#and a bucky bear (already got all the fabric cut out for that one)

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all! I am feeling like making a poll or two, so I'm looking for suggestions for things to put on either my "what to make next" poll or "which pattern to share next" poll Options of things to make include but are not limited to a cuddly owlbear! A capybara! A goose! A poison apple! An isopod! another giant octopus, or pretty much whatever?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silver Lining 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

Part of the Silverfox AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You turn onto the sidewalk, the world turning white with the snowstorm. Your boots slip, untied and loose on your feet, as you put your head down against the swirling flakes. All sound is dampened by the thick heaps on the ground and the continuous flurry all around.

It takes you a moment to get your bearings. You’re pretty sure you’re going the right way. You should’ve paid more attention on the drive over. There’s a lot of things you should’ve noticed before now.

You slip on a thick patch of snow and catch yourself on one knee. You blink as snow clings to your eyelashes as you peer around. Your ears are whistling but hot with the plummeting temperature and you can barely see the glove on your own hand. If the bus even comes, it won’t be for some while, and it will be at least one transfer to get back to familiar ground.

You squeak in fright as you feel a tug on the back of your coat, then a hand on your arm. You’re hauled back to both feet and turn to face your accoster. Bucky doesn’t wear a coat as his silver hair collects white powder and he squints against the wind.

“H-hey,” you try to pull away.

“It’s bad out. You won’t make it–”

“St-stop!” You holler in a pitchy tone, “I-I-I’m fine.”

“I can’t let you go out into this,” he insists, “look around,” he points to the house nearest but you can’t see much through the wall of white pelting down, “power’s out. Plows won’t be for a while. Come back, just until the roads are cleared.”

“N-no, I’m f-f-fine. I c-c-can take care o-of myself,” you wriggle free of his grasp.

“I know you can,” he puts his hands up as snowflakes melt into the fabric of his shirt, “please, they got travel warnings out. You can’t be out here right now.”

“Why w-w-won’t you l-leave m-me alone? Y-y-you don’t e-e-even l-like me,” you accuse.

He’s quiet, face contorted against the whipping snow, his cheeks tinged slightly with the cold. He shakes his head, “I never said that.”

“Y-you don’t g-gotta.”

“Well,” he grabs your elbow and yanks you around, “I don’t hate you.” He marches you down the walk, your soles slipping, making resistance perilous, “so get inside.”

“W-w-woah,” you stumble as he keeps a brisk pace, his soles mulching into the layers of snow, “s-slow–”

He takes you back down the walk towards his house. The pool of sick you spat up is already hidden. He shoves you ahead of him as you get to the steps and follows you closely, reaching around you, nearly flush to your back, to open the door. He points you inside.

You kick your boots off and clamour in onto the mat. You turn to face him as he snaps the door shut behind him. He combs his fingers into his hair, messing it up to shake off the snow. You ball your fists as you stare at him, dizzy from the suddenness of your return.

“You have no idea, do you?” He sneers. “You go out there without a thought. A storm like this is dangerous, you know?”

“J-j-jeez,” you chatter, “you s-sound like my dad.”

He growls as he rips his boots off, shaking his head, “sounds like a smart man.”

“B-B-Bucky, I would b-be f-f-fine–”

“I made you tea before the power cut,” he interjects, “drink it, wait for the storm to calm. Then you can tell me to fuck off. How about that?”

“I d-d-didn’t–”

“Are you so unused to people giving a shit about you that you can’t accept a single nice thing?” His voice rises, startling you. “I mean, I heard your mother on the phone, I hate to put my nose where it doesn’t belong but Jesus Christ–”

“H-hey,” you murmur meekly, but not loud enough to stop him.

“You’re a smart girl, you just don’t give yourself a chance because you got all these other idiots dumping on you,” he rants at you with his hand in the air, “you shouldn't listen to them. You’re thirty years old, goddamnit, and you wrote a damn good script.”

You blink at him dumbly. He cringes as he seems to remember himself, to recall that he’s a grumpy old man, and that you’re just some irritating bug flying around his head. He lifts his hand to the back of his neck and scratches as you sway and look at the carpet.

“Take your coat off and come get your tea before it gets cold,” he sidles past you, brushing closer than you expect. He stalks off behind you but you’re too nervous to look after him. You hear another raspy hiss, “fuck…”

You put your armful down on the low bench, your movements slow and slightly shaky. You wet your chapped lips with your tongue as you stare at the door. You shrug off your coat and hang it on the rack then leave your boots on the rack.

You turn to face the house and wring your hands. Somehow, he can make hospitality seem like an attack. You hear the gales battering outside the walls as the snow continues to trim the window frames. He’s right, you were just as stupid as ever to go out into that. You’ll never tell him that though.

You slowly traipse down to the kitchen and find him there. He has his elbow on the counter as he leans over a mug and a book. There’s a booklight clipped to the top of the page in the dim of the power outage. Another glow comes from behind him, a candle lit and flickering with the scent of burning wood.

As you approach, he slides a mug towards you without looking up. You thank him in a mousy voice and let the warmth of the porcelain soothe you. You inhale the scent, it’s an interesting flavour but still steaming too hot too taste.

“Gingerbread…” he intones without looking up, “it looked interesting…” he pauses and lets his eyes flick up, “seemed like a you thing.” He reaches to the front of his shirt, unhooking the wire framed glasses there. He wipes them with his sleeve before putting them on and refocusing on his book, “you can tell me if it’s shit.”

You’re silent. You don’t know what to say. You were more than prepared to disappear into the blizzard, but not this. The realisation slowly sinks in. You’re trapped here and not just by his indomitable will.

[babyboibucky]

Project V: Pierced

Pairing: College!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky convinces you to get matching nipple piercings.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, mention of oral, piercing pain lmfao, these two being dumbasses as usual

A/N: Maaaaaaaan, seeing Seb with them piercings really hyped me up to write shit lmfao

Project V Masterlist ||  MAIN MASTERLIST

“Let’s get matching something.”

Bucky proposed as he lounged on your bed, his notes against his chest. You just got out of the shower, a towel wrapped around your chest with water droplets dripping from your neck down to your cleavage. You saw how Bucky’s eyes followed the droplets until it disappeared into your towel.

“Matching what?” You asked and started applying lotion all over your body.

Bucky’s ears turned red as he watched your hands slide up from your calf up to your thighs, the hem of your towel riding up a bit to expose your skin beneath. You snapped your fingers right in his face and made a face, “My eyes are up here, why the fuck are you so horny all the time?” you complained.

“You’re in a fucking towel and I can literally see your pussy from here. Of course I’m gonna feel horny!” he defended. “Anyway, matching something. What do you think?” Bucky asked again, turning to his side as he watched you continue with your post-shower routine.

You shrugged, “How about bracelets? Rings?” you suggested as you slipped on your underwear.

“Too basic.” Bucky said.

“Matching tats?” you asked and then gasped when an idea struck you. “Get a tattoo of my pussy and I’ll have your dick inked on my butt cheek.”

Bucky deadpanned at you, “Are you for real?” he asked. “Also, I don’t want matching tattoos. It’s too common. And Steve and Sam got matching tattoos. We gotta stand out ‘cause we’re not just regular best friends.” he explained, finally sitting up on your bed.

You were now clad in a loose shirt and skipped on the shorts. Turning around to face Bucky, you placed your hands on your hips. “You’re just jealous that Steve decided to get matching tats with Sam and not you.” you teased and sat down next Bucky on your bed.

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Whatever.” he dismissed and thought about what else the both of you can get.

You were combing your hair when Bucky found himself staring at your tits, noticing your pebbled nipples straining through the thin fabric of your shirt.

And then had a eureka moment.

“Let’s get our nips pierced!”

-

“Can I still back out?” you asked, tugging Bucky’s hand as the both of you entered the tattoo parlor.

You refused to get your nipples pierced, you clearly remembered shooting that idea down as soon as Bucky suggested it. But Bucky, Bucky, Bucky...he had a way with his words and his tongue that made you cry out yes to his suggestion.

Fucking Bucky and his talent at cunnilingus. If that man tried to convince you to help him hide a dead body by eating you out, you would’ve started digging a grave as soon as he was done with you.

He was that good at it.

“Pussy.” Bucky teased.

“Using ‘pussy’ as an insult doesn’t make any sense because this pussy can take a pounding. You should know that better than anyone.” you spat back with a scowl.

Bucky frowned at you, “Okay, fine. I take that back. But no one’s backing out. C’mon, we’d be the coolest BFFs in town with these piercings.” he insisted.

You were about to retort back but was immediately cut off when a guy called both your names, confirming the appointment that was made a week ago. Bucky took your hand and pulled you with him further into the parlor, leaving you with no choice but to give in.

“Alright, so nipple piercings huh?” the guy asked. “Are we gonna do both...or?”

You raised your hand, “What’s the aftercare like?” you went straight to the point.

“Oh well, just don’t touch it for as long as you can. It takes about 6 months to a full year for it to completely heal. Wear a cotton bra or skip on it if possible. Try not to tug at the piercings so when doing the nasty, try not to include the nipples.” he explained so casually.

You turned to Bucky, “When doing the nasty, try not to include the nipples. You sure about this, Buck?” you asked, knowing how much Bucky loved playing with your tits during sex.

Bucky swallowed, “For how long should we avoid the nipple play?” he asked shamelessly.

“Couple of months to a full year.”

