brow. “Hello? Is somebody there?”

No answer comes, adding to her confusion. “Maybe it’s just a wild animal.” She chuckles, trying to ignore the way her heartbeat is increasing. She turns back to her horse, ready to ride back…. But then, footsteps. Y/N turns back, seeing a figure approaching. His blue eyes focus on her, and he grins. Y/N’s eyes widen.

“You’re… Bucky Barnes.” She gasps. After longing for this moment for so long, she finally has it, as if given to her on a platter.

“Indeed, I am. I see my reputation precedes me.” Bucky chuckles.

His wanted posters don’t do him any justice. He’s stunning.

“Oh, I’m Y/N.” She nods. Bucky nods, coming closer.

“What is your business here?” He demands. Then, she notices other men are coming out of the trees now, circling her. They all stare at her, grinning.

And then the penny drops.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

After all, Rose was right. Everyone knows what Bucky Barnes and his Merry Men do to nobles. And despite her dress being one of the more simple ones she owns, she’s not exactly inconspicuous. “Take it easy…we’re not going to hurt you. We just want your money.” Bucky says.

“I don’t have any.” She stammers, backing away once she notices the knives strapped to his waist and the bow and arrow on his back. Bucky is her idol, but she never imagined he would endanger her, even as a noble. “Bucky, listen, I-” she urges.

“Not good enough, sweetheart.” He smirks. “You nobles are always carrying wealth, or something expensive. You just can’t help yourselves, can you? You are always flaunting your wealth. So hand it over.” He orders, his blue eyes now focused on her in a glare.

“Excuse me? You know nothing about me.” She retorts angrily. Bucky chuckles harshly.

“I don’t want to know anything about you nobles.” He scoffs. “I already know your type. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.” He’s even closer to her now, staring at her curiously, weighing up which things he can steal. “Well, it ends now.” He declares, his voice deep and husky. Y/N’s heart pounds, and she tries to remain calm, despite the men approaching her.

She’s dreamt of meeting and helping Bucky for months. And now he’s in front of her… it’s not living up to her expectations, to put it mildly. Yet…with the way he’s sizing her up, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t still the slightest bit attracted to him.

“Bucky, please. I believe in your fight. Let me help you.” She insists. “I’m not like them.”

“Yeah, right.” Bucky scoffs. “You think you’re not the first noble to tell us this? To scream and beg that they didn’t mean to hoard all that wealth? You just couldn’t help it?” He rolls his eyes, clearly sceptical, only making her angrier. “I want to believe you, but you nobles do nothing to change it. You just sit there whilst the people suffer.”

“Because I can’t do anything!” She retorts. “What do you expect me to do? My parents don’t listen to me anyway, let alone other nobles.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Oh, please. People are starving in the streets, but you and your rich friends live such pampered lives. This is only fair.” He scoffs, which infuriates her.

“For someone so keen to help others, you’re such a judgemental asshole.” She snaps. “Many things can be said about you.” She retorts. “You’re an outlaw, a filthy criminal.” She says. “Sure, you want to help people, but maybe you care more about how it boosts your image.” Bucky’s face falls, his firm resolve faltering.

She briefly regrets upsetting him, aware of Bucky's dedication to his cause, but it fuels her determination to prove him wrong. “See, you know I’m wrong, that you can’t judge people by where they come from in life. Yet you do it to me. Being born noble does not mean I’m like them.” She says. “I despise the people around me, how greedy they are, and how willing they are to hurt others for their own gain. I try my best to help those in need wherever I can, even if it’s just treating my family’s servants with dignity.” She continues, impassioned.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like, listening to them boasting about all the money they’re making whilst the poor suffer? Being pressured to find a rich husband of my own to continue the cycle? Knowing I can’t do anything about it because I’m a woman, and nobody listens to me? I’m just expected to sit there and look pretty, because ‘I’m not smart enough for these discussions’?”

“Well, no, but-” Bucky frowns. Of course, plenty of nobles have begged for their mercy before. It’s something he’s used to. But never like this before. This woman, she’s different, she has some fire in her.

And honestly, he likes it.

“No. You don’t.” She snaps. “They’ve raised me to inherit a life I don’t want.” She tells them. “One full of misery. My parents want to pick out a husband for me, surely one as cruel and greedy as the other nobles.” She knows it’s not Bucky’s fault this is what her life is, but she’s using him as her escape, a way to unleash her anger. “I used to idolise you. I hear so many stories about you, about all of you,” she gestures to the Merry Men “and the good deeds you do. And whilst everyone else I know hates you, I admire you. I wanted so badly to join you. Because I understand your fight, Bucky. I want to help you. You were my escape from my life.” She admits. “But seeing you here, now? Judging me just like the way the nobles judge those lesser than them? And how they judge you? Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” She scoffs. “So fine. Take my necklace and keep doing what you’re doing, believing we’re all horrible people.”

Silence hangs in the air as she finishes up, with Bucky and the Merry Men all watching her intently. “That was…quite the speech.” Bucky chuckles, lost for words. Heat spreads across her cheeks. Now she’s definitely going to get it.

“I was just…” Bucky shakes his head, smiling.

“No, no, please.” He reassures her. “You may be right. Perhaps we have become too judgemental over the years.” He nods. “You really mean that? You want to help us?” He asks, his voice softer. Y/N smiles.

“Yes, I do.” She agrees, and Bucky nods.

“Excuse me for a moment.” He steps back from her, calling his Merry Men into a huddle. They murmur amongst themselves. Y/N raises a brow, trying to discern what they’re saying.

“Are you sure about this?” One asks incredulously. “She’s still a noble.”

“She’s right though.” Sam nods. “We can’t do what we do and judge her, too. We barely know her.”

“And she told us she empathises with our fight and told us to just take her jewellery! They never do that.”

“I don’t know. We can’t just take her word for it. What makes you think she’s so believable?”

“I don’t know. I just have a feeling.” Bucky smiles at his words, and Steve chuckles.

“Oh. I see.” He grins. “Well, I’m in if you are, Bucky.”

“Me too.” Sam nods. Other Merry Men nod, and soon Bucky realises that most of the Merry Men want Y/N to help them.

He has a good feeling about this.

~ * ~

Soon, Bucky walks back over to her. Y/N watches curiously, hoping he didn’t notice her staring.

“I was expecting you to make a break for it.” He admits, seeming genuinely surprised. “Most of them do.”

“I told you.” She chuckles, the sound a happy burst through the trees. “I’m not like most nobles.” Bucky smiles.

“I can see that,” he whispers. “you’re special, Lady Y/N.”

“Oh no, please just call me Y/N.” She shakes her head. “My title sounds so formal. I hate it.” But she won’t deny how good it feels to have her title leaving Bucky’s lips. It even makes her stomach flutter.

“You’re really challenging my expectations.” He chuckles. “Anyway, my Merry Men and I were talking, and…”

“And?”

“If you’re serious about helping us… we’d like to take you up on your offer.”

“Really?” she gasps.

“Consider it a test of sorts, to see your true character, and if you really mean what you say.” She nods. Whilst it still stings to know they don’t fully trust her, this is good. It’s a start, an opportunity to prove herself. And besides, even if she’s not enough for them, at least she’s helping others… and getting to see the incredibly cute outlaw as she does. “We were thinking you could spy for us. Go to your fancy parties, listen in to their conversations, and report back to us.”

“Perfect. I can do that.” She nods. The thought of going back to those unpleasant parties with older men makes her stomach churn, but at least there is some potential for good to come from it. Bucky holds his hand out, and she shakes it.

Despite being an outlaw, his hands are surprisingly soft.

“Well, Y/N.” He says, a smile playing on his lips. “Welcome aboard. Let’s see what you’re capable of.” He chuckles, a glint in his eye.

~ * ~

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scariusaquarius · 2 months ago

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rehab. 7.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

A/n: Now we're getting into the nitty-gritty! Soldat is ready to start carrying out her mission, but will it be successful? Will Bucky catch on to what she's doing? Who knows! BTW, you can read it here on my archive account as well!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

Author: ScariusAquarius

rehab masterlist. chapter 6

The next few hours had been relatively uneventful. After the soldier had pledged her compliance, the people surrounding her within the lab had slowly back off. The Fist and Shuri were exchanging seemingly heated words just outside the lab behind sound-proof glass that the soldier could not hear through.

While the Soldier could read their lips partially, she couldn't discern exactly what was being said. The only thing the soldier could comprehend was that the Fist was seemingly offended by Shuri pledging to help finish the mission.

When they were done exchanging words, they both came back into the laboratory and stood in front of the chair that the soldier was sitting in. Shuri greeted the soldier, asking politely despite the frustrated furrow within her eyebrows.

"When was the last time that you ate a meal?"

The soldier immediately frowned, glancing down at her knees as she tried to remember. There were no memories that came to mind, and when she couldn't answer, the soldier clenched her fists.

"I...don't remember."

Her voice was shaky, unused to the English that slipped from her tongue, but Shuri's shoulders relaxed with hope as the soldier spoke. The Fist squinted his eyes, however, and the soldier almost winced.

He was not convinced.

Truly, it was to be expected. Just hours ago, the soldier told him that he was her mission. The Fist was right to be cautious, but it did not matter to her.

She would complete her mission no matter what the costs were.

"That is alright. Would you be willing to eat?"

"How does this help me to complete my mission?"

The Fist and Shuri shared a look with each other before the Fist stated, making the soldier look up at him with an unconvinced sneer flashing across her face.

"You want to take me in, you need to be strong enough to do it. The more you starve, the weaker your body becomes."

His voice was slightly annoyed, his posture revealing his unease, and the soldier glanced back down at the untouched food. It was a different meal than what Shuri had attempted to give to her before, and it was extremely simple. The Soldier tilted her head slightly, and she leaned forward slightly to sniff it.

"It is called Isidudu. It's just porridge with some brown sugar, butter, and sweet milk."

The soldier simply frowned at it, and Shuri hummed gently, crossing her arms.

"You have permission to eat."

Flicking her gaze to Shuri, the two of them shared a look before the soldier glanced back down at the food. Slowly grabbing the spoon, the soldier scooped up the creamy food and began to hesitate.

Her hand was hovering over the plate, some of the porridge dripping off of the spoon. The soldier's body began to stiffen; her hand trembling as she held the handle of the spoon tight enough within her grasp to bend the metal.

There was a lump in the back of her throat, nausea beginning to plague her, and the soldier couldn't help but to glance at the door; waiting for her Handler to come in and punish her for even touching the spoon. She was unsure of why her tongue felt so heavy and thick-as if it did not belong to her, and the soldier became nervous.

The soldier could not help the tears that filled her eyes as she stared at the food, shaking and unsure, and she was slightly startled when Shuri sat down across from her; her tone gentle like a mother comforting their child.

"Isithunzi, it is alright. You do not have to be afraid. We will not punish you for eating."

The soldier was confused and unsure, her brows furrowed, and the soldier glanced back down at the spoon within her hand for another long pause.

The soldier could not deny that she was waiting for the reprimand; the hand raised in warning to strike her for having the audacity to even acknowledge the hunger, but her stomach was rumbling painfully to the point the soldier could no longer refuse.

The soldier swallowed thickly before she slowly took a bite, and flavor burst upon her tongue. The porridge was sweet and creamy, the milk adding a flavor that the soldier could not describe, and she carefully swallowed.

Despite the taste and enjoyment that soldier found from the meal, there was guilt eating away at her; cutting through the fog of her mind. She shouldn't have done that. She shouldn't have eaten this. The soldier began to tremble more, and Shuri encouraged her.

"You're doing great, but you don't have to eat if you don't want to. I don't want you to hurt yourself."

The soldier glanced up at the Fist briefly, and she noticed that he was gazing at her with a slightly far-away look within his eyes. When the Fist noticed that she was looking at him, though, he seemed to tense. The soldier looked away, and she slowly began to eat despite the guilt that was eating away at her like maggots eating an infection.

"Isithunzi, I would like for you to answer some questions for me if you can. Are you up for that?"

The soldier was quiet, rolling the food around within her mouth before swallowing; warmth blooming within her belly as the food began to satiate and ease the hunger and pain. She nodded, then, making Shuri smirk at the Fist with a haughty look that made the man roll his eyes.

"Do you have any memory of who you were before you were with HYDRA?"

The soldier paused, shaking her head slowly after careful consideration of her answer.

"I was...born into HYDRA."

Shuri tilted her head slightly, and the Fist sat down after a moment, asking her instead with a sassy tone to his voice.

"Is that what they made you believe?"

The soldier could tell that he was frustrated and becoming hostile, making alarm bells sound off, and Shuri scolded the man in Xhosa before glancing back at the soldier.

"He has not had his daily bottle today, I am sorry."

The Fist shot Shuri an annoyed look, but Shuri did not pay attention to him. Instead, she brought up a couple holographic images that made the soldier pause in eating, eyes wide with wonder. It was a list of CIA emblems for every directorate the agency had, and there was one that stood out to the soldier, though she did not indicate as such.

"Do any of these emblems look familiar to you?"

The soldier frowned for a moment, perplexed by the question, but slowly pointed to the emblem of the Directorate of Science & Technology. The Fist became intrigued, asking her as he leaned forward.

"What do you know about this?"

The soldier looked away, whispering shakily.

"I...dreamed. Places...a-and people...I...I don't...know..."

Her voice trailed off. She was not supposed to dream; to remember. She was frightened; afraid to mention this in fear that they would take the memories away, and the soldier became closed off. Shuri noted the way that the soldier became uncomfortable, and she praised her gently.

"That was good. You did well, Isithunzi."

"This is not relevant to my mission."

The words were almost robotic, and there was a strange feeling of shame that came from the words. Shuri and the Fist shared a look together, and Shuri shook her head.

"Oh, but it is relevant. We will explain to you why in due-time. Would you...be able to explain to me why it is difficult for you to eat?"

Traumatic memories flashed through the soldier's mind, and the tears welled up in her eyes again as she stared down into the porridge below.

"Hunger...is weakness. It serves no purpose to the mission. It is not to be indulged in unless given permission. It is strictly allowed only due to performance decline. There are...consequences...for displaying such weakness outside of absolute necessity."

Shuri shook her head slightly, and the soldier could see the Fist clench his jaw. The soldier could not tell if her answer pleased or upset the woman, but the soldier was aware that Shuri was becoming heated by the way her lips pursed.

"Well, you are allowed to eat whenever you would like to. In fact, eating more will help you to become stronger, which will allow you to complete your mission when it is time."

The soldier stayed quiet, staring down at the empty bowl in front of her before she whispered, her tone shy and unsure.

"I...am allowed to eat...whenever?"

"Yes. Whenever you want to."

The soldier then slowly pushed the bowl towards Shuri, which made the princess smile with amusement.

"May I...have more?"

Shuri nodded, and she stood up along with the Fist.

"Of course. Sergeant Barnes and I will be right back. It should not take long."

The soldier did not respond, however. Instead, the soldier was gazing long and hard at the emblem she had pointed out; looking perplexed as she tried to place the symbol within her memories.

(Y/n).

Who was (Y/n)?

Who was she?

-WITH BUCKY-

"I'm not really convinced."

Bucky was standing with his arms crossed as him, Shuri, T'Challa, and Okoye stood within a room just beyond Shuri's lab. There was a live hologram of Steve, Natasha, and Tony situated across from them, the three Avengers looking annoyed.

Tensions were high as the group discussed the soldier; topics ranging between her rehabilitation to her apparent mission and how Bucky wasn't entirely convinced by the soldier's behavior.

"She went from trying to throw knives into our heads and fighting to suddenly being complacent and accepting of our help. Seeing as I used to be her, I can tell you that she is bluffing. She's only trying to win our trust so she can strike when the opportunity arises."

Natasha nodded gently, quirking her eyebrow up as she responded.

"It's a good strategy."

Steve gave Natasha a dirty look before turning it towards Tony as Tony spoke, the man looking nonchalant and shrugging as he popped a couple blueberries into his mouth.

"Okay, then why not just call her out on that? The woman's already in captivity, so you might as well pop that cherry."

Shuri shook her head, muttering.

"I am the only smart one here. What a burden!"

Bucky did not miss the way Okoye snorted to herself, and the princess spoke firmly to Tony, stating.

"If we call her out on her lies, there is a possibility that she will become hostile enough to retrigger the programming. While I have placed blocks to ensure that it won't occur so soon, it would be senseless to place safeguards for nothing, and I am not wasting such complex yet delicate work."

She then huffed, crossing her arms while popping her hip out sassily; glaring at Tony with no hesitation.

"The best plan that I have is to rehabilitate her enough to give her a sense of self outside of being a Winter Soldier, and I am doing that by manipulating her into believing that what we are doing is to help her complete her mission."

Steve asked, frowning.

