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shadeysprings · 10 months

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A Toast to New Beginnings

—Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary — Reconnecting with your childhood best friend was supposed to be a wonderful experience—until it wasn't.

Warnings — noncon/dubcon, drugging, implied kidnapping, childhood best friends to lovers with a dark twist, possessive Bucky and more that I could have forgotten.

Word Count — 1.7K

A/N — My second entry for @thebasementspouses The 12 Men of Christmas Writing Challenge. And it was such a thrill to write for Bucky again. As soon as I was able to choose what item to pair with him, my mind just went berserk. I mean, how could you not?!

Shoutout to my beta @sgt-seabass. But all mistakes are mine alone.

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️

“It’s really good to see you again, Bucky.”

The smile you give him is mirrored on his face as he takes your empty plate, stacks it with his, and places them in the sink.

It’s been years since you last saw him, years since you ran away from home and established a new life in the city. You thought he would be angry for leaving him, your only friend in your small town, after you had both promised to be there for each other no matter what.

Though life back then was tough and unpredictable. And as a teenager, it gave you no choice but to leave everything behind, to escape the hardships. Including him.

The years seem to have worn on him with the way he’s grown. You couldn’t believe that this is the same Bucky you knew who roughed up the kids that made fun of you, and stole lollipops from the local store just because you wanted them. He was reckless back then, a bad boy as the old women called him. But now, he seems like an entirely different person and yet at the same time familiar. Like home.

Gone is the long hair you’ve always known him to have, recalling how he beat up the boys who teased him for it, and loved how his mother would comb it out for him despite saying how much he disliked it. Now, his hair is neatly trimmed with the shadow of his beard just kissing his face. He’s also grown bigger; muscles bulged from his shoulders and arms, almost making his navy henley shirt too tight for him.

Guilt suddenly swirls around you, twiddling your fingers together as you remain seated at table and watch him tidy up the kitchen. You even take the time to observe his apartment—a complete bachelor’s pad. But you can’t help but notice the small touches he’s added that reminds you of his childhood home.

He’s never brought up the past once since you met last week by chance at the grocery store. Never once has he shown any emotions of betrayal for what you’ve done. But with you, it’s all you’ve been thinking about after parting ways and agreeing to his invitation to reconnect.

“You remember my mama’s eggnog back then?” He says, disrupting your train of thought, a smile still ever present on his lips when you look up at him.

You smile once more, the memory washing over you like a wave. “How can I forget? She always made mine with chocolate.”

“You always were her favorite,” he laughs heartily. “Liked you more than her own son.”

“Well, she always did want a girl. And I’m the closest thing to a daughter she’ll ever have,” you say with equal mirth.

“Yeah, yeah. Go sit on the couch.” Bucky instructs with a playful inflection in his voice. You stand from the dining table, already making your way to the living room. “I’ll bring you a mug before I give you your present.”

“Present?” That surprises you.

Taking a seat on the couch, you finally notice a small red box sitting on the low coffee table, your name written on the card. You didn’t know he was preparing something for you, and you came to his place empty handed. If the situation were different, if this were to happen in the past, you would have teased each other about it. But with so much time wedged between the both of you, you can’t help but feel another bout of remorse and realize how much things have changed.

“Here you go.”

You look up at Bucky and take the offered mug, the warmth radiating in your palms. He joins you on the couch, a mug for himself in his hand, and a smile grazes his face when he takes a sip. His blue eyes cast over at you, curiosity present.

“You’re sad.” He says, turning in his seat to face you completely. “Did something upset you?”

Placing your drink on the table, you clasp your hands tight and stare blankly into nothing. Of course something upset you. Everything since Bucky came back into your life upset you. It wasn’t because he was part of the past you wanted to forget but more so because you abandoned him.

Yet here he is, making you meals and your favorite drink, the gift adding to the pain that you desperately keep hiding deep in your chest.

“Bucky— I—”

“You don’t have to say anything.” You look over at him when he interrupts, his mug now sitting beside yours. “You did what you had to do, I know. It took time to accept it, but I eventually did.” His hands then envelop yours, his warmth seeping into your skin. There’s a slight smile on his face, the same one that always brought you comfort whenever something troubled you.