“Fuck!” Bucky hissed, ignoring how the piercer burst out laughing at his disappointment.

“So what? We still gonna do this or?” you asked.

Bucky pondered for a couple of seconds before letting out a sigh, “I really want us to be the coolest BFFs out there.”

-

The both of you decided to show off the piercings back at the dorm, wanting it to be a moment of surprise. The Uber ride was quiet for some reason, tension thick in the air.

“You screamed like a bitch back there.” you said, finally breaking the silence.

Bucky looked offended when he snapped his head towards you, “My pain tolerance is low, okay?” he excused. “And it really did hurt. At least I didn’t whimper like a whore.” he said.

It was true though, you did whimper like a whore getting fucked by three dicks all at once. You always thought you tolerated pain pretty well, getting a Brazilian was a regular thing for you and it never made you flinch. Nipple piercings though? Jesus fucking christ, you couldn’t even explain how much it fucking hurt.

You laughed sarcastically at Bucky’s rebuttal, “Better than screaming as if you were being pegged with no prep.”

As soon as you arrived at Bucky’s dorm, he scrambled to lock the door in hopes of Steve not coming home any time soon. He’d already seen you wearing Bucky’s boxers, he doesn’t need to see the both of you showing off your newly pierced nipples at each other.

“Okay. You ready?” Bucky asked as he stood in front of you.

“On three.” you said before starting off the countdown.

As soon as the countdown was over, Bucky reached for his shirt from behind, removing it at the same time you removed yours, followed by the thin bralette you wore underneath.

“Oh my god, we actually did it.” you snorted, looking closely at the ball closure ring that Bucky went for.

“Shit, I didn’t know you got straight barbells on yours.” Bucky asked, his eyes glued on your slightly red nipples. “Fuck, your tits look so good with piercings.” he grunted breathlessly.

You licked your lips and groaned at the confession you were about to make, “Look, I’m gonna be honest. I’m so fucking turned on right now.”

Bucky groaned, “Me too. Jesus, I thought I was gay because I got an erection when the dude pierced my first nipple. I mean, he was pretty handsome too.”

“I’m sure we can fuck but we just have to avoid the nips so just hit me from the back.” you said and quickly shimmied off your pants together with your panties.

Bucky rushed to remove his and went over to his bed, kneeling behind as you positioned yourself on all fours. You got so wet at the thought of Bucky’s nipples having piercings that you didn’t need that much foreplay to get ready. Bucky slid his fingers along your folds, gathering more wetness from your entrance before smearing it.

“Fuck, just get on with it!” you moaned and gripped the bedsheets tightly.

Bucky jerked his cock a couple of times before finally sliding easily into your cunt. He choked on his moan at the feeling of your velvety walls clenching around his hard cock. He had been hard too on the way home, no wonder there was tension in that Uber ride.

“Go fast and hard, I’m not gonna last.” you urged, pushing your ass back to meet Bucky’s thrusts.

Placing a hand on your neck and the other on your waist, Bucky fucked you the way you wanted. Thank goodness you started taking pills because Bucky didn’t have the patience to even put a condom on. He felt like he was going to nut as soon as his eyes landed on your pierced nipples, so perky and still swollen.

“Oh shit, fuck. I’m so fucking horny.” Bucky said, his jaw tensing as he watched your ass bounce every time he slammed back inside of you.

A couple more thrusts and your entire body trembled, a soft moan slipping past your lips when you came hard. Even without being touched, your nipples felt sensitive because of the piercings, the sensation only adding to your pleasure when you reached your orgasm.

“Shit, fuck. I gotta see those tits bounce. I can’t cum without seeing them.” Bucky said and pulled out to gently turn you around.

Now on your back with your legs spread open, Bucky slipped inside and continued to fuck you. His hands gripped the pillow beneath your head for leverage as he jackhammered you onto the bed, your hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders as you felt another orgasm approach you.

You lifted your head up to meet Bucky’s lips in a kiss, moaning into his mouth when you felt the tip of his cock kiss your cervix. Your vision blacked out momentarily when you came for the second time. Just as when you regained your senses, Bucky got lost in his own orgasm that he completely forgot about the piercings. He grabbed your left breast and pinched your nipple, your scream joining his loud moan when he came.

“Fucking hell, Bucky!” you cried out, the pain too much to bear that you also didn’t notice that your hand clawed at Bucky’s right pec with your middle finger getting caught in his piercing, accidentally ripping it out in the process.

“Motherfucker!”

-

“What the hell happened? Are you both okay?!” Steve worriedly asked as soon as he arrived at the ER of a nearby hospital.

Upon getting Bucky’s voicemail about rushing to the hospital, Steve panicked and went there as soon as he could. He had been Bucky’s emergency contact for a long time now and he was used to receiving calls from police stations due to how often Bucky got himself in trouble, especially when drunk. But Bucky calling, sounding like he was in immense pain, telling him that he needed to go to the hospital?

It was the first time it ever happened so it was understandable for Steve to panic like a husband who got a call informing him that his wife was going into labor.

You and Bucky exchanged glances, faces red from embarrassment before nodding.

“We’re good.” you curtly responded, scratching your neck.

“What happened?” Steve asked again, brows furrowing as he looked at you and Bucky alternately.

You nudged Bucky’s ribs with your elbow, widening your eyes at him as you urged him to do the explaining.

“We uh...werippedouteachothersnipplepiercings.” he murmured to himself.

Steve frowned, “I didn’t catch a word that you said.”

“We ripped out each other’s piercings by accident.” you repeated, clearly and slowly this time.

“Did your earlobes get ripped off or what?” Steve asked, taking a closer look at both your ears.

Confusion washed over his face when he noticed that your ear piercings were still intact and that Bucky didn’t even have his ears pierced. Steve straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest, looking at the both of you like a reprimanding father.

“What did the two of you do this time?”

A nurse stepped into the scene and offered Steve a kind smile before turning to you and Bucky, handing over a prescription.

“Make sure to follow the instructions when applying the ointment and both your nipples should heal properly.” she explained before walking out.

“Nipples?!” Steve gasped out.

Bucky sighed but shrugged in response, “At least we’re the coolest BFFs out there with matching nipple piercings.”

-

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond​ @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @im-squished @tcc-gizmachine​ @sipsteacasually​ @prettyintopeerpressure​ @weloveyasmin​ @est19xxshit​ @bloodhon3yx​ @dressed-in-prada​ @lizette50​ @thatfangirl42​ @sunflowerbunny2​ @unmagically​ @okiegirl24​ @sugarpunch-princess​ @enlyume​ @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp​ @lyoongx​ @just-deka​ @nobody-will​ @jaziona92 @elisebuitron​ @dpaccione​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x​ @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes​ @iloveangstposts​ @weenersoldierr​ @asemistablehundredyearoldman​ @reidbuck​ @lizzarooni​ @girlfriday007​ @bonkywobble​ @lost-in-the-stars03​ @its-yasbxtch​ @whoth3hellisbucky

[certifiedskywalker]

Regret Me - Sharon Carter

Zemo warned you that Madripoor was a lawless place, a den of pirates and thieves. The last time you saw Sharon Carter, she was neither a pirate nor a thief, save for the fact that she had stolen your heart long before. Turned out, she kept it as her favorite treasure.

WARNING: a n g s t

“Hopefully you can make something here work.”

“Hopefully? You got a whole damn shopping mall,” Sam quipped as he stepped up to one of the clothing racks Sharon pulled out. The blonde shrugged and leaned up against the nearest wall, dark eyes full of waiting. While Sam scanned through the array of options and Bucky looked on with disinterest, you fixed your attention on Sharon.

There were the faintest hints of a smile on her lips. Small lines, the dip of her dimples, deepened slightly at the corners of her mouth. When was the last time you saw Sharon Carter smile? When was the last time you saw Sharon Carter at all? Too long ago.

It was before the Blip, but after your stay on The Raft. When Steve broke you, Sam, and Wanda out, you decided to run your own way for a while. Your path led you back to Sharon, her apartment, or what was left of it. She was packing, stuffing what she could into luggage. In your mind, there was a dull, dim echo of your name falling from her lips and...

“Y/N?”

...not saying goodbye.

“Y/N?”

Sharon’s eyes were on you when you managed to pull yourself from your faded memories. You quickly averted your gaze and shook your head slightly in the hopes of clearing it; though, your muddled recollections remained and hung in your mind like storm clouds ready to release a downpour. When you looked back up at Sharon, her posture was straightened. She no longer leaned against the wall and there was worry perched in her furrowed brows.

“Sorry, what?” You asked, scratching at the back of your neck. Every nerve ending of your body itched to move, to run away and hide, but where? Sharon’s home, her new world, was so, terribly unfamiliar to you. It made the want to disappear into the home you remembered with her all the more painful to bear.

“I have choices that might be more your style,” she replied, slim arms crossed over her chest. You forced your eyes to remain trained on hers, despite how you longed to take in the full sight of her. “You interested?”

Sharon was always strong, it was one of the many things that initially drew you to her. But there was something in how she carried herself, how she looked at you in that moment, that made her seem invincible. Perhaps it was the all-black outfit, how it fit like a uniform but was entirely removed from her days as a S.H.I.E.L.D. operative. She looked ready for a fight or a party, and you felt that she would be happy with either.

You nodded at her question before you let yourself dwell on the allure of her confidence. Sharon’s lips quirked up in a full smile and she turned around, flicked her hand behind her to entreat you to follow. You glanced at Sam and Bucky, only for the latter to stare warily back at you. Glints in Bucky’s eyes revealed the same nervousness that tightened your chest.