"What exactly is her mission?"

Bucky answered, shrugging.

"We don't know. She didn't say. She just indicated that I was her mission and that was all."

Bucky didn't miss the recognition that came across Steve's face, and the Captain asked.

"Do you think HYDRA put a hit on you before they disbanded and she's following that blindly? Is she aware that HYDRA is mostly eradicated?"

T'Challa cut in before Bucky could respond, shaking his head slightly.

"If she was given orders before she was put under, then it is possible that there is someone else that is waiting for her return. This is the best way to gain information without giving Sergeant Barnes to the enemy."

Bucky nodded, adding with a clench of his fist.

"In one of her memories, I recognized someone: Jack Rollins. He seems to be her handler."

Natasha and Steve shared a look together, and Tony stated.

"Okay, that's a start. If we can find Rollins, maybe we can find out who our Winter Soldier actually is. Do we know where Rollins was last seen?"

Natasha replied, shrugging.

"At the World Security Council at the Triskelion when Fury and I busted Alexander Pierce for being HYDRA. He was supposedly arrested, but given HYDRA's amazing ability to be everywhere and nowhere at once, I wouldn't be surprised if he was broken out."

T'Challa nodded, an expression of dread ghosting across his face before he quickly corrected himself, giving the three Avengers a determined face.

"I shall have Shuri run her biometric recognition programs while we continue to monitor and rehabilitate the woman. We now have confirmed that she knows the Directorate of Science & Technology, so that narrows our search down considerably."

Natasha muttered to Steve quietly, not realizing the mic was still able to pick up her voice.

"Scientist from the CIA? That always gets HYDRA's rocks wet."

"Natasha, we can still hear you."

Bucky was annoyed, and Natasha just made a face of mock surprise before shrugging, a ghost of a smirk on her face.

"I'm sorry, I thought I would lighten the mood."

In the back, Okoye muttered to herself.

"Americans."

Tony clapped his hands together, swallowing a large portion of blueberries as he surmised.

"Alright, so we get to Rollins, see what the deal is with this woman, get our Manchurian Candidate 2.0 no longer wanting to kill people, and we live happily ever after. Sounds like a good plan. Good talk, everyone, your participation is greatly appreciated."

Tony left the frame, and it was only Natasha and Steve left. Shuri couldn't help but to ask.

"Is that what he is like all of the time?"

"Unfortunately."

Steve replied before sighing, rubbing his temples before he said.

"While getting to Rollins is a good idea, it's not likely that he will talk when we do find him. If HYDRA is good at anything, it's keeping information as hidden as possible. I don't doubt that Rollins would be willing to do anything to make sure the information about the Winter Soldier, and any other possible ones, is kept quiet. We'll go ahead and keep looking through the data that we have here while Tony runs his facial recognition programs as well."

Shuri nodded before offering as well.

"If it's any consolation, we did make some great progress with our soldier, so I do believe that we are on the right track. We just need to be careful about how we move forward. If we can just establish some sort of trust, then perhaps the road to rehabilitation will be easier."

Steve nodded and he praised gently.

"You're doing amazing work, Princess Shuri. I really appreciate what you're doing, and what you did for Bucky, too."

Shuri smiled and waved her hand dismissively.

"Please, this is not only fun but a learning experience as well."

T'Challa nodded before he added.

"As we stated: we must move forward carefully now that progress has officially been made. While Shuri's safeguards are in place, they will not last long, and we do not know what will happen if they disintegrate before Isithunzi is rehabilitated enough to understand that what she is doing is wrong and HYDRA is not the good guy here."

Natasha then asked, a curious look upon her face as she stared at the King.

"Okay, then how long do we have until those safeguards disappear?"

"Without extreme emotional duress, the safeguards will be active up to a month. However, if the soldier experiences any duress during her time here, it can weaken the safeguards enough to last only a few weeks. Truly, it is dependent on Isithunzi...as well as a few other factors."

Bucky knew that Shuri was referencing him, and he could feel his shoulders drop slightly. Natasha just nodded along while Steve responded with a hopeful expression.

"Hopefully it doesn't have to come down to a fight. I just know that we're going to be successful....we have to be."

"What if you are wrong, Captain?"

T'Challa challenged Steve with a pointed look, and Steve sat back in his seat a little.

"What if you are wrong, and there is nobody beneath the rubble? What will you do then?"

"Keep digging."

Steve was firm, and though Bucky wanted to disagree, he knew that Steve was set in his plan. That's just who Steve was: fighting for the little guys. Bucky couldn't help but to shake his head, muttering affectionately and quietly.

"You're such a punk."

"Right back at ya, pal."

The video feed disappeared, and T'Challa glanced back at Bucky. Bucky looked up from his feet to meet T'Challa's gaze, and T'Challa sighed slightly; relenting his gaze to look at Shuri.

"While you work with Isithunzi, Sergeant Barnes and I will work on finding Rollins. Okoye will stay with you."

Okoye immediately stood next to Shuri while the princess hummed, raising a brow.

"You mean you are going to use my programs without me in the room? Am I nothing to you?"

"Oh, stop."

Shuri and T'Challa shoved each other gently before doing the Wakandan salute, and Shuri glanced at Bucky.

"I will let you know if there is any progress or issues alike."

Bucky nodded before he shrugged.

"Alright, let's get to work then."

STORY NOTES: After pledging her compliance, Shuri and Bucky seem to have a heated discussion about Shuri agreeing to help the soldier with her mission. When they both reconcile and come to an understanding, they decide to try to get the soldier to eat a meal again. When Shuri questions the soldier and asks her when she last ate, the soldier cannot answer. The soldier retaliates, asking how eating would help her with her mission, and Bucky replies that she needs to be strong if she wants to bring him back to HYDRA. The soldier then relents, trying an Xhosa meal called Isidudu.

The soldier then attempts to eat, though her bites are filled with hesitation and regret for her actions. She becomes afraid, unable to hide her fear of eating, and Shuri comforts the soldier before beginning to question her about her previous identity before HYDRA. The soldier indicates that she was born into HYDRA, which Bucky quickly quips about much to Shuri's chagrin.

Shuri then shows the soldier a list of CIA emblems for each branch, asking if any of them are familiar to the soldier, and the soldier points out the Directorate of Science and Technology emblem. Bucky becomes intrigues, but when he further questions the soldier, the solider becomes withdrawn in fear of being punished for remembering.

She becomes hostile after Shuri praises her, stating that what they are talking about isn't relevant to the mission, and Shuri vaguely replies in turn. Shuri then asks why the soldier is nervous when it comes to food, in which the soldier explains that HYDRA has instilled into her that food is a luxury that must be earned. Shuri encourages the soldier to eat whenever she wants to, indicating she has autonomy and freedom to eat, and the soldier shyly asks for more food after.

After retrieving another portion of food for the soldier, Bucky and Shuri attend a meeting with T'Challa, Okoye, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, and Natasha Romanoff about the soldier. Bucky reveals that he isn't convinced by the soldier's act, and points out that the soldier is only bluffing so that she has an advantage to complete her mission. Tony then asks why they do not call her out on the lies, and Shuri reveals that she is manipulating the soldier as well. She explains that if she can establish some sort of trust and get the soldier enough rehabilitation to formulate a sense of independence and autonomy from HYDRA, then the soldier may be more likely to leave HYDRA.

Bucky recalls the man from the soldier's memories as Jack Rollins, who Natasha and Nick Fury had run into during the Project Insight incident with Alexander Pierce. Since he was last known to be alive, Tony and Shuri elect to run biometric recognition programs all around the globe to try to find the man.

The avengers further discuss the safeguards that Shuri has placed, and she reveals that as long as the soldier doesn't experience extreme emotional duress, the likelihood of her programming being triggered is low. However, the safeguards are not meant to stay active for long, and there is a maximum of a month until the safeguards wear off.

TRANSLATIONS:

Isidudu - a creamy porridge made with mealie meal. It is a common breakfast in Xhosa and Zulu households.

Isithunzi - Xhosa for shadow/shade, the Soldiers nickname

TAGLIST: @mgchaser @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @aash3

#bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #the winter soldier #winter soldier #marvel #marvel x reader #captain america #captain america x reader

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urdepressedslut · 2 years ago

Text

main masterlist

♡fluff ✦angst ❀possibly triggering ☻smut ✰series ✘dark

🔥over 1k notes to be added to a taglist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | SOME CONTENT 18+

* You are responsible for your media consumption. Please do not proceed reading, if you have any kind of problem with any of the above written warnings.

One Shots

🔥 Tickle Fights ♡☻

→ Bucky discovers you’re ticklish, leading to a tickle fight which shifts into something not so innocent. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

🔥 Just Like That ☻

→ While you two were supposed to be repairing Sam’s boat, you end up giving Bucky head instead. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

🔥 Let Me Take Care of You ♡☻✦❀

→ Bucky is no virgin, but it’s been so long since someone’s touched him the way you do. He didn’t know you could make him feel so good— he’s addicted. (Beefy!Bucky Barnes)

🔥 Lovesick ♡✦❀

→ Bucky is so in love with you it hurts, and he doesn’t know if he can keep his feelings locked away from you anymore. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

🔥 I Get Scared Too ♡✦

→ You have a close call during a mission, and back at the compound Bucky seems to be distant and cold towards you. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

Feels So Right | part two ♡☻

→ You’re so sexually frustrated you end up asking your dad’s best friend for advice. He’s more than happy to help you with your little problem. (Dbf!Bucky Barnes)

Birthday Blues ♡✦❀

→ It’s your birthday, and unfortunately you seem to be going through the birthday blues. Sam and Bucky won’t let you be upset on your special day, which leads to Bucky revealing his feelings for you. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

Tears of an Angel | part two ♡✦❀

→ You’ve been trapped at HYDRA for god knows how long, until the cell next to yours gets someone new. Who is this man, and why is he comforting you? He doesn’t even know you. (The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Prisoner!Reader)

🔥 Love Hurts ♡✦❀

→ You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence. (Beefy!Bucky Barnes)

The Collection ♡✦

→ Bucky arrives home and panics when he notices you calling for him from your room, but upon entering— he realizes what you have been getting yourself into. (tfatws!Bucky Barnes)

Tragedy ♡✦❀

→ A new shapeshifter recruit has a hard time adjusting to the team, she feels out of place. Bucky knows what it's like to be the outsider and fight to have control, so he comforts her. (Platonic!Avengers!Bucky Barnes)

Off Day ♡✦❀

→ Bucky helps comfort you after you’ve had a bad day. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

Void ♡✦❀

→ Working as a nurse at HYDRA, you find yourself intervening when you catch Alexander Pierce striking The Asset. You don’t even know this man, but you can’t just stand and watch him be beat down. (The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Hydra!Reader)

You Could Never Hurt Me ♡✦❀

→ Bucky realizes what he’s done to you after an episode, and starts to doubt if he deserves to be with you. (cw!bucky barnes)

I Wanna Be Yours ♡✦❀

→ You were childhood friends with Steve and Bucky. You had always had a small crush on Bucky. But now as you’re older, you realize that harboring a crush on Bucky is hard. Especially watching him flirt with girls that aren’t you. (40's!bucky barnes)

More Than Friends ♡✦

→ You are eager to help Bucky prepare for a date, but he would rather stay home with you. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

Protect Me ♡✦❀

→ With Zemo hanging around, you begin to feel very protective over Bucky. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

Out of My Control ♡✦❀

→ You awake in the middle of the night discovering that your water broke, you realize you’re having a baby— the only issue is that it’s several months early. Your hospital room gets tense as you and Bucky come to terms with the big changes. (Mob!bucky barnes)

Cuddles ♡✦

→ Bucky comforts you when you have bad period cramps. (tfatws!bucky barnes)

Beauty and the Bucky ♡✦❀ (Beauty and the Beast!Au)

→ In search of your missing Father, you discover a castle far into the untouched forest. After knocking and no answer, you find the doors unlocked and venture inside. But beware— it might not be your Father you find inside. (Beast!bucky barnes x beauty!reader)

Series

🔥 Stray (masterlist)

→ Just hours after the events in DC, you find The Winter Soldier unconscious, leaning against a gravestone in a cemetery near your home. Being sheltered you don't recognize who he is, and you care for him. (The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes)

🔥 You're Mine, Sunshine (masterlist)

→ Bucky gets picked by a very rich and respected man to be his daughter’s personal bodyguard. The Father warns him that it won’t be an easy job, that she is a brat and difficult to deal with. But what happens when Bucky meets you and you’re the complete opposite? (Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader)

All I Know (masterlist)

→ Takes place right after the end of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Bucky hides out in Bucharest. Without being controlled by HYDRA, he starts to receive flickers of memories. Who is this girl he keeps remembering? (cw!Bucky Barnes x OC!Fem!Reader)

The Girl and Her Golden Boys (masterlist)

→ A story of your life with your two best friends. Life was never simple for the three of you, and you didn’t care where you’d end up as long as it was together. How long can you all stay together until life will force you all apart? Will the strength of your bond be enough? (40's!Bucky Barnes/40's!Steve Rogers)

Love Me to Death (masterlist)

→ The avengers compound receives a new recruit. She’s a siren who can make anyone fall deathly in love with her with one word. Bucky immediately takes interest in her as he discovers she’s mute, for good reason of course. (Avengers!Bucky Barnes)

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stuckymonkey · 2 years ago

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Thief

College Bucky Au

Pairing - college!bucky x fem!reader

Summary - When y/n finds herself stuck with a very annoying study buddy who cannot shut up about the quarterback, Bucky Barnes, she can't help but vent to a charming boy named James...

Warnings - use of y/n, reader is female, implications of smut?

Word count - 2k

a/n - my first time writing with this style and ship! also my first time writing on this blog :D I hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

masterlist bucky masterlist

It's been two hours of trying to study for our physics quiz with some girl named Vic from my class. She couldn't shut up about how her date had been with the school's quarterback, Bucky Barnes. "I really think he's the one, you know?" she had said with heart eyes as she twirled her curly hair around her finger.

Vic's notes remained untouched. I nodded and hummed while copying down equations and formulas. She obviously didn't mind my disinterest, continuing to talk about how Bucky had complimented her necklace and the perfume she wore.

Checking the time on my phone, I gratefully noticed it was time for me to head back to my dorm with Nat and Carol. "I know he has a reputation as a bit of a player, but I swear I'm the exception. You should see the way he looks at me!" her jaw dropped as if she couldn't believe it herself. "Mhm, well it was really nice working with you but I have to get back to my dorm. Catch you later?" I asked while scurrying to gather my stuff. "Yeah, for sure!!"

I bolted out of the library and down the dark sidewalk to my dorm. I enjoyed the slight autumn breeze and rustle of the leaves as I walked down the sidewalk. Soon enough I saw the lights from our building come into view, walking faster to get into the warmth of our room. I burst into our dorm, wasting no time in talking about my night.

"Natasha, that was horrible. The entire time Vic talked about Bucky Barnes like he was a God," I started setting my stuff down on our island while I talked, "She went on and on about their date and how she's sure he's the one." I imitated in a high voice. "It was disgusting. Like I get he's the quarterback but how good can he seriously be?? Anyways, I at least got some notes done. How was your night?" That was when I noticed Natasha's boyfriend, Steve and one of his friends was sitting on our couch.

"Hi Steve." I waved. Steve was smirking at his friend. He went to introduce him but was quickly cut of by a "Hi, I'm James." He grinned and stuck his hand out for me to shake. "Sorry about your study session" he said with a smile. "It's no big deal. How's the game?" They were watching college football on our living room tv. "Good, it's just in the final quarter." his smile reached his eyes and crinkled them around the edges.

The rest of our night was spent watching football, eating snacks and drinking wine or beer. When the game ended and everyone started yawning, Steve and James decided to go. "Bye," Nat kissed Steve goodbye, before stepping back from the door with me and Carol. James waved with a boyish grin on his face before leaving with Steve.

The next day we were heading to a football game, one of the last before thanksgiving break. Being pre-med I didn't go to many games, and I couldn't help but wonder if I would see the infamous Bucky Barnes. Nat and Wanda led me to the change rooms to help Thor sort out his hair, something I would usually do for him prior to the game, but today he said it would be better to do it here since I was coming anyway.

Once in the changeroom I saw many familiar faces, Tony, Steve, Sam, Peter, Pietro and now James. I caught James' eye and waved. He waved back with that same attractive grin. I started braiding Thor's hair while everyone else got ready for the game. Soon it was time for me to find Natasha and Wanda so I could sit down and watch the game. Thor and the rest of the team bid me goodbye as I left.

"So, what do you think of James?" Wanda asked, earning an elbow to the side from Nat. I quirked my eyebrow at her actions, "He's nice, and cute." "She's blushing!" said Wanda. "I am not! I'm just wearing a lot of layers, it is fall you know." "There's Steve!" Nat called, pointing to the field as the players started to come out. "Does anybody know what number James is?" I asked innocently. Nat just shook her head.