Slowly, he reaches over to give your cheek a gentle pinch, ultimately making you chuckle at the childish gesture. Your mug is placed between your palms, and he takes his all the same, sipping on it before nodding in your direction.

“Go on. Mama’s eggnog always makes you feel better during the holidays,” he urges.

“Well, she always made mine special,” you respond, sticking your tongue out playfully at him, and take a heavy gulp of the warm beverage. But your face twists when you swallow, a sour aftertaste scattering on the surface of your tongue that makes you look at your mug, then at Bucky.

“Is something wrong?” He asks in concern.

“No,” you say, trying to appease him, but the cough you release lets him know otherwise. “Just— I don’t remember it being this bitter.”

“Shit. I must have added too much cinnamon in it.” There’s a frown on his lips as he stands from his seat, holding his hand out for the mug. “I can make you a new one if you like. Probably hold back on the cinnamon this time.”

“Oh, don’t bother.” You tell him, schooling your features as you take another sip. “It’s still good. But maybe I can have a glass of water with it?”

“Already on it.”

You take another mouthful as he leaves for the kitchen, hoping to get used to the bitter aftertaste. But it’s an endeavor you stop, placing the mug back on the coffee table and instead reaching out for the red box to guess its contents.

But your heart begins to beat at a rapid pace, hands shaking uncontrollably, and you gasp when you feel your muscles tighten then loosen altogether, making you lean back against the cushions of the couch like a wilted flower as you try to decipher what’s happening. You try to call for Bucky to help you in your mysterious ordeal, but no matter how hard you try, no words leave your lips. And in just a matter of seconds, you’re rendered helpless and incapacitated.

Your eyes widen when you see Bucky return, eyes cast down on you as he sets the glass of water beside your mug. He says nothing, not even questioning how you’ve come to be this way, yet there seems to be no sense of urgency permeating through him. And instead, he lets out a chuckle when he takes your legs from the floor and lifts them up to the couch.

“Well, what do you know! It does have a fast reaction time,” he says with a grin, taking a seat at your side and reaching over to caress your face.

What? He did this on purpose? But why?

Confusion runs wildly in your head as tears stream down your cheeks. You feel nothing yet everything all at once; the sound of his heavy breaths when he leans closer, the heat that flutters on your skin when he grazes his fingertips against it, and the sight of his intense stare, how the blue of his eyes grow bolder, the concern and, dare you say, love in them earlier replaced with hunger, possessiveness and something darker.

“After years of waiting, I finally have you, my Dove.”

That name.

It’s been years since you’ve heard it. And it was only him and his mother who called you as such. The name that used to bring you joy each time you heard it. Yet now, it elicits fear in your chest.

Sapphire orbs bores into your eyes while his hand caresses your cheek. “Unlike before, I won’t let you go that easily.” His hand snakes down to your neck, then lower to your breast, taking a tit in his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “In all honesty, you did this to yourself. If you never left me, we would never be in this situation. We could have been married. Living a simple life on the outskirts of town. Maybe even here in the city.” Releasing your breast, he pushes his hand lower, skating down your blouse and stopping just at the edge of your jeans. With deft hands, he undoes the button and pulls down the zip, your chest pounding as you foresee the coming events, wanting to kick him away from you—but it’s no use.

You no longer see your childhood best friend, your protector through the years. What you see is a stranger, a monster, here to haunt you through the next.

He’s strong, pulling the fabric off your thighs and tossing them haphazardly to the ground. He then stands, eyes raking over your body, and you’re once more stricken with fear when he starts to undo his pants.

“Now, I’ll make sure that you never leave me,” he continues, kicking his pants away and taking your legs in his hands, lifting them over his shoulders as he kneels before you.

You do nothing but watch in horror and feel his ministrations when he pushes your panties aside and presses his thumb against your clit. He rolls it slowly, teasing, dampening your cunt with each stroke he makes, pulling at the pleasure you desperately tamp down, but all your efforts are useless with your body subdued.

He lines his cock against your cunt, feeling the way he rubs the tip against your folds, taunting to penetrate at any moment.

“This time, I’ll make sure we’ll be together forever.”

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