Be careful.

You dipped your head, a wordless concession before you trailed after Sharon. The sound of her heels as they clicked against the hardwood floor matched the quickened pace of your heartbeat. To distract yourself from the alarmingly swift rush of blood through your body, you glanced around the channels of the apartment. Despite the lavish level of living the sleek modern furniture and expensive, most likely original, works of art, Sharon’s house did not feel like a home. It was bare bones.

The hallways you passed through were stark. Where old apartment in D.C. was decorated with her and he friend’s smiling faces, plants, and life, this High Town suite was lifeless, pictureless. The only thing that lived inside its walls was Sharon, but even then you weren’t entirely certain that she was living as she once was.

When she glanced over her shoulder, to check to see if you followed her, her dark eyes brightened. For a moment, she looked like she did before you both ran away. You had run in separate directions after Steve took Bucky to Wakanda. When Sharon smiled softly at you, you struggled to remember why you didn’t go with her.

“Like I said, some of this might be your style,” she said as she walked into what you assumed was her bedroom. Sheets on the queen-sized mattress were without a wrinkle, without a touch. “But, it’s been a while since I last...since I’ve seen you.”

“Yeah,” you said as Sharon walked over to a large set of closet doors. “I missed you.”

Sharon paused at your words. Her hands settled on the handles of the closet before they tightened. Knuckles, strained, turned white, but when she turned her head to face you, Sharon wore a smile. No longer were her eyes bright; in fact, they mirrored the blank, white walls of her apartment. The sight made your stomach twist.

“I’m flattered.”

Before you had a proper chance to react to the coldness of her tone, Sharon threw open the closet doors. Racks of silk slip dresses, pressed suits, and formal robes, all in clashing patterns, hung in troves. Some were sleek and monochrome, while others were borderline floral, a jungle stitched into fabric. Once you accumulated to the colorful assault before you, you glanced over at Sharon. Her smile had dropped, but her gaze remained trained on you.

“Your personal wardrobe?”

She shrugged. “Pick out what you like.”

You opened your mouth to reply, to ask why she seemed so frigid, when she turned her back to you, busied with her phone. It had been years, you told yourself, and she was still trying to help. Times were hard and clearly changed her, but she was still Sharon to the core. She was still the Sharon you once loved, the one you gave up everything for.

You frowned as you looked back to the closet. Idly, you searched through the hangers. As you flicked through each fanciful piece of clothing, your eyes landed on a simple shirt and jacket. The tags stuck out of the collars and caught your attention. They were both in your size.

You pulled the jacket from the rack and thumbed the tag to read it more clearly. “This is in my size, in your closet?”

“Yeah, that,” at the sound of her voice, you glanced up at the blonde. She eyed the jacket in your hands and nodded. “I saw it, a while back. Thought of you.”

Her dark eyes flickered up to hold your gaze. She watched you, carefully, read every microexpression you could not help but show. You almost felt her calculating. She had wanted you to find the jacket, to ask about the size.

“Sharon.”

“Try it on.”

You sighed and shook your head to clear it of all the things you longed to say. “I don’t think it will do us any good. Maybe I should go and-”

“Please.”

Never in your life had you heard Sharon Carter beg, not for anything. She took what she wanted, whether it was a job, a bullet, or your heart. She made it so easier for you to fall for her because you knew she was already prepared to catch you. When you were caught at the airport in Berlin, held in The Raft, you thought only of her. The moment you were free, you ran to her only to run away. Why?

“Please.”

You cut through the memory to the fear. What was the why: because you would run to her every time if given the chance, and that scared you. You got caught but she would look at you with all the want in the world. She would be ready to meet you in the middle as you made your way back to her. Sharon deserved better. Despite how everything else around you had changed, that fact had not.

“Okay,” you conceded, unable to deny the pained look in Sharon’s expression. You had caused her too much hurt to bring about anymore. As you stepped over to the full-length mirror propped up against the wall, you caught Sharon’s reflection behind yours. Her eyes were glued to you as you slipped the jacket over your shoulders.

Unable to deny how it fit so well, you admired the look of your reflection. As your gaze traveled up, you caught Sharon’s eyes in the mirror. You turned on your heels to face her and saw that the ache that she once wore had morphed. Her eyes drank in your form but her expression was blank. Even as she stepped towards you with hands extended out towards the lapels of the jacket, you could not read her. She was always a good spy.

Wordlessly, Sharon reached out and adjusted how the jacket sat on your frame. A whiff of her perfume, rose-like florals with hints of something more bitter, filled your nose. The smell was enough to throw you back into the memory of the last time you saw her, your not-goodbye.

"It fits, really well,” you said in the hopes of grounding you back to reality, to that moment. “You've really made a life for yourself,”

"I have.” Sharon brushed her hands along the lapels to flatten them out. She pulled away, met your eyes, and, suddenly, you could read her. "You could've come with, helped me."

"I..."

"This life could have been ours,” she pressed. “After I stole the shield and wings. I wanted you to, I asked you to. Do you even remember?”

"There was a lot going on. The team was..." You trailed off at the thought of the Avengers and let your eyes fall from Sharon’s. At least you were all alive back then.

"We were both wanted criminals, branded traitors,” Sharon continued, denying your excuse. “Why...why didn't you come with me?"

Your heart ached at her question, her tone. The confidence you saw, you admired only a few precious minutes before faded into the quivering bottom lip of insecurity. Sharon wasn't invincible, despite all her trying to be. You were her weak point, just as she was yours.

"I was scared...I didn't want you to regret me, me coming with."

“Regret you? Y/N,” her eyes widened, “I loved you, I needed you.”

You shook your head and gestured to the sleek room around you. “You don’t need anyone, Sharon. Look at what you’ve built for yourself.”

“I wanted to build it with you,” she said as her hands grabbed yours. You glanced down at your joined hands then back up at her face. The pain was there again. It hung in her dark eyes and downturned lips.

“I wanted that too,” you admitted, “but we...we were on the run, and if I got caught-”

“You wouldn’t have, I wouldn’t let you,” she interrupted.

“That’s my point. You would risk your life for me and I would have risked it all for you, then we would both be lost. We might both regret it, us.”

You slipped one of your hands from her and reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. Sharon leaned towards your touch for only a moment. Then, as you tucked the hair behind her ear, she thought better of it. Her eyes met yours, held your gaze with an intensity that refreshed the image of her strength in your eyes.

“I regret having to miss you.”

“I did too.”

Sharon nodded and swallowed hard before she added, “I mean, we didn’t even really say goodbye.”

“I didn’t want to think we had to, I guess. We are here, so…”

“We are here,” she echoed. For a long moment, you and Sharon stared into the other’s eyes. You swore you saw her lips twitch up slightly, an almost smile, but it didn’t last. It melted away as she began to lean towards you.

She pressed her lips to your forehead. It was a gentle kiss, only the smallest reminder of what you and Sharon used to be. Though, it was enough to make your heart swell and dull the soreness of your heart. When Sharon pulled away, you saw that, perhaps, it did the same for her too. She seemed less grim, more like she was when you, Sam, Bucky, and Zemo first ran into her: confident and new.

“So, no goodbyes. Only, ‘see you laters’.”

“Only ‘see you laters’,” you agreed. Sharon nodded and stepped away from you. She started towards her bedroom door and, for a second, you thought she was going to leave you alone. Just as you were about to resign yourself to your thoughts, your regrets, Sharon glanced over her shoulder. She smiled.

“C’mon, we got a party to go to.”

[leascorner]

j.b.b. | Safe [1/3]

Summary: “You keep an eye on her,” he ordered Alpine in a whisper. The cat only blinked at him in return.

Bucky nodded and made his way to the front door. Slowly, he closed the door of his bedroom and got his gun out. He didn’t know who could be at his door at this time of the night, and for a moment, he could only see Tom, being there to finish his work.

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Warnings: Description of wounds and mention of blood, mention of violence, mention of guns, probably inexact medical facts, mention of alcohol consumptions

Word Count: 4k

a/n: Feedback is greatly appreciated. Next part published on May 29th.

Masterlist / Part 2 >

Something was wrong.

Bucky didn't know if it was the metallic taste in his mouth, the fact Alpine didn't even greet him when he had stepped a foot in his apartment like usual or the electric atmosphere everywhere around him. But all his senses had suddenly awoken. Chills down along his spine, he instinctively reached to the gun at his waistband.

Slowly, Bucky progressed through his apartment. On his left, the kitchen was just as he had left it this morning; his mug in the kitchen sink, pack of coconut sugar near the coffee pot that he did not have time to put away. Clear. He moved to the living room. Alpine was not on the cat tree near the bay window nor on its favorite spot on the couch. The blanket he had slept on last night was still on the floor. Clear. He was now at his bedroom door. The bed was perfectly made, like it had been for a couple of days since he could not bear sleeping on it. He checked underneath the bed, in the closet. Clear.Last but not least, he moved to his en-suite bathroom. The door had been put against the door frame, but it was not closed. It wasn't something that he ever did as Alpine's litter was in the bathroom. He slowly pushed the door open, ready to fight.

What he found in his bathroom was not what he had expected. Agent Y/L/N was standing right there in front of him. Messy hair. Clotted blood all over her nose and chin. Ripped up clothes. Right arm wrapped around her stomach, potentially hiding wounds from the amount of blood on her shirt and keeping pressure on it at the same time. Left arm outstretched and holding a gun. She did not look good.