After the game, we went back down to the changerooms so Nat could see her boyfriend and Wanda could see her brother. "Y/n! Your braid held up amazing today! Thank you!" Thor bellowed as soon as he noticed us. "You're welcome Thor! I'm glad it worked." I said with a laugh. I found myself alone as Nat and Wanda left, but not for long.

"So, I heard your study session went pretty bad. Want a different partner maybe?" I turned around to see James. "Are you offering to help me study physics James?" "Maybe I am doll," he smirked, "I promise not to brag about Bucky Barnes or any football players. Scout's honour." he said, holding up one of his hands in a very serious manner. I couldn't help but laugh at his antics. "Well with a promise like that, you sure do make it hard to resist." I smiled. "It was that bad, huh?" he seemed closer than he was before. "Yes! The entire time she went on about Bucky and how amazing their date had gone. She said he was a known player but that he had a special spot for her or something. It was crazy. She even told me he was the one. Last time I checked, playboys don't have 'the one'" his smile seemed to dim at this. "Yeah, I guess you're right, doll." I loved that nickname. I felt butterflies everytime he said it. "Well, I'll give you my number, maybe you'll have better luck the second time around?" he offered. His confidence didn't seem as high as it was before. "Of course!" I said before handing him my phone and taking his. I put Y/n with a flower beside it before handing it back. He had put in his contact as 'James'.

A week later, James and I found ourselves in the library, notes open, with drinks and pens scattered everywhere. We had been talking daily in the days leading up to this and he seemed like a really sweet guy. He was raised by his single mother, Winnie, who he adored, he had a sister named Rebecca and he's been playing football with Steve since they were 11. They seemed like great friends, I couldn't help but wonder why I hadn't met him sooner.

Three hours in, our drinks were gone and my head felt all foggy. James was an incredible study partner. He chatted with me every now and then, always a welcome break from copying down notes. He was smart and helpful without being a nuisance like Vic. "Thank you," I said. He looked up at me with tired crystal blue eyes. "For being an amazing study partner." I smiled. He smiled softly, "I didn't talk too much?" "You did perfect. 10/10. We should definitely do this again." he grinned and let out a low laugh. "Alright then. I think it looks like you found a new study buddy." "That I did."

Me and James kept up our study sessions for weeks, and the habit of texting daily. We made frequent visits to a cute cafe on campus, usually spending an hour or more per week. During those hours we tended to do more talking than anything. My phone pinged with a notification,

James

Text me when you can. Not urgent, just need to talk.

That was weird. I went downstairs to talk to Wanda and Nat about it. "Have you guys noticed anything weird with James?" I asked. They shared a look that made me feel like they knew something I didn't. "Guys?" "Y/n, I think it's better if he tells you." Wanda said with a slight frown. What could have happened? Was he okay? I immediately opened my phone and told him to meet me at our cafe in ten minutes.

"Y/n?" he asked, seeing me at our usual table. I stood up once I saw him. He looked gorgeous, with a black coat, fresh jeans and a plain white tee. His hair looked a little messy, like he had just gotten up. "Are you keeping something from me? Are you okay?" "Y/n-" "No! If there's something wrong, I deserve to know James! I'm your friend, I know you don't have to tell me, but I care about you and-" "Y/N!" heads turned from other tables and the chatter died down for a moment after James had yelled. "Y/n, I am not sick, and I'm sorry for yelling. My name is James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky Barnes." I looked at him wide eyed. I was shocked. He didn't seem like a playboy, or self obsessive. Or anything Vic had described. Except for charming.

"Okay." "That's it? I've been guilty about this for weeks y/n/n." "And you should be! You technically lied to me. Why didn't you just tell me J- Bucky?" He kept avoiding my gaze. "Because then you would know I was a player and self obsessed." He seemed shameful and his face lacked any trace of a smile, instead it had traces of guilt.

"You don't seem like a player or like that at all. I actually really like you." I'm sure I was blushing at this point, and his head shot up from where he was looking at his shoes. "Really?" "Really. You're sweet, you care about your team, friends and family, especially your mom and Rebecca. You would do anything for your family or your team. You're giving and caring and you technically pretended to be someone you aren't just so we could see where this goes." "You think this is going somewhere, doll?" he smirked. "Maybe." I shrugged.

Tentatively he spoke, breaking our silence. "Y/n, would you like to go out with me?" "Hm...." I pretended to think, making his eyes widen. "Yes!" a breath of relief escaped him, and he stepped forward to wrap me up un a hug. I felt him place kisses to my hairline before he pulled back and smiled as he looked into my eyes.

I would never get tired of this view or this feeling. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and his hair was still messy. Crystal blues peered down into my own eyes. Pure adoration covered his face. "Well Barnes, where to?" "What do you mean doll?" "Didn't you just ask me out?" I giggled. "You mean like you want to go right now?" "Why waste anymore time, Bucky?"

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x fem reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #mcu #marvel mcu #marvel #college bucky

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enchantedbarnes · 1 year ago

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Recommendations 💖

I've been wanting to do something with recommendations for ages now, but there's just too many to even know where to begin! Here's a chaos list of past and present faves 🥰

Completed fics

Undisclosed by @pellucid-constellations

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Desperate to outrun a secret that could cost you your life, you seek refuge in a small mountain town. Its deep forests and small cabins make it the perfect place to hide, but the travel website hadn’t mentioned anything about the quiet, burly lumberjack that wouldn’t leave your thoughts. No one had warned Bucky about you either.

Lumpy and Bunny masterlist by @sweetdreamsbuck

Pairing: beefy lumberjack!bucky x f!reader

Summary: Bucky's never been so scared of a feeling in his life. there are too many what if's– too many fears bubbling deep within the parts of him left broken and hollow, untouched for far too long. but he never envisioned finding you– and he's entirely too impatient; entirely too certain no one's ever been more infatuated with something than how he feels for you.

Sweet and Sour by @sashaisready

Pairing: Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

Summary: You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again.

While you're over there you might as well check out ...

Under the Radar by @sashaisready

Pairing: Nick Fowler x reader

Summary: Reader is a brilliant but shy and awkward CIA employee whose work is often overlooked by her colleagues…she’s blended into the background for so long that she doesn’t think there’s any other way - even if she does have secret aspirations for another life. Unbeknownst to her - a certain blue eyed agent is very aware of her talents, even if nobody else is.

The Lookout by @mymoonagedaydream

Pairing: ParkRanger!Bucky x y/n

Summary: It was amazing, really, how quickly one person managed to turn your dream job into a living nightmare.

Operation get Mr Bucky and Momma together by @golden-barnes

Paring: Beefy and Teacher! Bucky x milf! reader Summary: Bucky doesn't play favorites but Amaya is definitely his favorite, especially because her mom is hot.. Cue a 6-year-old trying to get Bucky to be her dad.

Worst Idea Ever by @firefly-in-darkness

Pairing: Y/N & Bucky Barnes, Other Marvel Characters.

Summary: Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what's the worst that could happen?

Classylo's masterlist

home for the holidays by @classylo

When your family begs you to come home for the holidays and to bring the new guy you’ve been seeing, you don’t have the heart to tell them your good-for-nothing-ex cheated on you… good thing your roommate is available and will do absolutely anything you ask.

should've been you by @classylo

He was supposed to meet you at the game. He was supposed to be the one you went on a date with. He was the one you were supposed to fall in love with. Yet, here you are three years into a relationship with another… it should’ve been him, not his best friend.

Moral of the Story by @justkending

Summary: From childhood friends, to highschool sweethearts, the two naive, young, and lovestruck teens decided the best way to keep a strong relationship during college would be to marry right out of highschool. No one batted an eye at the idea as everyone knew they were soulmates. However, college is a big step in a person’s life. You learn new things about yourself, you make new friends, find new hobbies… And maybe being newly weds and going to different colleges across the states wasn’t the best plan… After a falling out, a tragic and heartbreaking divorce, the two now despise the other for how the whole thing was handled. Neither not really knowing both sides of the story. 10 years later, and they both get a call from the lawyers office that settled their divorce. Somehow the papers never went through and the divorce was never completed. So now, the exes, or should we say husband and wife, have to meet back up after all these years to settle their failed marriage once and for all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Everest by @justkending

Summary: She was done and retired. After Thanos and the battle of a lifetime, she called it quits and distanced herself from the Avenger lifestyle. But word finds her that someone from her past is in danger. What the journey entails was never one she wanted to face nor one she saw becoming her reality again. The rollercoaster that comes with fighting evil odds arrives on her doorstep, not leaving much room for a no… Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Coming in Hot by @nexusnyx

When your best friend Sarah recommends you a mechanic of her brother’s trust, all you can think about and pray to is that he doesn’t rip you off. Your car is your prized possession and amidst all the worry and concern of your medical studies, drowning in even more debt sounds as suffocating as it would be. Of course, you never thought of the possibility of the mechanic being the problem. A hot, polite, gentle, and silent-type of problem. Drowning in debt would be easier to navigate than the blue of Bucky Barnes’s eyes.

Pairing: Mechanic Bucky x Reader

Though I Have Never Read by @tuiccim

Pairing: Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Summary: You had run away from all of your problems and found solitude in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. When a storm blows in, it drags a man with a metal arm through your door. Offering shelter, you spend one night together before he disappears. Years later, you find yourselves together again but does he remember that night or you at all?

Blink Twice by @simmerandwrite

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: It was just an undetermined amount of time in a safehouse with a stranger: Bucky “I didn’t come here to make friends” Barnes himself. Would it really be all that different from your lonely life with your cat in the city? Bucky was basically a cat, anyway. He was quiet on his feet, only really made noise when it was dinner time, and you both seemed to just coexist without acknowledging each other. His mandate was to keep you safe. What could go wrong?

teach me how to love by @buckyismybicycle

Pairing: DAD!BUCKY X TEACHER!READER

Natasha leaves behind her precious daughter, Yelena, and with her dying breath asks Bucky to look after her.

Sweet by @noceurous

summary: it was something cliche but your fuck buddy fell for you nonetheless, even though you swore you would never do relationships again. But rules are meant to be broken.

call me when you want by @bonky-n-steeb

summary: when you call a sex hotline with a need to be dominated you don’t expect to meet (or hear) someone as wonderful as James. but your life becomes a complicated mess as you already love your coworker, Bucky Barnes. however, you are unaware that they are actually the same person.

Grow Old With Me by @sonderosa

Part 1 & Part 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

...you could wait fifty years if he asked it of you. You’d promised him that, and he’d smiled and kissed you, told you that in fifty years he wanted to be old with you, sitting on a porch in rocking chairs and watching the sunset. You wanted that, too; it was a beautiful dream.

Sweeter Than Honey by @foreverindreamlandd

Pairing: Mechanic!Bucky x Fem!Personal Assistant!Reader Summary: It's your first international trip working for bestselling author Tony Stark as his new personal assistant, and you're desperate to prove yourself worthy of such an incredible opportunity. But when things start to go wrong whilst staying in Dublin, and suddenly you're stuck in the middle of the Wicklow Mountains with a flat tire, you're convinced that you'll be fired before the day is over. Luckily, a handsome, blue-eyed mechanic with an accent that makes your insides melt comes just in time to save the day.

Their other series are also *chefs kiss* -> go read the rest of @foreverindreamlandd's series

Love at First Grade by @buckysimp101

Pairing: Single Dad!Bucky Barnes x Single Mom!Reader; Teacher!Bucky x CEO!Reader

Summary: When father and first grade teacher Bucky Barnes ends up with Avery L/N in his class, the daughter of the “ruthless” CEO of L/N Enterprises, he's in for a surprise that's sure to change his life.

Teacher's Favorite AU by @suitk0via

Pairing: Dad!Bucky x Teacher!Reader

Summary: You are first grade teacher and Bucky is a single dad who wants to be involved with everything his little girl - Elaine - does. He’s the dad all the parent’s and faculty drool over. You quickly become Elaine's favorite teacher and Bucky's just gotta meet you.

The Heart is a Deep Ocean by @dreamlessinparis

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: Titanic was known as the ship of dreams. For you, it was the dream of getting home, or so you thought. From the moment you locked eyes with James Buchanan Barnes, all those dreams changed and your life was never the same.

Something Domestic by @fandoms-writings

Pairing: ex-military amputee!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Needing an escape from the loud and busy city life, Bucky comes to stay with you on your little farm. He didn’t expect you, a hardworking and beautiful woman with struggles of your own, to take his breath away and make life a little less dreary.

Labyrinth by @frostironfudge

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, (Modern AU)

Summary: labyrinth (noun), a complicated set of paths and passages, through which it is difficult to find your way. Bucky and You would do anything for Steve and Wanda, your respective best friends. In an attempt to avoid a tradition Steve and Wanda come up with a lie involving their best friends. A lie, that involves building a labyrinth. Bucky and You begin to build but will you two find your way out or be caught in it?

nostalgia for the new by @real-jane

pairing: bucky barnes x female!reader shield agent

summary: bucky meets you because of your exquisite taste in music, and he finds in you a solace he didn't realize was possible. you create for bucky something he's never found before: nostalgia for a time that hasn't happened yet, and hope for a future where he might be loved.

The Thrill of the Hunt by @rookthorne

Pairing: Scare Actor!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

The ancient game of cat and mouse, a fight for survival between a predator and their prey, wasn’t a new phenomenon – it had been practised for centuries and it was an art that very, very few perfected. For years you had chased the craving to find someone that had mastered the art of the hunt, and for Halloween, you had gone all out and visited a haven unlike any other. It was there that you found your match. Cloaked in nothing but black and shrouded in a sense of lethality, you would have to run from this shadow in an adrenaline fuel haze unlike any other. A chase for the ages, the very one you desired. And if he caught you, your world would end as you knew it.

Ongoing fics

Honey Girl by @violentdelightsandviolentends

Pairing: Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Summary: The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

After all those years by @ziawbarnes

Pairing: AU Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Peggy and Steve's wedding in Mexico takes an unexpected turn when you and Bucky, who initially couldn't attend, end up joining the celebration. With no available rooms, Bucky becomes your roommate for ten days, leading to unexpected adventures and new connections.

Fresh Start by @nicoline1998enilocin (on hiatus but I love)

Pairing: Teacher!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: In this universe you can explore the story between Bucky Barnes as a middle school teacher, and Y/N with her son Luca. They just moved to the other side of the country, and have decided to completely start over their lives. On the first day at his new school, Luca quickly befriends his new teacher, and Y/N can't help but take a liking to him as well.

A Past Encounter by @majesty-madness

Summary: Being in a relationship with Bucky, Y/N prided herself on knowing him quite well but when she’s accidentally teleported back to the 1940's, Y/N discovers that there is a whole other Bucky that she has yet to meet. The sweet flirt that had everything going for him before his unfortunate capture by HYDRA.

Neighbors by @writerlyhabits

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Summary: You get to know your neighbor across the hall, James.

Unexpected by @repressedqueen

Paring: SexWorker!Bucky x reader

Summary: After a crazy night out celebrating your birthday, somehow you ended up outside a brothel debating on whether it was time for you to finally have sex or not.

My Little Love by @crazyunsexycool

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Fem! Reader

Dr. Feelgood by @endless-summer-soldier

pairing: Surgeon!Bucky x SurgicalIntern!Reader

summary: Y/N has a one night stand with a handsome stranger the night before starting her new job as a surgical intern. Little does she know, the handsome stranger also happens to be her new boss

Untitled Single Dad!Bucky Fic by @angie-likes-to-art

Pairing: Teacher!Reader x Single Dad!Bucky

Summary: You made a promise to yourself to not sleep with any parents before starting teaching, little did you know the guy you slept with two days before is the dad of your cutest student.

Too much love to choose from, here's some creators with masterlists you need to check out! ❤️‍🔥

@jobean12-blog

@navybrat817

@coffeecatsandcandles

@metalbuckaroo

@wkemeup

@nickfowlerrr

I love and appreciate all of you 💕 thank you for all your hard work 🥰

Happy Reading!

(Dividers by saradika)

RECOMMENDATION LIST #2 CAN BE FOUND -> **HERE**

#fic recs #fic recommendations #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #my recs

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fluffysucker · 9 months ago

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There's nothing like this

Bucky Barnes x Reader (AU) Boxer/Biker! Bucky Barnes x Chef! Reader Part of the Miss Americana & The heartbreak Prince. AKA Bucky and his princess ALL ONESHOTS CAN BE READ AS STAND-ALONE

Bucky looks at you and your relationship

Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female. Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated. Opinions really matter to me.

Been sitting on this one for a while now.Anyway hope you look it.