At the sight of Bucky, Y/N immediately dropped the gun on the counter of the bathroom sink she was leaning against, well aware he was not a threat. She looked deathly pale, ready to pass out at any minutes. Through the fabric of her shirt, Bucky could see the distortion of her right arm; from there, he couldn't tell if it was an open-fracture or a very huge lump. Her left foot was not resting on the floor completely and she had applied a tourniquet a little above her knee to stop the bleeding of what seemed to be a bullet wound. She was gripping the edge of the bathroom sink with her now free left hand, both for support and to get through the pain.

“I didn't know where else to go.”

Her voice was hoarse and low. Bucky could not see if she had bruises on her neck, but he could tell from her voice she had been strangled. She had obviously been beating up, but all he could think about was how - and why- she knew where he lived. He could count with his right hand the number of people that knew his place and it included Sam, his partner, and Sarah, Sam's sister. She sure wasn't one of those.

He searched his bathroom, making sure she was alone, as if he was not aware his bathroom was tiny and that he could see from the doorstep if there was somebody in the shower stall. Clear. He returned his attention to Y/N, still gripped at the edge of the bathroom sink. She must have gone through his stuff as there were a bloody washcloth and a clean towel on the counter near her. A bottle of vodka was there too, for disinfecting her wounds or for pain relief, Bucky wasn't sure. Neither of that he ever needed, it was one of the perks of the super-soldier serum in his veins. Alpine was sat on the toilet seat, eyeing her carefully from afar.

Bucky finally lowered his gun.

“What happened?” he questioned, checking through the small window of his bathroom if he saw anyone suspicious roamed around the neighborhood.

“He figured it out,” Y/N mumbled, so low he barely heard her, but it still got him to look back at her.

  She had been undercover for the past two years, working on breaking up a network of handguns resale for the NYPD. Bucky joined the case only about a year ago when it turned out Tom O’Brien, the boss of the network, was also very interested in the super-soldier serum. Growing closer to Tom, Y/N had found out he was planning on creating new super-soldiers and selling them as lethal weapons to the highest bidders. At that time, Tom had yet to get a hold on the serum and Y/N's mission aim radically changed to gather any information regarding people involved in this new kind of resale.

Bucky had only met her once with Sam. It was in Mexico, last year. Y/N was accompanying Tom's right-hand man to complete a deal with some Mexican gang. They had met at her hotel spa, where Y/N was supposed to have booked a massage session. He had barely recognized her from the picture in her file. She had her hair cut shorter and dyed in lilac color. She was the exact contrary of the frail and fragile person he had imagined her to be. In reality, she was very smart and hard-working. She had let Sam and Bucky know about everything she already knew, and the duo introduced her to some new targets for her to get information on.

The encountered lasted less to thirty minutes and they never met in person again after that. However, Bucky kept an eye on her; he joined the small team that was handling the information she would gather. The team was made of Greg, the inspector in charge of the case; Marco, the IT genius; Larry, whom was an infiltration expert at the NYPD and Faith, a new recruit that came in very handy as it turned out she had an excellent memory and could recall every details in a file after just one read. They were mostly monitoring her whereabouts through CCTV. Her place was also under surveillance; there were mics in every room and a small camera in the living room. Y/N had also put mics at Tom’s places – in his office and his apartment; that was where they were staying the most.

Bucky had spent the last year or so watching or listening to her. In the street, in the train, at home - though she was not home much. There wasn’t a day he hadn’t watched her every move or listen to one of her conversations. As creepy as it may sound, he felt like he had known her for a very long time. He knew she liked to get takeout from that Chinese place near the train station. He knew she didn’t like coffee. He knew the way she would scrunch her nose when she was thinking – yes, he thought it was adorable. He knew she liked her black sneakers – the shoes she would always wear. He knew so much about her and her habits. Like her Starbucks ritual.

Every morning ever since Y/N had been undercover, she would go to the small Starbucks two blocks down from Tom’s place. Marco had hacked the boutique camera so they could watch her. She would usually order anything with tea in it and just stand there, chatting with the bartenders about how their day was going. To others, it looked like a habit of hers. To the team, it was a sign she was still alive and doing well. Sometimes, she would be abroad with Tom, doing god-knows-what, and it was always a celebration when she would be back to her morning rituals. It naturally became the first thing Bucky did in the mornings when he got to the office; get in front of his computer and watch her order tea. He knew it was stupid, and that she was more than capable of taking care of herself, but seeing her, smiling, happy, it made him feel close to her and the lump in his throat – that he recently identified as the fearof anything happening to her – would disappear a little. He cared about her so much that the three months ago, when she ordered an expresso instead of her usual tea, Bucky had to break protocol just to make sure she was okay. He had called her from a phone booth on her cell phone and made up some shitty story of being an old friend trying to reconnect. Only for her to laugh at him because she had recognized him, but she still played along. In the end, she simply hadn’t been sleeping alright and needed something to get going in her day. Sam made fun of him for days after this incident, but all that really mattered to Bucky was to know she was safe.

Tom was no angel; he was even the complete opposite, known by everyone to be pitiless. Bucky didn’t know what Y/N did to earn Tom’s trust. All he knew was that it was not romantic, nor sexual in any way, but Tom still had taken her under his wing to work for him. She truly worked wonders but also took a major risk for her life. A step wrong and he would end her like she was nothing. And all this time, she had been doing an amazing work. The amount of information she got back to the team was huge. They identified a super-soldier resale network taking place on several continents. They were just a few weeks away – days even, of the biggest good catch in the NYPD history.

Bucky and Sam had made arrangements to get her safe as soon as it was all over and planned for her to take out into the countryside before the Tom’s trial at which she would be the main witness. She would be freed of her character; she would finally be herself again. And Bucky could not wait to know the real her.

  “How could he have known?" Y/N asked more to herself than anyone else. She had gone back to whatever she was doing before Bucky went home; that was to say vigorously trying to remove the dry blood spread out all other her face. "I know he wasn't suspected a thing. Tom is not that smart. He knows his business, but he is oblivious to anything else. He didn't even know about the mic in his office.” She stopped, having a moment of clarity, realizing Tom must know now.

“We’ll worry about that later.” Bucky interrupted her. The more blood she was getting off her face, the paler he realized she was. He was pretty sure she had lost a significant amount of blood, but she was still talking and sort-of standing so he knew it was not that bad. He also knew it could worsen very quickly and that her right arm and left leg most certainly required medical attention. “We need to go to the hospital," he insisted.

Y/N did not even look at him and continued to talk to herself. “He knew my real name; it can only come from us.” She kept repeating ‘it can only come from us’ over and over, while washing her face. Bucky was not sure what that was supposed to mean because all he could see was how red the white washcloth nowwas, and how he could see all the scratches appear on her face. Her right eyebrows arch. Her left cheekbone. Her lower lips. He wondered how Tom, or whoever she had fought with, was. He wondered how she could have gotten away and made it to his place; she could have been anywhere, but she still chose to cross all Brooklyn to seek refuge to him. And he still wondered how she could have known where he lived.

Y/N hissed and threw abruptly the washing cloth in the sink, making Bucky look back at her. She was now eyes closed, her left hand holding her right elbow to keep her arm in place, repeatedly counting to ten to get through the pain. She must have had moved her right arm too much. Bucky didn’t know what was going on in her head, what she was even doing here. He knew she was more than capable of doing it herself, taking care of herself without help, but since she was there and he was there, he was going to help her.

“Let me see,” Bucky ordered.

Y/N slowly turned to him to allow him access to her shoulder. Bucky delicately lifted the cloth off her body to have a closer look. She yelped out in pain when his metal fingers got in contact with her skin, palpating her shoulder to understand what was going on.

"Dislocation." Y/N stated, already fully aware of what he just had deduced and of what he was about to do. "Please do it quickly," she whispered.

Bucky nodded and abruptly pulled on her right arm in a certain direction. The sound of her arm bone getting back in the joint made Alpine hiss; the sound was as uncomfortable to hear as it must have been for her to feel. In the contrary, Y/N did not make any sound; her left hand was gripped on his right arm, nails digging into his skin. Her eyes were still closed, and her eyelashes were wet. Whatever the amount of Vodka she had drunk it obviously had not been enough for her not to feel the pain. Bucky wished he could have taken it all away for her and cursed himself for not having any painkiller in his damn apartment. It had been a long time since he had felt any physical pain; all he felt now was brief discomfort whenever he would get injured thanks to the serum in his veins, but he knew – he remembered, deep in his guts – what it was like, and he didn’t want anyone feeling that. Especially not her.

“I am sorry,” Bucky said, brushing tears off her cheeks with his metal fingers.

Her breaths were shaky and her breathing rate erratic, as Bucky slowly bent her elbow to have her arm rested against her chest. He was trying to be as gentle as possible while manipulating her arm, remembering his own memories of what happened to his own left arm. The same memories that sometimes still kept him awake at night, even after all those years.

When he looked back at her, her eyes opened to look at him in return. Bucky could see all the details of her iris and he realized how close he was standing from her. This was what he had stupidly craved for so long, to breathe the same air as she was, and that was how life gave it to him.

“I'll get you cleaned up and changed, okay?”