HEAVILY based on Hozier's song 'Two sweet'. Because look at me and tell this song isn't so Bucky and his princess.

Main Masterlist

It was absurd. It was unusual. It was odd. It was unconventional. It was everything but normal.

However, it made perfect sense for both of them.

He was focused. He was determined. He was in the ring. He held his hands up near his face, calculating his next steps carefully. If he played it right, the fight was his with the least effort.

And he did. Because right now, he was the legend. The icon. The unbeatable. He was James Barnes. He was, as many like to call him, the Winter Soldier.

The opposite man never stood a chance to begin with. He knew it. Everybody knew it. It's a sad day in any player's life when they are paired with Barnes.

His legacy was unequal. His reputation preceded him. His demeanor spoke loudly. His appearance made it clear. His strong body and physique. His toned muscles. His broad shoulders. His long hair. His cold stare.

Everything about him prompted fear to the hearts of all players who sought this game as a profession.

He was untouchable. He was unconquerable. He was the Winter Soldier. He was James Barnes.

Winning this fight in record time with a final blow from his left arm, which the opponent wouldn't recover from, wasn't what was abnormal about this.

The abnormality came from the girl in the pink dress and bright makeup who sat in the first row and cheered for Barnes like her life was dependent on it.

Finally, you were able to get to this place in your relationship where Bucky was okay with you watching him fight.

You thought you had lost your hearing when Bucky told you that you could come and watch for the first time. You were playfully nagging him about it like you usually did whenever he had fights coming up. You never expected him to give in and agree this time. It took you a couple of seconds to react. Only regaining composure when he offered to take it back. Over your dead body. You had been waiting for this long enough.

Bucky couldn't understand how or why someone would get this happy and excited to watch a boxing match. Especially someone like you. Someone so sweet and adorable.

Your excited squeals and up-and-down jumping in the kitchen of his apartment once he told you left him surprised in a pleasant way.

You really did love him so much that you wanted to risk being in such a place only to support him. Not that he would let anything happen to you. Never in a million years. But a person like you could never belong to places like these. And you were smart enough to know that.

But you didn't care. You had been asking for this for a long time. You meant every word you said. You wanted to support him, be there for him, and cheer for him. You wanted it.

You wanted to be a part of every aspect of Bucky's life. Because you loved everything about him.

And letting you come and watch him felt like a great victory and a big step forward. All your patience and understanding paid off.

And you continued. Letting Bucky decide whenever you could join. Let him have one of the guys pick you up and drop you off. Let him assign another one to stay with you.

It made you laugh inside. One of them would show up at your restaurant's door at the agreed-upon time and take you to the Stark property. Then, once you reached inside, another would be waiting for you to accompany you the whole time you were here. Most of the time, it was either Steve or Sam. Given that Bucky trusted them the most and you were closest to them,.

The whole thing felt very funny to you. You felt like a child being handed around from one to the other. But you were okay with it. You knew that was the only way for Bucky to let you come here. So you didn't mind. Whatever would put his mind at ease and would allow you to support your boyfriend. You were fine with it.

Bucky always made sure he planned it right. He made sure you arrived at the right time when you were able to watch his full fight from the start, but nothing before it. You were here only for him, and it should stay like this. He didn't like the idea of you seeing other messy, brutal fights. That was also why he made sure he brought you to fights that were easy. He knew he was winning. Fights that he came out of with barely a scratch.

Of course, you noticed this pattern of choices. But you didn't bring it. And you wouldn't. At least for now.

However, the most important thing for Bucky was making sure someone stayed with you at all times until you left. If Sam or Steve were unavailable to do this job for any reason, you weren't coming. It wasn't up to debate.

He knew the people who frequented Stark Property. They would eat you alive. Your lovability and tenderness would draw them to you like a deer in a wolf den. And they wouldn't be kind. And Bucky couldn't have this. If anyone said something to you, let alone tried to lay a hand on you, Bucky would burn the whole place down. No hesitation. No thoughts. Everybody would be in great danger.

Just like he was untouchable, you were too. And even more.

Knowing so, Sam and Steve took their assignments seriously. Because while both men loved you and cared for you, they were aware of Bucky's nature. It was no joke to him. God forbid he turn around mid-fight and see you sitting alone. They wouldn't hear the end of it. There were very few things the three men considered to be a threat to their long and strong friendship; this was one of them.

So today, after the referee announced him the winner, he turned to the crowd that was applauding him. His eyes immediately caught you. Standing in between Yelena and Sam in your puff-sleeved, heart-shaped neckline, filled with rose-flower pink dress, matching your shiny pinkish makeup. Your hair braided at the top and rest falling freely on your back. The necklace with his initials resting on the pit of your neck. You were cheering for him like he won the world's most prestigious prize.

Bucky was trying to fight his smile and not break character. You looked unbelievably cute. With your happy smile, bright eyes, and nonstop clapping, it was all for him. You did it for him.

Everybody was cheering for James Barnes or the Winter Soldier, while you were cheering for Bucky.

And he was so grateful.

Bucky left the ring, only throwing a wink at you on his way inside. While Bucky didn't show much affection towards you in here, everyone connected the dots.

You were the boxer's girl. And you held that with pride

Once Bucky was inside, some of the guys came out, making you all head out to the bar to continue the night there.

You were in the middle of a conversation with Wanda when you felt the familiar, strong arms wrap around your waist.

"Hey, princess." Bucky whispered in your ear as he pulled you close to his chest, laying soft kisses on your exposed neck.

You smiled at Wanda, who took this as her cue to give you two spaces. Because in here with the people he mostly trusted, Bucky wasn't shy about giving you all his attention and affection. In other words, it gets sickeningly sweet and loving.

"Hey, babe." You turned around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck while his hands tightened around your waist.

"You were so great in there." You said this as you gave his lips a little peck.

"You liked it?" Bucky asked as he kept giving you small kisses.

"Yes, I wanted to shout at everyone to look at how strong my boyfriend is." You were laughing as you tried to speak between his kisses.

"I think they already know." Bucky couldn't help himself when he buried his face in your neck, kissing it softly.

"Well, they need to hear it from me." You felt the vibration of his laugh on your neck.

You moved a bit so he could look at you. You wanted to say this to his face.

"I'm so proud of you." You were looking into his eyes as you said it.

The playful smile on Bucky's face turned into something genuine. The care and love you gave after the fights touched him immensely. Nobody ever treated him like that. So gently. It was puzzling how, after watching a fight like this, you still chose to love him so sweetly.

It was an active choice you kept making. He didn't understand why, but he would never complain.

He leaned forward to capture your lips and kiss you softly yet passionately. He wanted to stay like this forever.

As the night went on, you and Bucky separated, travelling to different circles of people. But that didn't mean Bucky didn't keep his eyes off you.

Which was what led to where he was now.

Bucky was sitting in one of the booths, observing you. The back booth gave him the opportunity to see everything.

You were standing with his friends. People who were so different from you yet here you were, getting along greatly with all of them. You were talking to all of them, laughing, and sharing jokes.

Bucky couldn't help the smile on his face when he saw you struggling to give Clint an opinion about the dish he made and presented to you.

But you being you. You managed to find something nice to say about the barely edible food, making Clint's smile bigger than the sky.

You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate.

The rest of you like you're the TSA.

Bucky kept watching you. He watched as you listened carefully to Peter's stories, and how you interacted and was fully invested. He watched as Pepper stole you to ask about a cake recipe for Morgan, which you happily provided.

Then he watched as you rejoined Natasha at the bar, picking up where you left off in the conversation with her.

It wasn't just the colors you wore that made you stand out. It was everything.

I wish that I could go along, babe, don't get me wrong

You know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain

Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape

Bucky couldn't take his eyes off you. How you listened to everyone. How you treated everyone. How swiftly you got along with everyone. How compassionate and accepting you were. How sweet you were.

And you were all his.

Bucky kept looking at you as you were walking towards him.

"I brought you another one." You said this as you put the two cups on the table. His neat whisky and your raspberry martini.

Before you could sit down, Bucky pulled you to himself, ushering for you to sit on his lap. You gladly did.

His arms came around your waist, and yours around his shoulders. Your floral scent evaded his senses. It was the opposite of his. Strong scent like the woods and black coffee.

Your pink dress clashed with his all-black outfit. You felt too bright for the dark spot he was sitting in.

Everything about the two of you didn't make any sense. Not even in the slightest. You were the polar opposite.

You were nice. He was stiff. You were friendly. He was feared. You were understanding. He was strict. You were smiley. He was sullen. You were vulnerable. He was a closed book.

You were everything he wasn't. He was everything you weren't.

There was nothing like this.

And somehow, that made you perfect.

You brought lights he had never seen in his life before. You created happiness he never thought of. You led him to feelings he didn't know existed. You gave him love, which he always claimed he was unworthy of.

You changed his life. You turned his life upside down. In the best way possible.

Bucky wished there were enough words in the world to tell you how much he loved you. Bucky wished there were enough ways he could express his gratitude for you. Bucky wished there were enough time to show you how much he cherished you.

Bucky wished that one day you would ever comprehend how your sweetness saved him. How you were everything to him

"You're too sweet for me." Bucky spoke slowly as he kissed you.

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irelandking · 2 years ago

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college au fic recs

bucky barnes x reader

❤️ = fluff 😔 = angst 🔥 = smut

multiparts:

carnations - @viollettes

It’s a simple concept: Students can buy flowers for each other at the carnation sale. Red flowers are for love, pink flowers are for friendship, and white flowers are for expressing secret admiration. A carnation fundraiser, an iota of possibility, and a longtime secret crush on your hot best friend - what could go wrong? ❤️

untouched - @buckyalpine

other parts: Tongue Twister, Date Night, Tipsy virgin college bucky x virgin college reader (steve's sister) ❤️🔥

passing notes - @nastybuckybarnes

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 You sit at the same table ever day at the little café down the street from campus, each day with a different book. Often poetry. And Bucky Barnes is always in the table next to you, usually doing the same thing. He either reads, writes, or sketches. One day, a dropped notebook leads to... something? Will that something turn to dust after an eye opening realization? ❤️🔥😔

sup, professor @/bbarnesjames - @aescapisms

[A Social Media AU] Bucky Barnes is the “most handsomest man” that you have ever laid your eyes on and oh, would you look at that. He’s your professor. [COMPLETE] ❤️📱

as friends - @jeanthebeans-blog

part 2 You and Bucky are friends with benefits, but the lines are starting to blur and you don’t know how much longer you can keep having sex as friends. Loosely based on “Best Friends” by the Weeknd. 🔥😔

sweet reverie - @demxters

part 2: right where you left me bucky asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend but after what you thought was sweeter than a dream has you facing a harsher reality. ❤️😔

will we talk? - @winterromanov

Your hands remain clasped together until he’s far enough away from you, dropping your hand and grinning as he’s eventually lost in darkness. You have to hover for a second with your keycard in your hand, trying to gather your thoughts, process the events of the evening. Bucky Barnes like you. He likes you, not in spite of you, but because you’re you. ❤️🔥

one shots:

Chemistry - @viollettes

In which Bucky attempts to use chemistry to explain the chemistry between you and him. ❤️

know it all - @moonbeambucky

Your grades and patience are tested when you’re paired together for a class project with the one person you cannot stand, Bucky Barnes. ❤️

study break - @sebbies

you met bucky, a popular kid on campus, a year ago and became friends with him even though you have the biggest crush on him. he interrupts your study time. ❤️🔥

notebook - @softlyspector

Bucky and Y/N sit next to each other all semester. They never talk to each other, until one day they do. College AU ❤️

confess - @buckybarnesowl

You and Bucky have been inseparable since first year. Will you both finally confess your feelings, or are you doomed to a life of eternal pining? ❤️

she's not mad - @subwaysurf45

Bucky Barnes was a known people pleaser, it was second nature to him. After meeting you and getting close you both try to navigate his eternal stressed state, working together you try your best to tone down his obsessive ways. ❤️😔

nights like this - @writing-for-marvel

There are rules for friends with benefits, and you’ve broken the most important one: don’t fall in love with him. ❤️🔥

you next to me - @sinner-as-saint

Requested by @prettywhenicry4: “Hiii can you write something for punk/emo bucky? Him and reader are in college together and run with very different circles, they get paired up for a project and they’re always fighting but then overtime idk fall in love? But it’s so shocking for everyone around them cause they’re so different from each other” ❤️🔥

wanna be yours - @sinner-as-saint

Your best friend has been acting weird, and one night while you’re hanging out like you both usually do, he finally tells you why he’s been acting kind of different lately. ❤️🔥

cuffing season - @sinner-as-saint

Late at night, you’re at the campus library finishing up a paper. And it’s freezing. Like actually freezing, to a point where you’re not even sure if the heaters are working anymore. You’re still trembling in a dark corner of the study area when the cuddliest man you’ve ever laid eyes on walks up to you. When he sees you trembling like a leaf, the blue-eyed stranger offers to sit next to you and keep you warm for a while. Then, one thing leads to another and you soon find yourself walking home with him. And one thing is for certain, you want more than just his body heat. ❤️🔥

request - @sanguineterrain

Could I request college!Bucky x reader at a carnival with the prompt: “Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.” ❤️

in plain sight - @world-of-aus

you drive home from college with bucky, your best friends brother ❤️

post-it - @crazyunsexycool

his is a college AU was inspired by a random picture I saw of people using post it notes to write messages in windows to other people in a different building.❤️

stress relief - @bucksfucks

they say an orgasm reduces stress—bucky puts that to the test pairing: librarian!buckyx f!college!reader 🔥

time to study - @navybrat817

Bucky told you he needed help with his studies, but you should have known he just wanted an excuse to kiss you ❤️

#college!bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut

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sonnetsoncanvas · 2 years ago

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Mess it up : pt 3

Summary: Years ago he had let you go for your own good. But this time, he isn’t sure he can

Part of the Mess it up series

Pairing: brother’s best friend rock star Bucky x fem reader (Steve’s sister) (dual pov)

Warnings: modern AU, angst, second chance, eventual smut, brothers best friend trope, implied cheating, self-deprecation, happy ending?

Inspired by: Mess it up by Gracie Abrams

Notes: This is the first time a fic has made its way from my laptop to the internet. So please be kind and do leave your feedback. Happy reading!

Chapter 3: I keep thinking maybe if you let me back in

Reader POV

Life was not fair. Never was to you. But that never seemed to faze you. if anything, that made you more resilient. Unafraid. Unbothered. Living in that small, noisy Brooklyn apartment, with a mother who worked herself to death trying to provide her children with a good life, a brother, the literal personification of sunshine, being picked on and bullied, tending to his bruises when he thought nobody’s looking.

It made you realise that the world is a dangerous place. It eats up those who stand unprepared. And so, you steeled yourself. Made yourself the most fearsome creature to behold in any room you entered. Your biting wit, your sass, you sharp intellect made you attractive to some, unappealing to many and untouchable to all.

There was only one who dared to play with the fireball that was Y/N Rogers. Only one for whom your guards went down. After all, if Steve trusted Bucky with his life, you could trust him with your heart. Right?

Turns out you couldn’t.

“This was supposed to be a temporary thing” he’d said.

“Do you really think I’m gonna take you home to my mother ? tell her you are what I want the Barnes legacy to continue with?” he’d sneered.

“Its time you go back to your dreams, and let me get on with mine.” He’d offered.

You never should have.

Bucky POV

Life was hilarious. Or at least it started seeming that way after years of neglect. He had everything a child could’ve wanted. All the toys in the world, the most expensive apparel, all the amenities a person could dream of. But the one thing he lacked was love. Pure genuine love.

His mother, The Winnifred Barnes of the upper east side, knew how to give birth to heirs, but did not have a clue about raising a child. Growing up in that negligent household, amongst people who were nefarious for being social climbers and gold diggers, little James soon realized that the only worth he has comes attached to his name. that no one would care for him if it weren’t for his billions.

But he was proved wrong when he met a lanky blond boy of Brooklyn at the music camp. It was there he shed the expensive cloak of James Buchanan Barnes and donned the dirty sneakers of Bucky. It was through Steve he recognised his own significance, that he could be something more than the well-groomed showpiece his family was expecting him to be.

And then he met you.

And it felt as if all his prayers had been answered.

You weren’t like Steve, not one bit. You were this fiery, self-assured human who could scorch the world with her brilliance. Unlike Steve, you were pragmatic. Unlike Bucky, you knew who you were and where you wanted to be.

And he fell for you. hard.

He borrowed some of your bravery, some of your light, and formed the Avengers with Steve, Sam and Wanda. He wanted to make something of himself to deserve you. to earn the jackpot that was your love.

However, for bucky, it seems happiness is always a temporary tryst. He tends to forget that.