She nodded, releasing his arm from her hold. The idea of bringing her to the hospital had completely disappear from Bucky’s mind. He would take care of her himself, he knew this was the right thing to do, but he would still have 911 dialed on his phone, ready to call anyway.

  Bucky started by getting back to his bedroom to pick from his closet a T-shirt and one of the few scarves he owned. When he got back into the bathroom, Y/N was standing against the sink counter and Alpine was sat on the counter just at her side, looking up at her, purring. Though it surprised him – Alpine wasn’t very fond of people just like he was, he noticed how the purring was calming Y/N down.

Bucky left his clothes on the next side of the counter and stood in front of her, wondering what he should do first. “I need to take it off,” he said, pointing to her shirt.

Y/N nodded again, and he started unbuttoning it. He discovered a lacy nude bra underneath, something he never thought he would see, but he purposely chose not to think about it and remove her left arm sleeve first; it was then easier to remove the right arm sleeve without moving her injured upper limb much.

She stood there, in her jeans and bra, looking up at him. She could have done something, but she just stayed still, letting him take care of her, like she knew he had done all those months when he was looking out for her. Though tonight, he clearly failed.

Bucky tried to ignore the fuzzy feeling in his chest by focusing on cleaning some dirt off her collar bone with another washcloth he had took from the cupboard underneath the sink. He then had a look at her cut on her stomach; the wound did not look as bad as he thought. Though it went from her right side to nearly the other side and Bucky knew it would leave a nasty scar once it had healed, it was mostly superficial. He gently cleaned it, removing the dry blood, and looked back at her. She nodded again, understanding without a single word was he wanted to do, and Bucky reached to the bottle of alcohol. She grimaced when he pressed a cotton pad soaked in the liquid to her skin.

After disinfecting her wound, he helped her put his T-shirt on and improvised a sling for her right arm with one of his scarves. He made sure not to tug on her hair when he tied the scarf around her shoulder, while she observed his every move in silence. Bucky smiled softly when he realized his T-shirt was way too big for her. Even looking like terrible, she was still looking cute.

  Once he was done with the sling, Bucky moved to the lower part of her body. He squatted down, to remove her shoes and unbutton her jeans. Before getting her pants off, he needed to remove the tourniquet. He silently prayed all the gods in the universe to not make her bleed out and it seemed for once, they had listened. By some kinds of miracle, the gunshot wound was not bleeding anymore so he continued and slowly removed her pants. Shivers run through her body at the contact of his fingers on her skin.

Bucky repeated the same actions as he did for the wound on her stomach: cleaning and disinfecting. Thankfully the bullet had gone straight through her outer thigh and didn’t touch any artery. She got lucky, a few millimeters down and it would have shattered her knee. The hole was quite big, and it would probably require stitches to heal properly, but for now, he would leave it in the open air.

Once he was done, Bucky got up to face Y/N again. She was now standing there in her underwear and his oversized black T-shirt. “Thank you.” Was all she could say.

Bucky softly looked back at her. “I’ll get you lay down, okay? You need to rest.”

She nodded again and took the hand he was offering her for support. He helped her walk to his bed, Alpine following close behind. Y/N was limping as she couldn’t let too much of her weight resting on her left leg. It took her a good three minutes to walk a total of six steps, and Bucky reallywondered how she had made it to his place. He made her sit on the end of the bed, while he removed the comforter for her to lie down.

“Did you hit your head?” She looked at him confused, instinctively touching her face as if it was going to help her understand what he was talking about.

“I need to know if you have a head trauma,” Bucky said before helping her move to the spot he had prepared for her.

“I can recall all the potato chips flavors you have in your kitchen cupboard – who even eats salt and vinegar chips?” She laughed at him slowly as he lifted her legs off the floor and put them under the comforter. When he looked at her and she saw the concern still on his face, she insisted: “I am fine.”

“Alright, missy,” he mocked her in return, putting the comforter up to her chest, carefully of not touching her right arm. “For your information, salt and vinegar flavor is the best chips flavor.” She chuckled in response, settling more comfortably into his bed, and smiled as Alpine lie down on the other pillow next to her. Short after, she was closing her eyes and falling asleep.

  For a couple of hours, Bucky stayed there, sat against his nightstand, listening to Y/N’s breathing, and making sure she was still alive. She had not moved one muscle, caught up in one of those dreamless sleeps he always wished for before falling asleep. He should have tried to get some sleep too, but instead he couldn’t stop thinking. How had Tom known? Y/N was right, Tom hadn’t suspected a thing and nothing unusual had happened these past few days. Y/N and Tom were preparing for their first super-soldier serum delivery and Bucky and the team had been busy preparing their good haul – the grand finale as Macro was calling it. There was no way Tom would have discovered the truth on his own; someone must have told him. But who?

A sharp knock on his front door brought him back to reality. His breath caught up in his throat and he looked at Y/N, just to make sure she was still asleep. Alpine, in the other hand, was now wide awake, listening carefully to what was going on. Another knock on the door and Bucky slowly got up.

"You keep an eye on her," he ordered Alpine in a whisper. The cat only blinked at him in return.

Bucky nodded and made his way to the front door. Slowly, he closed the door of his bedroom and got his gun out. He didn’t know who could be at his door at this time of the night, and for a moment, he could only see Tom, being there to finish his work.

Another knock on the door. Bucky removed slowly and as silently as he could the safety lock of his gun, ready to shoot. When he got to the door, he cleared his throat, trying to sound as normal as possible. “Who is it?”

There was some talking that Bucky couldn’t really understand through the door as the sound was muffled. It took a few seconds to realize who that was, put the safety lock on his gun again and open the door.

“Sam?”

His partner, Sam, entered the apartment as soon as Bucky opened the door, shouting: “Can’t you answer your damn phone! I’ve been trying to reach you all night.” Sam thrown, looking at Bucky, with a gun in his hands, who was checking the rest of the floor to make sure Sam was alone. “What are you doing?”

Bucky locked the door behind them and moved past Sam to open the bedroom door, showing him the person still fast asleep in his bed.

“Oh, thank god.”

Sam’s face lighted up when he saw Y/N asleep in his friend’s bed. He moved closer to the bed, eyeing her to assess her injuries and making sure she was alive. Alpine got up to greet him and Sam offered some strokes to say hello. When he was done, he got back to Bucky at the bedroom doorstep and Alpine laid down near Y/N again.

“How did you get her?”

“She was there when I got back. I had to clean her up with Vodka and I didn’t even have any band-aids and-”

“Hey, it’s alright.” Sam put a hand to his friend’s shoulder, trying to ground him in the present moment and stop the wave of panic that was starting to shake him. Bucky took a deep breath, nodding. “She is alive, that’s all that matters.”

[hellsenthero]

Collapse.

Written by: hellsenthero

Bucky X FemReader

@leniram1890 Requested: For the request,i was thinking of Bucky x non avenger reader where reader saved Bucky from falling debris/ heavy object when Bucky unexpectedly is not in his senses that day,

Warnings/Themes: Language, violence, blood, fluff. (1.9K+ Words.)

*Masterlist*

----------

New York was a city filled with possibilities. But Y/N had never thought one of those possibilities was being destroyed and plundered by a secret organization. She didn’t know who was infiltrating the city, but she knew they were bad. Their dark uniforms with a red skull and six tentacles only further proved that. No one that worked for the good of all people would have a skull on their uniform. 

Before the screams of terror began and shots rang through the air Y/N had been sitting in a quaint little cafe at the corner. Sunlight shone in through the full windows, warming her in her seat as she drank her iced coffee. People walked by outside, some racing around in a hurry, others walking slowly, peacefully. She watched them go by her. The occasional loud conversation or honk of a car horn could be heard even inside the coffee shop, but she didn’t mind. It was New York after all, there was never complete silence in the city. 

Y/N had just finished her drink when the terror began. 

It was the people freezing in the middle of the street she noticed first. They all looked towards the same direction, some bringing up their hands to shield their eyes from the sun. Y/N looked to the left, through another window in the cafe, but couldn’t find what had grasped the full attention of the New York citizens. Even the man running towards a yellow taxi in the road stopped and stared off into the distance. The few other customers in the cafe with her got up and looked out the windows. Y/N took the last sip of your coffee before moving towards the window herself, eager for a closer look. That was when the first scream pierced the air. 

---

Bucky was watching a movie Steve suggested to him at the Avengers Compound. It was, one of the classics I’ve been told to catch up on, Steve had said. The movie was called E.T and Bucky could honestly say he liked it. He’d just gotten to the part where the kid was hiding the alien in his closet when an alarm began to blare through the compound. 

Bucky jerked up from his seat and ran from the room. He’d just turned the corner when Steve nearly ran into him. 

“Suit up.” Steve ordered as he passed Bucky, no doubt on his way to find his own uniform. 

It only took Bucky a minute to suit up. The routine second nature to him now. He raced outside towards the Quinjet, finding Steve, Nat, Sam and Tony already in the jet and talking in strained voices. Clint got on the jet a second after Bucky and Wanda and Vision two seconds after him. 

“Great,” Tony clapped his hands together as he went to the front of the ship and began pressing buttons. “Let’s go.”

“What are we responding to?” Bucky asked as he took a seat. Steve turned to face him, a shadow passed over his gaze as their eyes met. 

“Hydra has infiltrated the city. It seems they’re done playing around behind the scenes and have gone for a more...direct approach.” Bucky’s metal fist clenched at his side, his metal plates whirling. “Our goal is to take out as many operatives as you can and protect the citizens.” The team nodded their heads as a collective group. 