Skiing was his passion. One of the many trappings of his privileged life that actually he enjoyed. It was the same passion that completely changed Bucky’s life. But unlike you, for the worse.

It was his own fault. No one else to be blamed. Had he heeded the weather warning, he wouldn’t be on that slope. he wouldn’t have been caught in that blizzard. He wouldn’t have lost his left arm.

When he regained his consciousness, the first face he saw was yours, streaked with tears, anguish in eyes.

You came there every day, sometimes under the pretence of dropping something for Steve, who refused to leave him alone, sometimes to fill in for his absence. The better bucky got, the more hopeful your eyes grew.

You’d altered everything to fit Bucky’s schedule. You worked late nights so that you could visit him in evenings after school, stopped going out with your friends to be with him instead. There were times you pulled an all nighter just so you could turn in your assignments on time.

He saw it all. The dark circles beneath your eyes, your tired face, the endless cups of coffee. It should’ve pained him, but the thought that you were there, to love him, to hold him, brought endless solace. and so he selfishly held on to you.

Until one day, Steve told him about your college acceptance letters.

“She got into Harvard Bucky! My baby girl in Harvard. Just think about that.” A hint of pride glimmered under his annoyance, “But she refuses to go. Says she cant leave Ma and I alone.”

“what ?!” Bucky had asked, guilt gnawing at him

“I mean Columbia is a decent school, but Harvard law?! It doesn’t get better than that. How far is Boston anyway?...”

Steve’s voice blended into the voices in Bucky’s brain. He knew the real reason behind your hesitation to go to Harvard was him. He remembered how excited you were when your adviser had confidently proclaimed that she is Harvard material.

And you were willing to let that go. For him.

Instead of joy, Bucky felt trepidation. Fear. Was this love? Or pity? Is this how the rest of your lives will be? You leaving things you love for his sake? And how long before you resent him? Hate him for all the opportunities you’d let go of for him?

How could he ever live with himself, knowing he was the anchor that was holding you back?

Bucky had resigned himself to live his life with his situation, but you didn’t have to. You , perfect in every way, intelligent, so beautiful that his heart ached.you should be with some one who deserved you. not him. Never him.

And so James Buchanan Barnes did something that was somehow more painful than ripping his heart out.

He let you go.

Reader POV

you woke up with a heavy head. It felt a lot like jet lag, except that it wasn’t. one did not get headaches by travelling from Boston to New York. One did, however get headaches after crying all night. Which was what you did last night.

It was embarrassing. Pathetic even. You thought you were over him, and all that it took was one glimpse of his to mess you up. You had a Suma cum laude from the most prestigious law schools in the world, scored job offers from the most esteemed firms, made grown men cower in front of in courtrooms, and yet, were drowning in a puddle of tears over a high school boyfriend.

To be fair though, your only boyfriend. After he dumped you, you swore off men, while he went on an array of affairs with so many women you lost count of it. The tabloids had always had a sweet spot for him. “The heartbreak prince” indeed. Its only that the prince did the heart breaking, not the other way round.

You ambled out of the bed and cleaned up. It was hours before your usual time, but well, its not as if you’re getting any sleep now, is it? Its better to get some coffee for your pounding head. Your interview was tomorrow thank heavens. There was no way you could’ve done it today.

A clattering of utensils startled you. there’s no way Steve was up this early. Your confusion was immediately clarified as you came across the very bane of your existence hunched in the kitchen.

You tried to turn back and leave as noiselessly as you could. You cannot endure this so early in the morning. You’d rather go out to get coffee, there must be some place open at the ungodly hour. Its New York after all.

He turned that very instant, as if he could sense you. his beautiful blue eyes widened as he took you in, as dishevelled and disoriented as you were. After a long minute he shifted his gaze from your face, looking everywhere but in your direction.

You were beginning to suspect that God was punishing you for all your years of antagonism.

“I was about to leave.”

His voice, his goddamn voice. Your heart had always been ready to race out of your chest and beat to the rhythm of his speech. It was ready to do that now.

Had human beings been able to survive without a heart, you would’ve had yours surgically removed ages ago. Stupid, bloody organ always getting you in trouble.

a wave of guilt hit you as he started for the exit. He had done the same yesterday, leaving moment you guys entered, Sam dragging him away to help him do something you don’t recall. He returned after you went to bed, whenever that was. And now this. It felt wrong that he was uncomfortable in his home. It wasn’t his fault that you weren’t over what he called “a seasonal distraction”.

“stay” you rasped; your voice too low to be heard. You tried again. “Stay, James.”

He stilled. Stood frozen on the threshold long enough for you to wonder if he’d fallen asleep standing up. And then he turned. His eyes full of something you were scared to decipher. The silence was too oppressive, even for you.

“we both know this would happen. We’re both adults, we can co inhabit a space without it imploding” your head was about to implode though, and not from the headache.

“yeah, right. Youre right.” He mumbled, still sticking by the door, which was a good thing because you needed coffee, and you were sure you couldn’t function properly with him in close proximity.

You turned towards the fancy coffee maker, which was far more advanced than the old spluttering relic that you had in your dorm. You fiddled with the buttons, trying to get it to work.

“here, let me.” He said, the low raspy baritone that made you shiver. You hoped he thought it was the morning chill.

He skirted around you to get to the counter, and yet his subtle smell plagued your senses. He turned the shiny knobs easily with his right arm, putting in a new filter and placing a cup near the nozzle.

“you still take your coffee black?”

The question, innocent at its core, jarred you. your ex remembering a small detail about your from years ago was not on your bingo card, but there you are.

“uh I umm, yes.” You internally cringed at the fact that you, the mock trial champion, was stuttering. He nodded slightly and continued.

“How can anyone like something like this?!” he gagged, sliding your cup over to you.

“that’s what you get for taking a sip without my permission Barnes.” You smirked, snuggling in his outstretched arms, ready to resume his favourite movie that you honestly didn’t understand. All you cared for was spending time with him, even if it was hidden in his apartment.

“Atleast add sugar to it doll. Its too damn bitter.” He coughed.

“I like it bitter.”

You jerked at the small beep from the machine. Your eyes involuntarily went to his, only to recognise the same surprise there, as if this conversation took him to some other. the very thought of it gave you hope, and hope, you’ve realised over the years, is the most dangerous thing.

You hastily grabbed the cup, too eager to end this interaction. His presence was triggering emotions you have avoided for too long.

In your hurry you toppled the cup over, its blistering hot content pouring out. But before you could feel the burn, a shiny metal gripped your wrist and tugged you away. You staggered and stumbled forwards, bumping into his chest.

It was you who froze this time. too incapacitated by his smell, his body, him to move. You felt him draw in deep breaths, his heartbeat audibly speeding up. you stayed there for god knows how long.

It was he who withdrew. Because of course it was. You regained your composure and jumped back, frightened by the comfort that had washed over you in that moment.

“Thank you.” you gasped, and bolted out of the room right that instant.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagines #bucky angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky headcanon #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #steve and bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barns #bucky fluff #fanfic #avengers fandom

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gaysindistress · 2 years ago

Text

Sad Girl - three

summary: James has an interesting new business’ proposal and one hell of a condition to deal with.

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings: cursing, guns, violence (it is a mob au after all), Bucky’s smartass

word count: 2.2k

part 2 | series masterlist

a/n: Would anyone be interested in a series playlist?

taglist: @missvelvetsstuff @angelsincident

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

7 o’clock rolls around with no sight of the woman. Everyone starts to gather in the dining room and James looks to Natasha, silently asking her to go check on her.

7:10 comes and goes with a saddened Natasha and a disappointed James. Maids rush up with a plate full of food.

7:45 passes and dinner begins to dwindle done but no Miss. Stark. Maids rush back down the stairs with the same plate still full of food, now cold and untouched.

James sits in his office, walls lined with books from every imaginable author. His desk, black and sleek like the rest of his house, only holds his computer and whiskey glass. A fire flickers in the brick fire place, casting an amber cast across the room. The grandfather clock that is nestled between two book shelves shows that it’s some time after ten pm but there is no rest for the wicked. The only sounds that fill the room are the crackling of the fire, the clicks of the computer keys, and the occasional tapping on the crystal glass.

Upstairs she has finally found peace in her pj’s, face void of any makeup and salty tears. Her hair has been combed, oiled, and put into a braid. The old black sweater hangs off her body and covers the forest green shorts she got from a friend as Christmas pj’s. Sitting in the desk’s chair, she rests her head on her knee as she stares at the computer in front of her. The screen is black and has been for hours. She can’t bring herself to work on anything or even ask for the WIFI password. Not having eaten anything, her stomach grumbles at her to go search for something, anything, an apple even.

Groaning at her body’s demands, she gets up from the chair and works up the courage to brave the world outside of those black double doors. She debates taking something for protection but quickly shakes that from her head remembering that James had taken both guns from her.

When she leaves her room, there is no one around and the only light she can see is coming from deep downstairs. At the top of the stairs, she starts to wring her hands truly wondering if she does need to eat but her stomach grumbles in urgency again. Bare feet slap against the freezing cold stone as she makes her way towards the massive kitchen.

The light she spotted earlier is coming from down the hallway where Natasha said his office was at. Ignoring the urge to peak inside his office, she finds a fruit bowl in the middle of the black island. She leans over the counter and picks up a pear from the array of random fruits. This will have to do until tomorrow. She sits at the counter, eating her pear as something in her is pushing her to go investigate that light while another part is telling her to just go back upstairs.

Tossing the core into the trashcan under the sink, she steps back into the hallway and is faced with two options; go back upstairs or go towards the light. How fucking ironic this all is? Run away from the man who basically bought her or go towards the metaphorical light and risk dying? Curiosity wins and she walks towards the office before she even realizes what is doing.

She can hear the fire crackling and fast typing but no voices through the cracked door. Natasha had mentioned that he had a door policy but failed to mention what it actually was. All douche bags had the same policy right? Open door means come in. Cracked means knock and closed means go the fuck away.

A light knock breaks the trance James is in and he looks towards the door in confusion. The clock reads 11:11 pm so it shouldn’t be any of his men.

“Come in,” he says, one hand on his glass and the other sliding to the gun that was strapped under his desk.

She opens the door a little wider and slips through the crack to face him. She takes in the office so starkly different from her fathers. Her eyes run across the walls of books and down to the simple desk he is sitting at. He too has two black couches facing each other with a coffee table in the middle. A bar cart is next to his desk and two rather comfortable chairs sit in front of it.

He drops the hand reaching for the gun onto his lap and leans back into his chair, watching her and waiting for her to say something. It seems like he’s going to be waiting for a long time because she’s wordless as she slowly walks around the room, manicured nails trailing across the books. The awe that is on her face is adorable to him and makes a mental note to bring up books whenever the conversation feels stiff or forced.

She makes it to the grandfather clock, drops her hand and rounds the desk to make herself a drink at the bar cart. The glass bottles clinking against the glass of the cart narrates her actions as she ours herself a drink of undoubtedly expensive whiskey. Drink in hand, she takes a seat in one of the chairs facing James. By now he has shed his black overcoat and black blazer leaving him a fitted white button up that have been rolled up to expose his forearms. His right arm disappears around the table but his left arm can be seen. Rumors have been spread about that left arm. Rumors she doesn't care to repeat and seem untrue because here it is, intact and covered in intricate tattoos up to his wrist. The watch he wears catches the light from the fire every now and then as he moves the glass around.

“Did you eat?” is the only thing he can think of saying.

She nods, still taking in all of the man that sits across from her.

“Good,” he says, setting the glass down and shutting the computer.

“I don’t know why I came here,” she says quietly like she’s talking to herself out loud.

“I don’t have anything to say to you. You’re just as bad as him for saying yes. I fucking hate you for this and don’t think for a second that I will ever be okay with this.”

He nods, accepting her hatred because he knows he deserves it.

“This is so messed up. Who gives up their daughter for some business deal?” she trails off, “I’m his daughter, he should have more respect for me than this. I mean who… who does this?”

Tears fall down her cheeks again, “Who does this, James? Who fucking does this?”

“I don’t know, Doll.”

“Who does this?” she asks again, finally making eye contact with him.

The tear stricken face of a once strong woman stares back at him and what breaks his resolve is the knowledge that he played a part in it. He rounds his desk to stand before her and extends a hand out to her. The fighter deep down demands she break every bone in that stupid hand but the broken and scared little girl pleads to be held and comforted even if it’s by him.

She takes his hand and curls herself into his chest, whiskey glass and arms pined in between the two of them as he wraps his arms around her. The smell of his cologne engulfs her senses as she cries against his chest. One hand holds her head against his chest while the other rubs her back and he sets his chin on top of her head.

“I will never stop hating you.”

“I know, Doll. I know.”

________________________________________________________________

Sleep evaded her for the rest of the night and by the time her phone awakens with her six am alarm, she’s already up. Coffee seems like the only cure for her tired eyes and exhausted soul. Crawling to the end of the bed to avoid the freezing wood floor, she digs through her suitcase searching for socks and a pair of leggings. She forgot slippers in her haste yesterday and she’s not wearing heels to get coffee so socks will have to be her armor.

Maids and other workers can be heard getting the house ready for the day. Every now and then she hears men greet each other and cars drive around the property. Once again there is no one upstairs as she steps into the hallway. Everyone seems to be downstairs, keeping peace upstairs for their sleeping king.

Natasha is sitting at the island, a cup of coffee in-between her hands as she talks to Steve. Neither are expecting anyone from upstairs so they pay no attention to her when she makes it down the stairs. It isn’t until Steve glances over Natasha’s shoulder that either acknowledge that she is in the kitchen with them.

“Good morning,” Natasha greets as she spins her chair to face the woman, a smile wide on her face.

Steve offers a small smirk and a quiet ‘morning’ over his coffee cup before he takes a drink. The woman smiles and gets her own cup, setting it down opposite of Natasha and Steve.

“How did you sleep?” asks Natasha.

“Fine. I didn’t make a list for the men who are getting the rest of my stuff. I’m sure my father will stop them from taking whatever he wants back. I can just buy whatever doesn’t make it here.”

“Oh okay that’s great. Did you want to go with them?”

“Oh god no,” she scoffs, “I don’t want to see him until I’m absolutely forced to and even then I’ll figure out how to get out of it.”

Steve chuckles at her answer, “I don’t doubt that, Doll.”

“Is Doll my new name?”

“Take it up with Buck if you want to change it.”

“Right because ‘Buck’ is my handler and decides what I’m called,” she rolls her eyes, turning to the fridge to find some sort of creamer for the tar black coffee.

“We follow what he says so if he calls you Doll, we’ll call you Doll. If you calls you …” Steve is interrupted by an apple zooming past his head.

“Say my name and I won’t miss next time,” she threatens.

A deep chuckle comes from the entry way of the kitchen, revealing James standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. Of course he’s dressed in a black suit with a burnt orange shirt at six am.

“What would you like to be called?” he asks the irritated woman, still leaning against the entry wall.

“Doll is fine,” she shrugs her shoulders, “for now.”

“Doll it is then,” he pushes himself off the entry way and goes to pour himself some coffee just as the others had.

“Steve and I have some business outside of the house but we’ll be back around 10. After that I need you, Doll, to go over,” he pauses, not wanting to mention the elephant in the room, “the contract and what’s required from both of us.”

“Sounds like fun,” she states emotionlessly, trying not to look at him and how damn attractive he looks this early in the morning.

But if she had stolen a look or two, she would’ve seen the chain that is peaking out from under his shirt or how there’s a pearl bracelet adorning his right wrist. She may have noticed that when he moves, his suit jackets reveals a black leather shoulder holster that also clips onto his waistband. Maybe just maybe she would’ve seen that her revolver is snuggly secured on one side with his own 9mm on the other side.

Of course she wasn’t looking because that would mean she was too distracted by the details of his outfit to notice that he was standing right beside her and the other two had left the room.

“What happened to your ‘s’ necklace?” he asked, finger tracing the two remaining necklaces she’d pulled out of her sweater when she got up this morning.

“I’m not a Stark anymore so I left it,” her voice barely above a whisper.

“Left it or smashed it?” his hand traces its way up her shoulder and puts a fallen strand of hair being her ear.

“Both.”

“Looks like you need another one to replace it now,” his hand finds itself on the back of her neck.

“I’m not yours,” sounds hopeless on her tongue as he draws her closer to him, no more than a few inches separating the two of them.

“Never said you were,” his blue eyes make a painful slow journey from her lips to meet hers.

His eyes are daring her to make a move and hers are begging him to stay put.

“I’ll see you in my office at 10:30,” his tongue darts out to lick lips and he places a kiss on her forehead, leaving her dazed and confused with the change in their relationship.

As he walks away, she wants to scream out and throw her coffee cup because why the hell did she let him get so close to her? Why the hell did she let him touch her?

“I’ll never be yours,” she says hoping he believes her words but they both know her self control will fail her.

#mob au #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #mob!bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #sad girl - bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you

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kandisheek · 4 months ago

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FIC REC WEEK 43 – ENEMIES TO LOVERS

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: imposterhuman

I pretty much love all of the ideas and AUs that imposterhuman comes up with for these boys, they're so much fun! Especially the ones where they are clearly rivals, which is why I chose to rec them here. The characterizations are spot on, and I really love the dialogue – imposterhuman writes fantastic sassy banter.

Here's some of their work that I think you should check out:

the new romeo and juliet

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: G Words: 2,179 Tags: No Powers AU, Firefighter Bucky, Detective Tony

Summary: Bucky and Tony weren’t dating, because a firefighter and a detective couldn’t date (never mind that Tony hadn’t slept with anyone else since their thing had started, and he and Bucky hung out with an alarming frequency, and the whole precinct thought that they were an item). It didn't matter how many nights they spent together, how Bucky had a drawer of Tony's things and vice versa, they just couldn't. It was a classic Romeo and Juliet situation, if Romeo and Juliet actively disliked each other on top of everything.

Reasons why I love it: Aw, look at our idiots in love, they're adorable. The dialogue in this is hilarious, and I really enjoyed the rivalry between the different departments. And of course, it takes a kick in the ass for Bucky and Tony to finally admit how they're feeling. I love it, and I bet you will too!

all dressed up for a hit and run

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: G Words: 2,174 Tags: FBI Agent Bucky, Criminal Tony, Flirting

Summary: “I’m not sleeping with a criminal,” Bucky said sternly, trying to pretend like his resolve wasn’t wavering. “C’mon, baby,” Tony purred, raking a nail down his chest. “You’ve got nothing on me. Innocent until proven guilty, right? Technically, I’m not a criminal.” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “You’ve stolen billions of dollars worth of artwork.” “Allegedly,” Tony shrugged artfully. “Everyone needs a hobby."

Reasons why I love it: Oooh, Bucky, my man, you're in danger. Tony is sexy as hell as an untouchable art thief, Bucky doesn't stand a chance at resisting him. I love the UST in their dialogue, and the entire setting just makes me want to read a whole novel about this verse. It's amazing, and I really hope you give it a shot for yourself!

white flag

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: G Words: 1,005 Tags: High School AU, Science Bowl, Banter

Summary: “You sound uncertain,” Bucky said. “Maybe you should give up. In fact-” he dug in his pocket for a moment, producing a piece of white cloth that he thrust at Tony. “Here.” “Ew, Barnes,” Pepper wrinkled her nose. “No one but Tony wants to see your dirty underwear.” He barely spared her a glance, intense gaze focused on Tony. “It’s a white flag, and you better start waving it now, doll.” “Does he just… carry that around?” Rhodey asked quietly. “Like, all the time?” “Probably,” Bruce said placidly. “He does seem like the type.” Tony ignored them and pushed Bucky’s white flag back at him. “The only thing that I will be waving is your decapitated head on a stick in front of your weeping mother!”

Reasons why I love it: Tony is such a little shit, I love it! And I bet Bucky loves it too, that little faker. I would read a million more words in this verse, as is the case for pretty much all of these, really. This fic is fantastic, and I hope you go and check it out for yourself!

a pirate's life for me

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: T Words: 4,295 Tags: Pirates, One Night Stands, Pining

Summary: If Bucky Barnes didn’t stop chasing him across the seven seas, Tony was going to have to do something drastic, probably involving cannons, illegal activity, and a shit ton of rum. “You need to sort out your relationship with Barnes,” Rhodey scolded. “He’s chasing you like a scorned lover.” “Scorned?” Tony scoffed, shaking his head. “I was perfectly courteous the morning after. It was a mutual decision to not see each other again, seeing as he’s supposed to arrest me on sight.” “You left before he woke up, didn’t leave a note, and stole something valuable, didn’t you?” Rhodey looked to the sky like he was praying for strength. “Tony, if we get arrested because you had a one-night stand with the commodore’s first mate, I will send you to the gallows myself.”

Reasons why I love it: I grew up with Pirates of the Carribean, so this fic was like catnip to me. The reference are perfect, I love the banter between Tony's crew, and of course, the Winteriron is magnificent. I adore this fic, and I bet you will too, so I hope you'll check it out!

suicidal stolen art

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: G Words: 1,871 Tags: No Powers AU, Thieves, Flirting

Summary: Tony was going to kill Bucky Barnes. Tony was going to cut the other thief’s flesh arm off and beat him with it. It was bad enough that they were both running jobs in the same building, but they had to be going for the same necklace, too. Really, the universe hated Tony. He stared at the ceiling, sending up a very nasty prayer in case someone was listening, then turned back to the job at hand.

Reasons why I love it: I really enjoyed the back-and-forth in this one. They're clearly both equally skilled, and the power play that comes with that is just delicious. I love this one, and I bet you will too, so you should definitely read it!

#marvel #fanfic #a year in fanfic recs #fic rec #fanfic rec #ficrec #winteriron

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sashaisready · 1 year ago

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The Blood Pact: Chapter 11 - We aren’t them

Bucky Barnes Vampire AU x Female Reader

Reeling from a bad break-up, you're desperately trying to find a new place to live but the Brooklyn rental market is a complete nightmare. You take a chance on an intriguing newspaper ad and enquire about a room in a shared house, where you'd be living with two mysterious men. The catch is that they want something other than your money for you to pay the rent...the one thing they don't have

Series Masterlist

Chapter 12

There's some smut and angst (☹️) in this one as insecurities come to ahead and Bucky/reader fail to communicate properly (sooo unlike them, I know!)

“Bucky…I can’t…” you panted.

He pulled away and looked up at you, smiling wickedly and taking a moment to drink in your dishevelled appearance.

“Just one more. You can do that for me, right Doll? Just give me one more. A tiny, little one” he smirked.

You wailed as he resumed his position between your legs, diving back in and teasing your clit with his tongue and working you over with his fingers. He’d been at this for some time, you were perched on the edge of your bedroom desk with him on his knees - making you come over and over again until the sensitivity made everything feel like it was on fire. You’d slowly unravelled, your body feeling heavy as your speech became slurred and your brain melted out of your ears. He seemed to relish breaking you like this, delighting in reducing you to a quivering mess at his hands (and tongue).

Your climax arrived mercifully quickly and you yanked his head away from you as you rode through it, unable to cope with the feeling of his tongue on you any longer. He surprised you by leaping up and sinking his fangs into your neck as you came, almost passing out at the dual sensation of your orgasm and the feed euphoria. He moaned heavily as he fed from you, holding you tenderly as you jerked and spasmed and sighed against his cold cheek. As you came down from your high he carried you to the bed, gently laying you on the sheets as he pulled you to his chest. You both laid there for a few moments as your breathing settled back down.

He watched you smugly and you sighed at his arrogance, but still gave him a gentle kiss on his nose as a thank-you for his dedicated hard work.

He had been insatiable in the weeks since Steve had discovered the truth, constantly all over you and apparently unable to get enough. It was rare that you were both in a room without him touching you in some way. Now you didn’t need to sneak around, Bucky seemed to be wanting to make the most of it. He liked to incorporate feeds with your bedroom activities, knowing it enhanced the feeling for both of you. Most evenings you’d be endlessly high from the relentless endorphins, sometimes unable to sleep for hours because the adrenaline would be coursing through your veins.

You would sometimes go out in the evenings, to a late movie or to a nice bar (not that he drank, but would order a small, untouched beer to keep up appearances). Restaurants were out as you felt weird eating while he sat and watched, so you would do late night art shows or go to the theatre. Sometimes you just walked around the city, taking in the sights and sounds as he draped an arm around you and kept you close.

It all felt very easy, silences were comfortable and time seemed to slip away when you were with him. Adjusting to a slightly more nocturnal pattern was tricky at first, but fortunately your job didn’t require you to start at the crack of dawn as long as you met deadlines and got the work done throughout the day. And Bucky was very strict about you retiring to bed before it got too late so you didn’t mess with your sleep pattern too much.

You’d told your friends about him who were delighted with this development. They didn’t know who he really was of course, but were charmed by him when you’d brought him along to the bar one night and he’d bought everyone a drink, making an effort to talk to them all. Nat had given you an approving thumbs up as he passed her the martini he’d paid for. Wanda was thrilled you’d finally put Peter behind you, mouthing ‘he’s so hot’ when Bucky’s back was turned.

You were enjoying his company just as much as he yours, infatuated with him and his attention. The sex was like nothing else you’d experienced. Sometimes you could scarcely believe this gorgeous creature wanted to spend time with you, it often felt like he was widely out of your league. And it wasn’t just the physical aspect, you enjoyed spending time with him. You still had your playful back and forth and still ribbed each other. On weekends you would stay up until the early hours just talking, occasionally about his past but not always as he found it tough to re-live. You could feel yourself falling in love with him, and sometimes it felt like he might love you too.

But on other days your doubts and insecurities consumed you like a dark cloud. Was all this only happening because you were under his roof? Were you something fun for a vampire to pass the hours with (eternity was a long time, after all), a warm body to supply him with all the sustenance and sex he could ever want? You were self-aware enough to know your insecurities were probably in part due to how Peter had done a number on you, fracturing your trust and causing you to always be on the lookout for red flags so that you were never blindsided by a betrayal again.

But you had ‘the bond’ with Bucky, right? That meant you had a connection, something deeper. So maybe it wasn’t just food and sex for him, maybe he did feel what you felt? You knew it was a strange idea for a vampire and a human to be together, but your perception of ‘strange’ had shifted drastically since you’d moved in here…

Then your mind would wander to Steve and Peggy. They thought they could make it work but they couldn’t. Was that the inevitable path of all human and vampire pairings? Even if you did have strong feelings for one another, were you and Bucky destined to go down the same route? Were you just wasting time as the inevitable loomed? Maybe Bucky already knew all of this, and was just happy to have fun in the mean time?

You sometimes wondered if the only way you could really be together was if he turned you. But did he really want that? Did you really want that? Both he and Steve had made the most of what they were and how they had to live, but it was clear they would've made different choices if they had their time again. You weren't sure Bucky would oblige even if it's what you wanted. And did you want it? Sometimes you thought you did. But what about your life? Could you really give it all up for him? Would you really be happy if you never saw the sun again? If you lived forever in the shadows, never growing old, never having kids...

“What’s going on in there?” Bucky asked, derailing your train of thought. He tapped a curious finger on the side of your head and you rolled your eyes, swatting him away.

“Nothing” you sighed. “Just tired I guess”.

He rolled his eyes and prodded you in the ribs. “Oh you think I’m dumb, huh? I know you’re working something through. You always get that same look on your face when you are. C’mon, you know you can tell me anything”.

You shrugged. “It’s nothing. I’m fine”.

Unconvinced, he raised an eyebrow. “Something is going on in there. You might as well tell me as I’ll figure it out eventually”.

You scowled at him, irritated by his astute perception. It was always hard to hide anything from him. “Fine! I’m just thinking about…this…us…stuff”.

He peered over at you, resting his head on the pillow. “What about it? Are you not into it?”

“No, no it’s not that” you said softly. “I’m having a great time. I suppose I’m just aware of our differences, you know, you being what you are…and me not…and-”

“That’s not important to me” he interrupted briskly, sounding almost offended. “Why, is it an issue for you?” His face tightened and you could see he was getting annoyed.

“No…no of course not” you spluttered, suddenly struggling to find the right words. “I guess I just worry that I’m, well, convenient for you – and that’s a big part of the reason you spend time with me”.

He glared at you. “What does that mean?”

You weren’t sure how this had steered into a potential fight, desperately wishing you hadn’t said anything but also knowing you couldn’t turn back now. Maybe it was a good thing to get it all out there.

“Uh well…I live here. I was your food source and now I’m your sex source, too. I dunno sometimes I just worry that it’s all I am to you…you know, like Steve said. A toy to suck and fuck…”

You regretted your words the second they left your lips. Bucky’s face twisted into a frown and he sat up.

“Wow. Well, it’s nice to know how you really see me” he grunted angrily.

“Look…I’m sorry, you kept asking me what I was thinking and I’ve been worrying about it. Was I supposed to lie…?” you asked, your tone panicked and shrill.

Bucky shook his head, shrugging his t-shirt over his head and reaching for his discarded underwear as he began to furiously dress.

“You really think so little of me, Doll? You really think I’d be doing all this if that’s how I saw you?”

He was angry. Really angry. You found yourself getting angry too. After all he was the one who pushed you to talk, who said you could tell him anything. You were hoping for reassurance, not a shouting match.

“I’m sorry but that’s how I feel sometimes! Don’t yell at me…” you shot back.

He scoffed. “Honey, trust me – this isn’t me yelling, you’d know if I was yelling”.

He scowled at you and you felt a chill run through your bones at the concentrated rage in his eyes.

“Is it because you found out about my past?” he asked, his voice now more wounded than angry. “You can’t deal and you’re trying to push me away? Because I gave you an out…”

“No! Not at all. I’m just grateful you shared it with me. None of it affects how I feel about you” you stood from the bed, his hurt expression striking your heart.

“Bucky…c’mon. Can you blame me? This is all new to me, and you’re not exactly open with your feelings. And what about Steve and Peggy? It didn’t work out for them and they're my only frame of reference, so you can see how I would-”

“We aren’t them though, are we?” he spat back at you, his anger returning. “Fuck, I knew that story spooked you, and I get it. But it doesn’t matter as clearly you think very little of me if you think I’m only here for food and sex”.

“Bucky no, I just-”

“I don’t need anything from you, Doll” he fired venomously. “If I wanted a feed or sex, or a ‘suck and fuck’ as you so eloquently expressed, I’d go out and get it. I’ve never had any problems in that department. I don’t need you for that. You’re fun and all, but never my only option”.

You glared at him, wounded by his harsh words. “I see”.

You both stood in silence for a moment glaring daggers at one another, the tension between you thick and suffocating. You thought you may have seen a brief softening in his face but it vanished too quickly for you to be sure. Your anger rose once more as the full implication of what he’d said had sunk in. How dare he speak to you like that?

“Maybe you should, then” you finally said.

He flinched briefly, his eyes widening at the aggression in your voice. But just as quickly, he found his resolve.

“Maybe I will”.

With that he left the room, slamming the door behind him. You waited until you heard his footsteps fully retreat down the stairs before you started to cry.

#Vampire bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #the blood pact fic #james bucky barnes #Vampire bucky au #Vampire bucky x you #Vampire bucky x reader

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artficlly · 2 years ago

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lady of the ghosts [chapter 7]

After a great plague ravages your city, you are looking to marry to secure safety for your people. With a war finally ending, the nearby kingdoms are looking to celebrate. King James "Bucky" Barnes decides to continue his family's tradition of hosting a courting season. A medieval courting marvel AU.

Pairing: king!bucky x lady!reader

Warnings: ANIMAL SACRIFICE, BLOOD RITUAL/MAGIC, description dead body, anxiety, doubt, funeral, cremation, mentions of sexism, angst, tension, miscommunication, mention of war, mention of plague, general assholery, bitta fluff at the end, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 7.8k (eek)

A/N: me saying i want to write shorter chapters and then this happens? whoops. anyway i had a lot of ground to cover, sorry that this is rather plot/world building heavy. we are getting into the heavy romance stuff in the next couple chapters. the funeral scene has been living rent free in my mind for MONTHS so i was excited to finally write it (very midsommar core) please let me know what you think and rebblog/like! sorry for any typos - enjoy!!

chapter masterlist | main masterlist

You could smell the sea before you saw it.

Years ago, you believed that the smell of the ocean and the briskness of the icy air would be consoling. The sight of home after all this time – the whirling mass of the city – was supposed to make you happy. But all you felt was dread. Anxiety has been building for days as you grew closer. For so many years, you had been focused on returning to this place, yet now that you were here, you didn’t know how to progress. You would still need to marry to save the city and come up with some kind of solution. Thoughts of James’ proposal still hung heavy on your mind, burden after burden becoming a crushing weight on your shoulders.

Once your mother was put to rest, you would truly be alone. The last of a once great line, a final soldier facing down an army. A ship lost at sea during a storm. When you closed your eyes at night, you could see those enormous waves before you, impossibly large, crashing down and pushing you to the sandy ocean floor below.

If Peggy had noticed your nightmares, she hadn’t said anything. She wouldn’t mention how you would wake in a cold sweat, arms sore and tense as you had desperately tried to claw your way to the surface. With each passing day, you grew quieter until you found no need to talk at all. Some days Steve would extract a grunt or a half-smile from you, but mostly he watched on with concerned frowns, locked in conversation with James.