From the front of the jet Tony called out to the team, “We’re landing in two minutes.” 

---

Guns fired off like a show of fireworks. Minute after minute, second after second shouts and bangs filled the air. Y/N raced through the street, away from the soldiers in black. Above her a dark jet lowered itself towards the ground. Y/N was only mildly surprised to see the Avengers hop out and begin fighting. 

If Y/N had learned anything from the news then it was that when the Avengers arrive there will always be carnage in their wake. If possible Y/N pushed her legs to run even faster, away from the damage and death raining down on the city. 

She had just turned a corner when a blur of black and silver went flying past her, through the glass window of a furniture shop to her right. A scream tore out of her throat as she came to a halt. 

The building swayed, ready to collapse, and a pained groan sounded from within the structure. Against her better judgment Y/N turned, staring into the building for only a moment, before going inside in an attempt at helping the person inside. 

---

Bucky wasn’t prepared to see so many Hydra soldiers. Men marching in uniforms of black, their red badges standing out like blood against the fabric. Their faces were the worst though. Not all, but many had the dead gaze Bucky knew all too well. The quick, meticulous, almost robotic movements that only came from having their minds wiped. Bucky could taste the burning acid of pain in the back of his throat. He wanted to throw up. 

Steve gave him a hard shove before racing into the destruction. A firm reminder to get his head straight, to start fighting. With a deep breath Bucky shot off his gun, instantly killing a Hydra soldier. 

Bucky didn’t know how long that went on for, the shooting, the killing. It all blurred together. But still, he wasn’t in his right mind. His past memories created a fog in his head. So when a Hydra soldier came up behind him, a gun in hand, Bucky didn’t realize until it was too late. 

Or nearly too late. If it wasn’t for Wanda throwing him through the air with her scarlet power, he would have been dead. The gun aimed directly at his head. As it was he went flying into a building, crashing through glass and wood and structural pillars. 

It was a never ending blur of pain and flying and red and black. 

---

Y/N prayed she wasn’t going into the unstable building only to be met with one of the men attacking the city. She should have turned away, got out, but something pulled her further inside. The structural pillars of the large shop were broken in half. Only one remained standing, the sole pillar holding up the shop. 

Another groan sounded and Y/N called out. “Hello?” Another groan answered her and Y/N went further inside. One eye stayed on the pillar, praying for it to not give out while she was still inside. “Do you ne-” Y/N’s next question was cut off by the sway of the building. Dust and rubble rained down from the ceiling, the loud groans and creaks of the building filled the air. Y/N went to turn around, to head back out into the sunlit, destroyed city, but it was too late. 

The last pillar gave out. 

The ceiling came crashing down. Y/N dove beneath a table, her hands protecting her head, her knees tight to her chest. She thought she heard someone scream a man’s name from outside but it was washed away by the great crashes of the building. 

The first thought in Y/N’s mind when the crashes came to a stop, and the debris settled, was that she was dead. But the pain of rubble pressing down on her quickly reminded her that she wasn’t. That was she was alive and stuck in a collapsed building. 

With another person. 

With a groan Y/N crawled out from beneath the broken table. Blood covered her palms and knees as her limbs scrapped against debris. Dust filled the air like a heavy fog, threatening to choke her. 

“Hello?” Y/N called out as loudly as she could. The groan of pain that answered her seemed to lift an invisible weight off of her. Whoever had gone flying through the glass window only moments ago was still alive. For now. The dust began to settle and Y/N’s vision clearned. Ahead of her she could spot shining silver. It was most likely debris, it certainly couldn’t be a person, but still Y/N crawled towards it. 

---

His mind fogged. He could hear a woman’s voice, calling out, but Bucky could do nothing more than groan in answer. If he made it out of there, wherever he was, he would be having quite the talk with Wanda. 

Debris layed heavy on Bucky, threatening to crush him to death. His movements were painful and limited, but still he tried to escape from beneath the crushing weight. 

Blood dripped from a wound on his head and his ribs screamed in protest as he did his best to crawl out from the rubble. But his best wasn’t enough. His mind was so foggy he didn’t know up from down, left from right, it all blurred together. He was nearly ready to stop his struggle and go to sleep like his mind begged him to do before the voice sounded again. 

Soft, sweet, gentle, it reached his ears and Bucky knew he was going to be okay. 

“Please don’t be dead, please don’t be evil.” Bucky could hear the woman’s voice clearer now. A heavy weight lifted free from his back and Bucky groaned in relief. “Shit, are you okay?” Bucky looked up and was met with beautiful Y/E/C eyes. “That’s dumb, you’re obviously not okay.” The woman said more to herself than to Bucky. Bucky reached out a hand, grasping onto the woman his eyes surveyed her from head to toe. 

“You’re hurt.” He gasped out as his eyes locked on the scarlet blood on her hands. 

“So are you.” The woman answered. 

Bucky smiled. He hadn’t smiled in a long time and he never would have guessed that a strange woman and a collapsed building would do him in, but he smiled. 

“I think I’m supposed to be the one saving people.” Bucky said and he crawled out from the last piece of rubble holding him down. His bearings beame less blurry, his mind focused on the building, the rubble, the woman. Direction began to make sense again. 

The woman smiled right back at him. “Yet here I am, saving you.” 

Bucky must have been in heaven. Dark, bloody, painful heaven, but heaven nonetheless. 

“What’s your name, knight?” Bucky asked as he and the woman worked together to be free of the building. The closer they got to their exit, the more Bucky could hear someone calling his name. No--someone’s. Steve and Wanda. 

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” The woman answered. “And yours?”

“Bucky. Bucky Barnes.” Finally, they got out of the building. Bucky was met with a relieved Steve and Wanda. The former smiled and gave him a pat on the back, but still Bucky’s gaze remained on Y/N. 

“It’s all over.” Steve told Bucky. 

Bucky didn’t respond back, instead he said to Y/N, “I think you need to be looked at.”

Y/N nodded her head. “I think you’re right.” Bucky smiled and wrapped an arm around Y/N. 

“Come on, I’ll bring you to the jet.”

The pair walked off and Wanda and Steve remained standing outside the ruined building, confused and surprised. 

“What-” Wanda began before Steve cut her off. 

“I don’t know.” Steve mumbled. “I don’t know.” 

[heli0s-writes]

shape of you*

somnophilia: I’ll write my/your character waking the other up by sex

Thank you for sending in this smut prompt! Here is some Steve Rogers tenderness. ✨ All mistakes are my own-- a very quick write. Please stop reading if you are not 18+

brooklyn after dark masterlist

It’s a treat when Steve Rogers is still in bed past five. Your Spartan, so routine and strict with himself, finds comfort and purpose in rising before the sun.

He likes to sleep with the windows a few inches open—letting nighttime’s white noise soothe him, letting birdsong rouse him. Through diffused light behind thick curtains, the curve of his shoulders and arms are green gray, gently moving with each breath. You hadn’t heard him come in last night, so it must have been later than either of you anticipated.

He only snores when he’s tired. Little vibrations of sound you’ve come to adore rattling from him because it’s your comfort, too. Bucky used to say he’d wake up some nights in Brooklyn waiting to hear that sound—the confirmation that 90lbs Steve Rogers was still alive and not kicked the bucket when he wasn’t looking.

Sweet lover. Gilded half-god. Still just a boy.

Another snuffle of breath and you’re delighted-- heart full and matching his, pulsing rhythms of his name, coursing warm and swollen beneath your skin.

Ten-thirty, a travesty of a time for Steve Rogers to be still-supine under a mass of covers. You’d rather wake him to something much nicer than an alarm. So, your hands work.

Flushed against his back, you snake an arm around his waist, up his shirt, hot skin and balmy heat beneath the layer. Steve takes a deep breath, still distant in his restful state. A soft sigh when you rub side to side over the planes of his chest, sinking your fingers onto his sternum, feeling his heart. It’s beating your name, too.

Steve stirs, one knee sliding over the other before he stills again. You move lower, smiling into his shoulder, landing a kiss on his neck. He smells lovely— laid in sheets, light tang of sweat, his fresh shampoo.

Your destination is found past his taut abdomen, over the band of his boxers, beneath the thin navy and brown plaid fabric. Half-stiff already, you give him a tender stroke. Then another—tighter. And another—firmer. More kisses to his neck, your nose in the soft strands of his grown-out hair, curled at the nape.  

Deep sleeper. World savior. Growing hard and stiff. Your man throbbing inside your dexterous hand.

Steve’s cockhead is beading precome. He’s moaning louder now, hips arching toward your grip.

“Mm—” raspy.

“Yeah?” You whisper, propping yourself up with a crooked elbow, shuffling so you’ve got more leverage around his broad profile. Taking a peek over the fallen strands of his hair, you find his lids still shut, lashes over the hollows of his eyes, cheeks flecked rose.

He turns, finally provoked enough to wake, eyes opening lazily. He focuses on your face, finally, on your mouth, parted in a smile. A ray of sunlight casts a brilliant line across his shoulder.

“Baby?” Steve licks his dry lips, eyes shutting again when your thumb crooks over his slit, smearing stickiness down, “What’re you doin’—ah—”  

“Good? This okay?”

“Y-yeah—ah— fuck--” and then because he’s as sharp as the gleam of light cutting over his body, Steve grows alert in a snap. One large hand cups the side of your chin, wedging your palm away from your face, lifting you by the head.