James. That was another man you had not spoken to in some time. Even the cold of the Stormfall Mountains could not compare to the chill that had grown between the two of you. That was another image that haunted you – the reluctance on James’ face when, moments earlier, you had poured your heart out to him that night in his room. Was he repulsed by you? Did he regret all the moments you shared? Had you pushed too far with your questions about Rebecca? You would never know because no words were shared between you. He pulled back, and you pulled back further, hoping to disappear into the snow and rock like a snow leopard, like a Ghost of the Mountain.

The icy, cobbled streets of Faliene were as you remembered. They were twisted and narrow, and layers of stacked housing were featured on every street. Banners and flags were still strung between upper floors, tattered and faded as they danced in the wind. Salt crunched beneath your horse's hooves, and a biting wind blowing from the docks sank painfully into your bones.

She was just as you remembered, but she was void. A husk of her former self, left gutted and abandoned.

There were no markets and no travelers on the streets. Houses lay abandoned, windows and doors boarded up with the remnants of chipped red x’s painted upon them. Shipping barrels lay untouched in alleys, shops empty and rotting. City of Ghosts. How many were taken during the plague? How much death had your child's brain washed away to protect you?

It was eerie, near silent. The only sound came from the docks, the soft lapping of the waves, the creak of the boats, and the distant chatter of sailors. So empty, so still. It was as if time had frozen and your procession was the only thing left thawed.

Even as dread gripped your core, you couldn’t help but feel the scene was serene. In your mind’s eye you could remember people scurrying to and fro, across the streets and in and out of shops, their goods tucked under cloaks. Children running between their mother’s skirts, and horses whinnying and snorting as they navigated their way through the packed streets. You can even hear a bell chime and you turn your head to the shop next to you. The visions dissipate, and all that is left is a gray, stone storefront with a painted trident fading above the doorframe. The arctic breeze blew through your hair like icy fingers caressing your scalp. Deep in your bones, you felt it – a calling, a whisper, welcome home.

You pulled your horse to a stop at a crossroads, a large open space near the center of the city. The view from the hill provided a clear landscape of the surrounding alleys, lanes, and the docks below, each scattering away from you like shattered glass. Up a wide, well-paved road to the right, Fort Faliene stood proudly, casting shadows on the mountain behind her.

You knew your ladies’ maids and footmen would be waiting up there, having been informed of your collective arrival. You could not bear to look at the fort for long; the ache in your heart was too strong. You were aware that without your family, the hallways would be chilly and empty, and part of you yearned to preserve those early memories, tuck them closely to your chest, and never let them go.

Your moment of thought was broken as Steve pulled his horse to a stop beside yours, shivering as he rubbed a gloved hand over his arms. James remained nearby, close enough to listen but not close enough to be part of your conversation.

“When you said it would be cold, I did not think it could get any worse than those mountains.” Steve mutters through clattering teeth. You bite back a smile, glancing back to watch as the carriages carefully roll closer over the grit and ice.

You were minutes away from Fort Faliene, the place you were raised and called home. Yet a part of you felt content to stay frozen atop your horse. A large serpent had crept its way under your skin, twisting, biting and squeezing your insides until you were left breathless. You were not ready to face those halls yet. Would you ever be?

“I need you to lead the carriages up to Fort Faliene. It’s up the road to your right, follow it to its end. The staff will show you to your rooms.” You finally speak for the first time in days, watching in your peripheral vision as both Steve and James’ faces morph into looks of confusion.

“Why, where are you going?” Steve asks, but you don’t respond.

Your tongue is heavy in your mouth and you fear tripping over your words. Instead, you nudge your horse into a trot, following the winding path down to the docks. If the two men were confused or called after you, you don’t hear it. Your focus is entirely on the docks below. Before you entered that Fort, the place where your father had died, you needed a moment alone with the waves and the wind.

—

The sailors had eyed you suspiciously as you walked to the water's edge, sand crunching beneath your boots. The men were bulky and decorated with tattoos and scruffy beards. The stench of fresh fish was overpowering but familiar; the sailors were using rigging and rope to haul the barrels from the docks. You had tried to pay them no mind as they paused their hauling, their kohl-lined eyes narrowing as they inspected your every move.

They didn’t recognize you, which you quickly realized. They had every reason to be cautious of an unknown noblewoman invading their space. But you did not wish to disturb them however; you just wanted a moment to breathe.

You peeled off your gloves, tucking them into your pocket as you crouched down next to the surf. The icy water stung as it rushed over your fingers, your bones aching with the chill. You did not submit to the cold, instead exhaling sharply as you tried to imprint that sensation in your mind forever. As a child, you played in these waters, barefoot and fearless. The possibility that those were your last happy memories and that everything could disappear in a matter of seconds was something you had not thought about at the time.

“Excuse me, Miss, are you lost?” A thick, northern accent calls out to you from the docks. A younger man stood, peering over at you. You didn’t recognize him, but you could tell he was around your age. He wasn’t as muscled and rugged as the other sailors – fresh meat, you assumed.

You didn’t reply instantly, instead withdrawing your numb fingers from the lapping waves with a short sigh. You rubbed your fingers together, feeling the salty moisture between your skin, before turning to walk back onto the docks.

“If you’re here for the funeral, Fort Faliene is back up–” The man began once more, but you waved your hand with a half-smile and cut over him.

“I’m not lost, just taking the air.” You clarified, pausing before him. Despite the chill, he only wore a thick woolen shirt and pants, which seemed to feature some holes that had been stitched with patches of mismatched fabric. Your eyes swept down to his shoes, noting the scuffs. Time had been hard on Faliene, maybe more so than you realized. The man sheepishly ducked his head, avoiding your gaze. His short hair was tousled by the wind, and a faint odor of fish was surrounded him.

“Oh, I–” the young man stumbled over his words, as if unsure of how to react.

Before he could gather himself, a gruff voice sounded from behind him. “It’s not safe on the docks, Miss.”

That was a lie; you knew it. The docks were always safe, and children would often play in the water while their parents worked. You knew it was rather that they didn’t want you here, a stranger in their home. Falieneans had never been the most hospitable and were incredibly superstitious. The eyes that met you as you glanced up were cold and uninviting. If you had not known the man behind those eyes, you might have felt uncomfortable under his gaze. But you did know him; you had known him since you were a child.

There was little difference from how you remembered him; maybe his beard had grown more gray and his face more wrinkled. Brannigan, Master of the Docks. His assistance in overseeing the sailors and the boats made him a close friend of your father. But from the icy tone and the distant look in his eyes… he did not recognize you.

“No need to fret, Brannigan, I will be out of your way soon.” You hummed to the muscled, older man. You watched as a flicker of surprise crossed his face, his eyebrows twitching upward. He looked at you, truly looked. His gaze turned from frigid to something more analytical. You didn’t speak as he stared, his eyes darting from the silver rings on your fingers, the trident necklace at your neck, and the way your hair was braided.

You watched as he slowly understood who you were, a glimmer of familiarity crossing his features. You could not blame him; the last time he saw you, you were a child. And now you were here, returning as a woman.

But as quickly as that familiarity crossed his face, it was gone, once again replaced with an indifferent gaze.

“I was sorry to hear about your mother, My Lady.” Brannigan finally spoke. His words did nothing to quell the gnawing anxiety in your stomach as you picked up on the bitterness of his tone. The sweet man you had once known was gone in that moment, replaced with something hardened and apathetic.

You kept your face straight as your eyes found the sailors, all of whom had paused their duties to watch the interaction with their own hardened stares. There was no joy or spark of excitement to see you. Their lady finally returned, and they were filled with resentment.

They were angry with you.

You nodded stiffly at Brannigan, meeting his eye once more. “Thank you. I am just glad to see her returned to Faliene.”

Brannigan gave you his own rigid nod in return, a hum grumbling in his chest. The ache in your own chest continued to grow, the imagined serpent squeezing tighter until you nearly forgot how to breathe. You could understand why they were angry; they had been abandoned in their time of need. For the years that your mother was ill, money and trade grinded nearly to a halt with no one to oversee the paperwork. Those duties were supposed to fall to King Harrison, who failed to do so once the war began.

And now those duties would fall to your future husband, if he decided to make it worth his time.

The Falieneans must have been aware of your situation and that of your mother. They must have been familiar with the intricacies of politics and war, but they had come to despise you. They assumed you were spoiled at Haiford Castle, and they were starving. You could see the hunger that clung to them, the holes in their clothes, and the weariness in their bones. You were stuck between two worlds, one of which considered you too northern, while the other considered you too southern.

“We had hoped for news of a marriage.” Brannigan spoke once more, his words being the final nail in the coffin. There it was – the hatred, the bitterness, and the loathing. You let out a sharp breath through your nose, trying to ignore the bile rising in your throat.

You felt the urge to explain, to pull apart all that had happened in your absence and lay it bare. You wanted them to understand that you did care and that you weren’t some foolish little girl. You wanted to explain the Rumlow problem, the relationship forming between you and James, and the older lords who simply wanted more children and not a ghost city–

But you didn’t. It wasn’t right.

Instead, you held it close to your chest and plastered on a small, brittle smile. “I had hoped so too.”

You quickly bid them farewell and walked stiffly back to your horse, hoping they had not noticed how badly your hands shook.

—

By the time you were walking through the front doors of Fort Faliene, you were sick with anxiety. A cold sweat had begun to form under your layers of clothing, and a sore ache was developing in your stomach. It took all your strength not to let tears slip on the ride back up the hill; that would have to wait until you were alone. Thankfully, it did seem like you were. Since there was no carriage, luggage, or guests in sight, the ladies’ maids and footmen must have shown the traveling party to their rooms.

The dark wood floors and stone walls were just as you remembered, with deep azure rugs, paintings, and banners lining the walls. A grand staircase stood before you, with blue-stained rope twisted around the bannister as decoration. Old netting hung from the upper levels, with seashells and driftwood intertwined to look like fish.

The scent was what hit you the most – something indescribable but specific to your childhood. Your heart squeezed as you noticed the rocks and seashells lining the windowsills, the bookshelves stuffed full of books, and the unique knick-knacks your father had once collected.

“You look like shit!” A voice called down from the staircase. You glanced upward, unable to hold back the smile that grew on your face. A young redheaded woman stood half-way up, grinning back at you. You knew she had never been one to consider her words before speaking. It was probably one of the reasons you two had grown so close during your childhood. She probably wasn’t wrong either; you imagined the stress and travel and had made you a bit haggard. The ache in your chest eased at finally seeing a familiar face who didn’t hate you immediately.

“Nice to see you too, Wanda.” You called back up to her, and she bounded down the stairs. Her skirts bounced and swirled around her legs, and you were only able to let out a soft ‘oof’ noise as she bowled into you. Her arms wrapped around you as she pulled you in for a hug, the strands of her hair tickling your cheek as she rested her chin on your shoulder.

You resisted the urge to inhale her scent, instead winding your own arms around her form as you hugged her back tightly. Another piece of home.

Wanda’s mother had been your mother's maid. You had run rampant through the halls of Fort Faliene, causing chaos and stealing food from the kitchens. The two of you would gossip and play along the docks, balancing on the wooden railings and softly singing Falienean folk songs. Wanda, like you, had grown into a woman since you had last seen her; in fact, she was a few inches taller than you now. Unlike you she had received her coming-of-age tattoos: a line on her chin and swirling patterns and runes across her fingers, hands, and forearms.

“You smell like horse.” Wanda comments in her dry, northern accent, wrinkling up her nose as she pulls away. You roll your eyes at her in return, allowing her to take your cloak into her hands. It seemed she had followed her mother's profession, becoming a maid for your family, though you could not say what duties she would have had in your absence.

“Travelling does that, I’m afraid.” You state as you walk up the stairs. They were the same dark color as the floors, with a cerulean blue runner down the center. The stairs reached a landing and split into two sets, which led to different sides of the balcony that overlooked the entrance.

“I trust the pass wasn’t too terrible to travel?” Wanda hummed as she followed you.

“It was fine. I couldn’t say that same for the guests though; but we all know traveling that pass is the initiation process to see who will survive the chill.” You reply, and Wanda snickers softly in response.

You paused briefly on the landing, straining your neck to look at the large portrait that hung overlooking the space. An oil painting of your mother and father after their wedding, smiling happily in their dress and suit. Your mother wore the heirloom necklace you had worn to the ball – layers of pearls and seashells – and seeing it now left you feeling uneasy.

“It’s creepy having them watching.” Wanda admits from beside you, and you bite the inside of your cheek, tearing your eyes away. Living within these walls must have been unsettling after the plague, having to grow accustomed to the eerie silence that smothered the city.

“I imagined these halls would feel… wrong without them, but it’s just as I remember.” You utter back, turning to face the next set of stairs. You see Wanda smile sadly from behind her hair, her own eyes briefly looking back at the portrait before following you.

“You sound like one of them now, your accent is all strange.” Wanda observes as the two of you ascend.

“I do not.” You grumble, and Wanda gives you another beaming smile, a teasing one.

“Who would’ve thought? I remember when we would curse the bastards while throwing stones off the dock! My Lady, a proper southerner, how wrong is that?” She mocks, and you visibly cringe, scoffing.

“Don’t say that, I’m already having a terrible day–” You begin with a groan, your head leaning back as you look at the high ceiling.

“I take it the docks didn’t go well?” Wanda interjects; she is still smiling, but you can sense the uncertainty in her tone.

You bite back a sigh. You don’t question how she already knew you had gone down there. She probably guessed you had the moment you didn’t turn up with the main party. Even as a child, you had the tendency to slip away to the shoreline, and your mother was often exasperated by your avoidance of important dinners. The two of you had treated the waters like a safe haven, a place you could disappear and cause havoc.

You chewed on what had happened down at the docks, debating if it was worth bringing up your worries to Wanda. You had been close friends once, and you hoped time had done nothing to ruin that bond between you. “Brannigan seems to have become bitter in his old age–”

“Don’t listen to that idiot.” Wanda interjects once more, her tone irritated, and you bite your tongue.

From her reaction, your assumptions are correct. The cold stares were purposeful; there was distrust and unease spreading through your beloved home. Your people were angry with you because of things you could not control and because of things they could not know. They felt abandoned by your mother and, in turn, by you. Your one duty was to marry and provide security, but it seemed you had failed even that. A part of you felt like a fool for assuming they would welcome you with open arms.

If only your mother had not grown sick, if only the lords of the continent were not pigs in fancy dress, if only James was not in debt to Haiford... You could list so many reasons to feel sorry for yourself, yet you were still stumped for solutions. You were still in the midgame, hesitantly moving pieces as you tried to fix everything.

Maybe you were just a foolish girl after all.

“What if he is right?” You mumbled, assuming that Wanda had heard whatever grievance the sailors had with you.

“About what?”

“About me? I get the feeling that he does not approve of me as a lady, like I am somehow sabotaging Faliene. All the sailors hate me, he must be muttering things in their ear. He had the gall to bring up my lack of marriage prospects in front of all of the men.” You groan as you look down at your feet in defeat.

Wanda lets out an annoyed hiss, rolling her eyes while her shoulders tense. “Brannigan has been muttering about change for years now, he’s just too much of a pussy to do anything about it beyond bitching and moaning to anyone who will–”

Wanda's words stopped abruptly as you rounded the corner onto the balcony. You look up from your feet to see why. Steve and James linger by the banisters, trying to seem like they hadn’t watched and listened to the whole interaction unfold below them. Steve turns his back, as if trying to hide his face from you. Your lips press into a fine line, James’ gaze burning on you as always.

“I keep forgetting we have company for once.” Wanda mumbles under her breath to you, and you shake your head, pulling your gaze away from the two Galantians as they intensely try to make themselves look busy or distracted.

“Don’t worry, they won’t say anything.” You murmur back. “In fact, they will probably find it funny.”

“You know them well, then? It seems I have missed a lot.” You don’t miss the teasing tone and can only muster a low groan in reply.

Wanda giggled softly in your ear, linking your arms together as you walked past James and Steve. She offers the two men a curt bow of her head, while your gaze remains fixed strictly ahead. The last thing your anxiety needed was the two men meddling with your emotions.

“I had you moved into your parents' old room, I hope you don’t mind.” Wanda mentions as you reach the end of the balcony, turning down one of the long corridors that lead to the main wing. “The rest are in the guest wing.”

“Were my parents' belongings removed?” You ask cautiously, following the familiar path down the halls and up a spiraling staircase.

“Some of your fathers were after... but most of it remains the same. I can have them removed, if you like?”

“No, leave them. I just... hoped that they hadn’t been discarded.” You admit sheepishly, and Wanda gives you another one of her sad smiles.

You were eager to dismiss Wanda once you arrived in your parents old room, wanting a moment alone. Although some spaces remained empty where you knew your father's belongings would have been, it was mostly the same as you remembered.

It seemed to have been regularly cleaned and dusted, with a new set of sheets and furs atop the bed. One of your father's many bookshelves stood against the wall, half empty. Your mother’s vanity lay mostly bare, with the exception of some shells you had gifted to her as a child.

Tears pricked your eyes at the sight of the half-empty closet. You ran your fingers through the fabric of your mother’s old gowns, left behind as you two fled to the capital. Beyond the lingering scent of dust, you could still make out the faint smell of her floral soap and perfume clinging to the fabric.

You could not stand to look at your mother’s crafts which still decorated the room. Cushions embroidered, the fabric and thread faded by the sun. Even the large lace doilies remained draped over the bedside tables. You wondered how many pieces of her craft still lay unfinished in your dowry chest. You recalled your mother handcrafting your wedding veil not long after your eighth birthday.

With a hard swallow, you kick off your boots and curl up sideways on the bed, staring up into the canopy. Only then do you allow the tears to flow.

—

The drums began at dawn. They started out low and distant, and it was not until the sun started to rise higher over the waters that they picked up speed, rumbling and thundering down the streets. Faliene came to life for the first time in years, her heart beating so quickly that it drowned out the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.

The final traveling party had arrived the night before, after a week or so of traversing the mountain pass. Families had descended from the Stormfall Mountains, and sailors had returned from the open ocean, their beards frozen and their skin chapped. Today was your mother's funeral. You needed to be strong.

The crowd congregated on Caloe Peak, a small outcropping of land close to the fort. An open, level landing was surrounded by mounds of snow. At its center lay the funeral pyre, wood logs stacked to hip height with your mother's body atop. The stiff, pale limbs of your mother were clasped at her chest. An assortment of flowers, shells, and rocks formed an outline around her body. Her long, dark hair spread out beneath her, giving her a small, sickly appearance. In spite of that, she finally appeared at peace.

You stood near the back, your cloak obscuring your form and your hood pulled back to hide your face. The crowd had not yet become aware of your presence. Instead, a knot in your stomach tightened as you considered the situation in front of you.

The Falieneans and the visitors made up two groups within the crowd. In contrast to the Haifordians and Galantians, who appeared more uncertain, the Asgardians appeared at ease and unfazed by the situation in front of them. James was standing at the front of the group, his eyes sweeping the Falienean women as if he were looking for you.

Beside a flaming torch, Priest Helman stood. He was an older man, balding with a salt and pepper beard. He had numerous tattoos on his body, and below each of his eyes, kohl was drawn in a line. Rither and Arthard, his acolytes, stood beside him, attempting to control a rambunctious, wild mountain goat that had been captured and brought down from the mountains.

Only as you expertly weaved your way through the crowd did the Falienean’s pause their murmuring. Your heavy cloak dragged across the icy ground, and the material was soiled and damp. The fabric itself was embroidered with swirling runes and designs, which served as spells of protection, and the edges were trimmed with a thick, heavy coat of fur. It was critical that you remained strong and protected in preparation for the ritual. Falieneans believed that spirits hung close when a funeral was near, and it was hard to predict if a spirit was friend or foe.

As you paused in front of Priest Helman, a heavy silence fell over the clearing, the drums falling silent for the first time in hours. Brannigan could be seen in your peripheral vision, his face as cold as ever, arms crossed over his chest. This funeral was a test in many ways, not only in terms of your strength as a daughter but also as a leader. Brannigan hung near the crowd of guests, assuming the role of explaining the significance of each part of the ritual.

Helman reached out with wrinkled fingers, carefully removing the hood from your head before wordlessly unclasping your cloak. You wore a simple black dress with short sleeves that exposed your arms and shoulders to the chill. Helman murmured a brief prayer under his breath, and you felt goosebumps spread across your skin.

“It is believed by our people that when there is a funeral, spirits linger. Until it can be freed by fire, the soul of the deceased is imprisoned inside the body. The women can see and feel the spirits, so it is their purpose to protect the soul so it does not become another spirit, trapped between worlds.” Brannigan’s rough voice explained, and the crowd hesitantly hummed in response.

You continued to move through the motions of the ritual as he spoke. Having observed and participated in numerous funerals in your youth, you knew every step by heart. Getting down on your knees, you encircled the mountain goat's face with your hands, gently hushing it as it wriggled in your hold. You could see the whites of its eyes and the split pupil darting around in fear. As you caressed the goat's face with your fingers and muttered a silent plea, Rither and Arthard kept the animal still.

“Give us strength, little one.”

The animal jerks under you, its scream of pain cut short as Helman swiftly runs a knife along its throat. Blood spills down the goat's neck, dripping into a large wooden bowl below. With the goat's knees buckling, you move with it, stooping lower to the ground. You mutter soothing words as its eyes roll back in terror and its chest heaves. Only as its body grows still, slumping to the ground fully, do you withdraw your fingers from its coarse coat.

“The women must dance around the body, creating a wall to keep the spirits away. The closest living relative must lead the dance, it is their duty to stay dancing until all the other women have fallen and the body is burnt to ash.” Brannigan continues to explain as you carefully close the eyes of the goat.

Some of the men advance, picking up the body and dragging it out of the clearing. The carcass would be delivered to the kitchens, where it would be prepared for the subsequent feast. Slowly, you rise once more, an arctic breeze caressing your skin as you lock eyes with Priest Helman.

Rither and Arthard take the bowl of thick, crimson blood, pouring a small pitcher of salt water in. Their hands reach into the mixture, swirling and mixing it until the liquid is smooth. Their hands extend and lather the mixture along your arms, upper chest, and neck, sending a chill down your spine. The layer is warm at first, then quickly grows cold under the frigid breeze blowing from the ocean.

“What is the blood for, then?” You hear one of the guests ask as you flex your fists, exhaling sharply as Rither and Arthard move on to the crowd of women. The mixture is slick against your skin, droplets pooling in your palm and cleavage as you find your position next to the funeral pyre.

“For strength. The essence of the animal will give the women the strength to continue on, the ritual can last for hours or days. The leader needs the most strength, so she is given the most essence.” Brannigan continues to explain. You watch as the women of Faliene line up, allowing Rither and Arthard to flick blood onto their faces.

“And what happens if she falls before the others?” The familiar voice of Prince Michael asks, and you don’t have to look up at him to hear the sneer in his voice.

“Then her mother’s soul is lost forever.” Brannigan says, and you swallow hard. You doubted Brannigan would hold you in much respect if you failed or gave in to weakness.

Around the pyre, the women slowly start to join you, forming several layers of close circles. The young and elderly occupied the outer ring farthest from the pyre, while you stood in the one closest to it. Those who were most likely to fall first would be on the outer rings, while the strongest were in the middle as a final defense against the spirits.

As Helman moves through the rings holding a blazing torch, silence descends once more. The dry brush comes to life in vibrant orange and yellow hues as the pyre ignites. Helman pulls away from the circle, the wood crackling and smoke filling your nostrils. Only when you give a small nod do the drums start once more.

Your ring started dancing to the right as soon as your hands were linked to the women next to you, while the next ring started dancing to the left. You envisioned it from above to resemble a swirling mass of skirts, with each ring moving in a different direction in time with the beat.

Your circle drew inward, tighter, and nearer to the flames as you whirled around the pyre. You could feel the heat licking at your skin. Relief was quick as you pulled outwards again, arms stretching out as far as they could go until interlocked hands were ripped apart. You all spun in place three times, then moved toward the fire again, hands interlocking as you continued to spiral in the opposite direction, pulling in and out like a beating heart.

It was easy to fall into a trance, only focusing on your breath, where your feet fell, the heat of the fire, and the smoke in your lungs. The crowd of people became a blur; there were only you and the fire now. You could not see the Haifordian’s sneers, James’ heated gazes, or Brannigan's cold stares anymore; you were alone with the spirits now.

It didn’t take long for the first to stumble and drop out, mostly younger children and the elderly, as the pace became too much to follow. You could taste copper in your mouth; your breathing was ragged; and a layer of sweat was growing across your skin. Even if the air burned with each gulp you inhaled, you felt alive. The women who stood on the edges began to sing Falienean folk songs along with the drums, swaying in place as they silently encouraged those still dancing. You could’ve sworn in your daze that you saw the spirits hovering – translucent and frightening with crooked smiles and long talons.

You did not notice as the sun arced further into the sky, then back down to earth. You did not even notice as the crowd began to thin, guests abandoning their posts in favor of sleep as the sun was replaced by the moon. As time continued to pass, you became one with the drums and fire, your limbs aching with each step.

Briefly, you jolted and stumbled as the woman beside you fell to her knees, a nearby man dragging her out before she was trampled by the dancers. The fire had begun to grow cold; the roaring flames had turned to crackling embers. Even as the smoke cleared and you were only left with the icy winds that burned your lungs, you did not fall.

One by one, the dancers grew tired, falling to their knees, limp and exhausted. The once-slick blood that had layered your bare skin had begun to crack and peel, with some sections smudged by the sweat that had gathered. The sun began to rise once again, its warm rays of light a welcome gift for your stiff, exhausted body.

The crowd grew in size once more, with guests gathering as they sensed the dance was nearing its end. Across the ashes was Wanda, and the two of you locked into a silent stare as you continued to dance. You could see her movements were growing sluggish; she was beginning to trip over her own feet as she fought to stay upright.

Through your haze, your reactions slowed as Wanda finally fell, her knees biting painfully into the frozen earth below. You staggered as you came to a stop, your chest heaving and your legs trembling. Wanda’s hands dug into the frozen mud, a small sob escaping her as the exhaustion and pain took over her frame.

Your body did not feel like your own as you walked slowly towards her, your lungs burning as you cocked your head to one side. You could not crouch down beside her out of fear of not being able to get up yourself. Instead, you extended your hand, using the last of your might to pull her to her feet and into a brief embrace.

“Savor your strength.” Wanda choked into your ear, tears still trailing down her pale face. “Your journey is not over yet.”

—

You crouched by the waters edge, scooping handfuls of the arctic waters onto the exposed sections of skin to scrub away the blood and ash. it stung your flesh and left an ache in your bones. Your legs were still shaking from exhaustion as you knelt by the water's edge. The crowd had dispersed, and they were now returning to Fort Faliene for the eagerly anticipated feast.

Even though the last few steps of the funeral ritual were simpler to complete, they still required all of your remaining energy. You were expected to gather handfuls of your mother's ashes, and place them inside a small ceramic urn. The ashes had still been warm as you collected them with your bare hands, with bone and rock hidden within. The last of the ashes that could not be stored within the urn would be spread at sea by the next boat to depart.

After gathering the ashes, you walked down to the docks and got onto a rowboat, which ferried you to the Island of Tilla. Tilla was for the dead. The living were only allowed to step foot on the Island to bring the dead to their resting places. The only exception was the winter equinox, when Falieneans celebrated their ancestors.

You had only visited the crypts a few times in your life; the dark, icy, winding stone corridors had terrified you as a child. Now, as an adult, it intrigued you. You found yourself examining the urns of your ancestors, your fingers tracing over the damp stone shelves and engravings.

Your exploration was only interrupted when you came across the well-known urn of your father, where you ran your fingers along the dust-covered blue ceramic. You placed your mother’s urn next to him, uttered your prayers, and returned to the surface.

Even though the cold made your hands and body tremble, you persisted in washing the final remnants of the ritual off your skin. You knew that if you took a bath, you would fall unconscious in the warm waters before you were able to attend the feast. So, instead, you opted for the more painful solution – shocking your system awake with the icy sea water. As usual, the ocean wind was biting, cutting deep into your bones until even your core felt frozen.

“You look like you need this.” A familiar, deep voice spoke from behind you. You whirled your head around, your eyes snapping to where James stood, extending a heavy cloak for you to take. Your legs wailed in protest as you stumbled to your feet and gratefully buried your hands in the plush furs that trimmed the edges.

“I take it that you’re talking to me again, then?” You grumble at the King, maybe a little too aggressively, “You haven’t spoken to me since the pass,” you clarify at his bemused head tilt.

As you sweep the cloak over your shoulders shuddering while clasping it in place, James rubs his stubbled jaw in contemplation. Only as you pull the fabric closer to your body with a content sigh do you notice the scent. James’ scent. Your eyes flicker over him briefly, now noticing the glaringly obvious lack of a cloak around his own shoulders.

“I wasn’t ignoring you.” He finally speaks up. “I was waiting until you came to me.”

You give a long and hard stare, trying to hold still as the shivers continue to grip your body beneath his cloak. You clutch the cloak closer to yourself as a gust of glacial air blows straight through you. James seems mostly unbothered by the cold, with only a tinge of pink to his ears and nose. His clothing was thick and expensive, mostly sparing him from the chill.

“I don’t understand.” You finally say, your voice strained as you try not to let your teeth chatter. James lets out a long sigh, motioning you away from the water that laps around your boots as the tide pushes up the shore.

“You seemed… troubled. I understand what it is like to have anxieties about your people and their expectations of you. I thought it better if I allowed you some space to mull it over and be with them.” He explains, gently taking hold of your forearm through the cloak as he leads the both of you off the sandy shore and back onto the docks. Your calves are relieved to be on solid ground once more, no longer fighting against the shifting sands.

“Oh.” Is all you can mutter, your fatigued brain working twice as hard to digest the information it was given. “I thought… I thought you were upset with me for prying about Rebecca that night.”

“What?” James half-barks, bewildered by your assumption.

You furrow your eyebrows. Did he not… remember that night? Your tone is confused as you speak up. “That night when I came to your room because Steve and Peggy were... We spoke of the past, I thought I had upset you or somehow overshared–”

“Why would you think that?” He questions, his tone equally as confused.

You halt your walking, chewing the inside of your cheek with a sigh as you try to decide if your worries are worth divulging. It seemed that James was trying to be more thoughtful than you initially assumed; had you let your anxieties build until you constructed a fantasy in your mind?

“Because... because I reached out for you and then Steve walked in and you wouldn’t even look at me, it was like you were disgusted by me or–” Your words fade off as James looks at you hard, and then, to your surprise, he laughs. He actually laughs.

You feel like recoiling, maybe even crying, but then he closes the distance between you, pulling you into his arms. In your weariness you don’t protest, instead you lay your head against his strong sternum. Below your ear, his chest rumbles with a chuckle before giving way to a short sigh as he brushes his fingers through your wind-blown hair. Some of the braids had come loose during the dance, and you could only assume it smelled of smoke.

“I couldn’t look at you because I knew I wouldn’t have been able to control my actions.” He admits it hesitantly, and your attention perks up at that. “If Steve hadn’t walked in... I would have kissed you right there on the spot.”

“James–” You mutter in astonishment, pulling back your head as you look up at him. His own head dips, his nose ghosting along your jaw and neck as he begins to mumble his next words to you. It was as if a tightly coiled rope had finally snapped within James, his touch and words were suddenly insatiable, as if any sense or sensibility had been unbridled. Your body shivers, this time not from the cold.

“You drive me mad. I am sick with madness for you. I can’t look at you because I can’t control my thoughts. I lay awake at night thinking of you, your scent, and the way you feel. Every day on that damn mountain, I would look at you and imagine how you would taste, how you would react to my touch, the sounds you would make. Do you understand? You’ve intoxicated me, you’ve possessed my mind, body, and soul with desire.” His voice is husky as he speaks, desperate and ravenous as his fingers grasp at your waist tightly and his lips graze across your neck.

Arousal pools in your gut, and your legs feel even weaker than before. You whimper softly at his words. Your hands make a fist around the fabric of his shirt, holding on desperately in the hopes that your knees won’t fully buckle.

“That is why I distanced myself, I knew it was unfair to burden you with such thoughts while you were in mourning and planning the–”

“James.” You cut him off. Your voice is strained, your mind is dizzy and delirious from his scent and touch. Somehow finding the strength, you lift one of your hands and gently caress his face with your thumb. “I feel the same way.”

The grin that he gives you is nearly enough to knock you off your feet once more. If it weren’t for the lingering fear that someone was watching this very public display, you would have stood on your toes to kiss him. You would’ve let him consume you whole.

Unfortunately, the sensible part of your brain knew better, or rather, thankfully, because right on cue, Steve and Wanda rounded the corner of the docks. The two seemed to hesitate for a moment, noticing the proximity at which you both stood. A short, sharp sigh escapes your nose as you glance between Steve, Wanda, and James.

Reluctantly, you pull back, instantly missing the warmth of his touch. Even from a distance, you can see the wide grin that both Steve and Wanda sport. You expected a lengthy integration when you were next alone with Wanda.

“I think you need to fasten a bell on Steve.” You mumble lowly, and James chuckles, briefly rubbing your back before once again gently leading you up the docks.

“He does have a way of interrupting us, doesn’t he?”

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