“On top,” he says, breathing hard through his nose, “Get on top of me.”

Anything for him. For a rare morning with Steve in bed, warm and wanting, breathless beneath you. He’s half-wild like this, brain catching up to body, bucking feverishly when you get him inside. Steve’s hair cascades from his forehead. You run your fingers through its length, down his beard, his chest, until they curl around his hips.

“Stay still,” you whisper, leaning down for a kiss to his cheek, the position making him groan, “You stay there, Steve.”

He nods, feeling your mouth all over his jaw and neck, your hands up and down his arms. He’s gasping with every roll of your hips. Steve wraps you tightly to him, moaning your name, confessing his endless love for you— his care and affection.

Darling heart. Gentle creature. Mortal and trembling between your thighs.

Steve comes in a rush of litanies—curses and prayers, your name and god’s name, dappled with hoarse yes—yes—yes in between. His brows tilt together, forehead crinkled with the way he squeezes his eyes shut and shudders all over. You bear down one more time, following him over the edge, humming and buzzing in pleasure.

After the descent, he bemusedly looks at the curtains, glowing with the cacophony of sunshine. The birds are melodic and sweet, but he’s woken up to something much sweeter. You kiss him lovingly and settle on top of him for a few more minutes, just resting, chest to chest. Steve runs a hand up your back, tangles it into your hair.

He finds comfort and purpose this morning in the shape of your body over his.

[elwenyere]

Helps to Relieve My Mind

Hello fam! I wrote my first little Sambucky ficlet today in an effort to tide myself over until Friday’s new episode of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. If such a thing would help tide you over as well, please feel free to give it a read. I very much hope you enjoy! <3

Tags: Sam/Bucky, 1.8k words, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together

CW: descriptions of falling and panic attacks

Read it on AO3

“Is it too late to go back to therapy?” Bucky called over the comms.

It had been less than forty-eight hours since he and Sam had decided to ditch Walker and go after the Flag-Smashers on their own, and they were already getting their asses handed to them again. They’d gotten side-tracked on their way to see Zemo by a tip from Torres: a group of hijackers matching the description of the missing super-soldiers had been spotted loading up a cargo plane with medical supplies in Kiev. Bucky and Sam had showed up just as the Flag-Smashers were readying for takeoff, and when Sam had flown straight through a rain of gunfire and into the open cargo bay door, Bucky had had no choice but to follow, cursing under his breath as he ran to catch the taxiing plane. 

He’d managed to haul himself inside just as the wheels left the ground, only to have his back slammed into the metal wall of the cargo hold a minute later, a serum-enhanced fist clutched tightly around his throat.

“You could always change your mind about following me,” Sam offered, a rhythmic series of thumps and clangs from the other end of the bay revealing that he was dealing with problems of his own. “I bet you could even get another ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card if you agreed to up with -”

“Don’t say it,” Bucky growled, grabbing the wrist of the soldier holding him against the wall and twisting it viciously.

“- John ‘Wingman’ Walker and his partner,  Battlestar,” Sam finished, the grin somehow audible in his voice.

“You’re just lucky all my other options suck even worse than this,” Bucky muttered, taking a deep breath and bum-rushing the man in front of him.

“Yeah, ‘lucky’ is definitely how I’ve felt every day since you ripped the steering wheel out of my damn car in the middle of the highway,” Sam retorted. Bucky could hear the sounds of bullets ricocheting off metal, and he glanced over to watch Sam reemerge from behind a stack of crates.

“Even the Winter Soldier has some fond memories,” Bucky reflected, ducking a roundhouse kick from the redhead who’d booted him out of the truck in Germany and then sweeping his arm back to catch her solidly across the jaw. 

He’d just turned to reassess their situation when he saw one of the soldiers poised by a lever on the side of the wall.

“Shit!” he yelled. “Sam!”

And then an explosion of air knocked him off his feet, and he felt himself yanked backward, scrabbling for purchase on the floor of the aircraft as he slid toward the open door. Unfortunately, it was his fleshy hand that finally found it. Just as he was about to run out of room, he wrapped his fingers around the lip of the lowered door and then let out an involuntary grunt of pain when his full weight caught against the hold, his legs whipping behind him in the open air.

“Shit,” he swore again, trying to strengthen his grip so that he could risk making a grab for the door with his metal hand.

“Bucky!” Sam yelled, and for some reason the change in his tone sent Bucky’s heart rate rabbiting even faster than the scramble across the floor. “Hang on! I’m on my way!”

A metal crate went flying over Bucky’s head, and he winced automatically, sending a jolt of pressure through the fingers clinging to the plane. And because he was always aware of Sam’s position in the fight, he knew there was no way he was going to make it in time.

“Sam, you should know -” 

His words were cut off when the plane banked abruptly to the left. Bucky’s legs jerked sideways, his hand spasmed, and then he was falling through the air.

It was different than the last time. He could still hear what sounded like screaming - either a voice calling his name or the air hurtling past him, rushing away from him and refusing to bear his weight. He could still feel the terror claw up his throat and curl into the back of his mind, covering his thoughts with a white, electric blanket. But this time he knew what it would feel like when he hit the ground. He could already feel the rocks cracking through bones and tearing at the sinews of his arms, and all he could do was grit his teeth and hope to wake up somewhere better than he had before.

He twisted in the air so he could see the end coming, every muscle in his body wrenching tight in anticipation. But then he felt a hand curl around the back of his head, and a weight slammed into him from the wrong direction, shifting his momentum abruptly to the side. Before he knew it, there was soft grass under his knees, pressing up against him and holding him still.

“I got you,” Sam said, his arms still wrapped tightly around Bucky’s back. “I got you.”

Bucky felt like he was sucking air through a straw, his head dizzy with a flood of adrenaline as he clung to the fabric of Sam’s uniform and curled up against his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut to stop the vertigo, but in the darkness all he could picture was an avalanche of snow and ice and unforgiving rock, and a second later he opened his eyes again with a gasp. His muscles were still screaming with the effort of bracing for collision, and he struggled to even out his breathing, willing himself to concentrate on the weight of Sam's arms around him, grounding him.

As the haze gradually began to clear, Bucky became aware that Sam was still repeating the same words, his cheek pressed against the top of Bucky’s head. But the tone of Sam’s voice seemed to have shifted, so that what had started as a reassurance now sounded like a kind of desperate chant.

“I got you,” he repeated, his own breathing coming sharp and fast. “I got you.”

Suddenly Bucky remembered the photo in Sam’s wallet when he paid for drinks in Germany, the story Steve had told him as they sat on a hill in Wakanda.

Fuck.

“Sam,” Bucky whispered. 

Sam’s arms tightened almost convulsively, and Bucky reached out to rest his hands gently on Sam’s lower back. 

“Hey, Sam. I’m okay,” Bucky continued, listening to Sam’s breathing slow down. “I’m here. I’m okay. You caught me.”

Sam straightened up slightly, one of his hands moving to cradle Bucky’s head as he'd done during the fall, and Bucky pressed his forehead against Sam’s.

“You caught me,” he repeated, and this time it sounded like a brand new idea. Sam had caught him. Bucky had lost his grip, and Sam had been there to cushion the fall.

“I’ve been trying to catch you, you idiot,” Sam replied, shaking his head with a faint echo of exasperation. “Do you have any idea how scary it is to think you might not let me?”

He gave the back of Bucky’s neck a gentle squeeze, one thumb sweeping up into Bucky’s hair, and for the first time in decades, Bucky’s body responded to an instinct that hadn’t been carved into his brain with a knife: he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of Sam’s lips, sighing at the warmth of Sam’s skin against his.

A moment later he froze, pulling away with exaggerated slowness and wiping all traces of expression carefully from his face. Sam was staring back at him, wide-eyed, and for a second Bucky felt like he was in free fall again, his stomach heaving as he plummeted through space.

“That was - uh,” he tried to explain. “Sam -”

But before he got another word out, Sam had hauled him in by the back of his neck and was kissing him thoroughly, his mouth soft but hungry against Bucky’s, and something hot leapt through Bucky’s chest that seared deeper than any of the afterimages or second-hand shocks that had passed for getting his life back.

When they finally broke apart, it was because Sam had started laughing.

“Seriously, man?” Bucky protested, a small smile tugging at the corner of his own lips. “I know I’m out of practice, but if you make a crack about being cryogenically frozen, I swear to God.”

“I was going to say that if the kind of healing you’ve been looking for is less Sigmund Freud and more Marvin Gaye, you could have just called me back,” Sam retorted, giving Bucky a grin and a playful shove on the shoulder. “It would have been the world’s easiest alley oop. Lord knows I was giving you more assists than John Stockton gave the Mailman - and that is a crack about being in deep freeze, by the way. You could be understanding that reference right now if you hadn’t been ghosting me instead.”

Bucky scanned Sam’s face, drinking in the warmth and openness that he had always found infuriatingly, impossibly brave.

“You’re the only number in my phone other than my shrink,” Bucky explained finally.

Sam tilted his head, his eyebrows raised significantly.

“That’s kind of my point, Bucky.”

“No, I’m trying to tell you that’s why I couldn’t call,” Bucky continued. “I have a list of people I’ve hurt in the past that’s so long I can’t even see the end of it. But when I turn to the list of people who are here for me now?” He held up a single finger and then jabbed it toward Sam’s chest. “You’re it. Just one. So if I take a chance, and I fuck that up -” He shook his head ruefully. “Well, let’s just say it felt safer to imagine you might still be out there than to know for sure that you weren’t.”

Sam’s face softened, and he opened his mouth to reply, but Bucky waved him off.

“And that was total bullshit: I know,” he said quickly. “More importantly, it was selfish. What you said yesterday about me not understanding what you were going through - you were right. I never once asked how you were doing. I guess I was in such bad shape to help anyone that it was easier for me to believe you didn’t need any help.” 

Sam regarded him thoughtfully.

“Therapy, huh?” 

“God, it’s the worst.”

He gave Sam a smile, this one feeling a little less like a mask someone else had drawn. Sam smiled back, reaching up to trace the edge of Bucky’s lips lightly with his thumb.

“One of those things you might not understand about me is that I’m not very good at needing people either,” he said, dropping his hand to rest on Bucky’s metal shoulder. “But I think I’m going to need you on this, Bucky.”

“Yeah, well, that’s probably true,” Bucky agreed. “Seeing as you just let the Flag-Smashers get away again.”

“Maybe next time you could try to stay inside the vehicle,” Sam suggested. His tone was light, but the squeeze he gave Bucky’s shoulder telegraphed some of the fear still clinging to the lines of his face.

“You’ll catch me,” Bucky shrugged, trying for casual assurance and landing closer than he would have thought possible.

“Always,” Sam promised.

[sazc94]

Pietro and Bunny

Here is my second entry for the wonderful @msmarvelwrites 2k Challenge.

This a spin-off from my Bucky fic: The three times Bucky broke your heart. Part 1 linked Here.

It follows the same timeline and explores the relationship of Pietro and Reader (Bunny) More.

Words 4890 ish

Themes. Angst, Suggestions of smut. But mostly lots and lots of fluff. 18+ Because of the smut suggestions.

Part 2. (Part 1)

2015. Pietro and you stayed in touch. Both getting swept away in your busy year. Pietro had gone into Business with Wanda creating a fashion company. His dad was helping to fund the start-up costs, but Pietro was never one to take a handout so worked an extra job, he mostly did courier services. this allowed him to be flexible with his days.

Meaning he was able to pick up supplies and do whatever else it was his sister had him running around the city for. It also helped pay towards the rent of his apartment, his father covering half. One day in the summer when Pietro was rushing around he entered into the Baxter building and literally ran smack into a head of blonde hair.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. This is my fault. I keep getting told I should slow down.” Pietro said bending offering a hand to the woman he had knocked over. “I’m just as much to blame, honestly I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and all though I may be nicknamed The Invisible woman, I need to remember that I’m not actually invisible” replied the blonde brushing herself down.

She was pretty in that conventional way but her piercing blue eyes drew Pietro in. “Pietro”, he said sticking out his hand. “Susan, but you can call me Sue”, she replied shaking his hand.

Pietro and Susan began dating in the autumn. All though you and Pietro still stayed in touch. The contact was dwindling. He also found it incredibly hard not to call you by your old pet name. “Hey sis, Vis”. Pietro said walking into the small office space they rented in downtown NYC. Wanda was hard at work behind her sewing machine.

“So you’re dating Susan Storm,” Vision said. It wasn’t a question but Wanda’s eyes shot up from her machine to look at Pietro with an acquisitional look. This was news to her. She knew you were dating someone but Susan Storm was practically a celebrity with her brain and looks, plus her high profile relationships with Reed Richards and Victor von Doom. Not to mention her dad was a renowned Scientist too.

“How did you know?” Pietro asked grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl in the middle of the space. “Your pictures from last nights date are all over the internet. Someone called Prez Hilton broke the story” Vision said shrugging. Wanda shot Vision a puzzled look, he may be great with technology and smart enough to work with Tony Stuck, but Vision didn’t usually follow much on the internet. “Ah yes, Pepper Potts showed me how to set up google alerts”. Vision said before heading out the door.

2016

Pietro knew you and Bucky had grown closer over recent months, but it still took him by surprise when he heard from you that you had gotten back together. He knew he had no right to be jealous as it had ultimately been his decision to break up, and he was dating the stunning Sue Storm. But it didn’t stop the small seed of jealousy he felt.

What didn’t help matters was that Sue had been working later and later at the Baxter Building, and getting closer with her ex, Reed. Pietro tried to shrug it off but ultimately after almost a year of dating, he could see that Sue’s heart belonged to another, and if he was being honest. Part of his heart still belonged to his Bunny. So, after a night out in NYC Pietro had kissed Sue Storm goodnight for the final time.

Pietro respected you too much to ruin your newfound happiness with Bucky and it seemed like he had finally turned a leaf over. That was until he got a text from your cousin explaining that Bucky had been unable to get the time off for your Grandma’s funeral.

Pietro didn’t even think twice about using his links to his dad to secure a flight out of NYC for the funeral in September. His heart shattered when he saw you at the airport, with tear-stained cheeks, a red nose, and puffy eyes. He didn’t hesitate to pull you into a huge hug.

“Shhh Bunny” – the old pet name slipping out. “It’s okay, I’m here. She was a wonderful woman. She wouldn’t want all these tears” he said releasing you from his grip. It had been two years since you’d last seen each other in person. Other than the brown in your hair having slightly grown out, no doubt due to your mind being on more pressing matters. You looked exactly the same. His Bunny.

After the funeral Pietro planned to catch the first flight out of Miami back to NYC. With the launch of Scarlett Witch fast approaching Pietro didn’t want to leave his sister to deal with all the pressure herself. At least that’s what Pietro told himself was the reasoning. Truthfully it was that he couldn’t bear to be around you and not be with you.

But when your family had insisted on putting him up for the night and feeding him, he couldn’t refuse.

After the wake when your Mum had insisted on Pietro leaving the dishes, he grabbed two beers from the fridge and went looking for you. He found you sat on the private beach your grandma’s house backed on too.

You sat with one of Bucky’s jumpers wrapped around you. It wasn’t cold but still, you felt cold, so you had grabbed his jumper as a source of comfort and warmth. Pietro stopped for a second before swallowing. This wasn’t about him; this wasn’t about Bucky. This was about you and being there for you whilst you waded through this grief. 7

“Hey Y/N. I thought I’d find you here. Your grandma used to tell me about how she found the sea hypnotising” Pietro said sitting down on the sand before offering you one of the beers he had grabbed.

That night Pietro sat with you in solidarity offering you nothing more than friendship and a pillar of support whilst you cried and then laughed, and then cried some more reminiscing about your cherished times with both your now deceased grandparents.

After Pietro returned to NYC, he put the thought of you out of his head, instead, he turned his efforts to focus on the upcoming December launch party. Thanks to their dad’s connections. Wanda’s hard work and a few strategic tweets and IG posts from a hard-working friend who did add campaign work for a living there was a real buzz around Scarlett Witch.

“Hey Brother, I was thinking of asking Y/N to attend the launch and to wear something from the evening collection for the launch, Jane is in town and already said yes, she’s bringing her Boyfriend Thor, I extended two further invitations to them encase Thor’s brother Loki is around. What do you think?” Wanda said throwing herself onto the grey sofa opposite Pietro. They were at Pietro’s apartment as he had the most amount of spare room.

“Excellent idea, she should bring Bucky too,” Pietro said sipping on his coffee. Pietro wanted to remain in your life and after the funeral, your conversations had been a bit more frequent. Most importantly Pietro wanted you to be happy.

Pietro brought a date along to the event; her name was Crystal and they had been on a few dates before. However, they both had an understanding that this was more of a casual thing and that neither of them were looking for a relationship with each other. Crystal had gone off to schmooze with some of the guests when you arrived. Pietro made a mental note to introduce you both later, he was sure you would both get along with your similar senses of humour. Pietro couldn’t take his eyes off you the moment you entered the event. You looked stunning, Wanda had asked for Pietro’s input when choosing the outfits that You, Wanda and Jane were going to wear. Pietro had chosen a silver two-piece skirt and top for Jane, a scarlet red ensemble for his sister and a Black strapless dress, the top was form-fitting made from chiffon fabric, the skirt cut out the front made of black tulle sparkled with the touches of glitter.

Pietro had chosen the ensembles for two reasons, one they were undoubtedly the showstoppers from Wanda’s evening collection and they all complimented each other well. He made a mental note to ensure Peter Parker got a photo of the three of the ladies together before the evening got away from everyone.

“Bunny! I agree absolutely amazing. Bucky, you don’t look too bad yourself” Pietro said kissing you on the cheek. Pietro was wearing a deep blue suit; it made his hair and ice-blue eyes pop. Wanda had insisted on the blue over a grey suit Pietro had originally planned on wearing. Pietro didn’t miss the smile on your face after they had complimented you, it was as big and bright as it had been that final summer. And you've got a smile That can light up this whole town

After photos and ensuring everyone’s, drinks were full, Wanda and Pietro left the small group of old school friends in the private area of the event and made their way around the guests. The press contained fashion bloggers, small fashion magazines, social media influencers and gossip columnist too. Pietro found his way back to Crystal after he’d finished making the rounds. He was on his way to introduce you when he spotted an unfamiliar red head amongst the group.

Thor introduced her as Natasha, Pietro tried not to give away the surprise in his eyes, but he could sense that there was some tension as you avoided making eye contact with both Pietro and Bucky. Pietro kept his nose out of it for the most part, but when the pair of you said your farewells for the evening, he couldn’t help but assure you that he was there if you wanted to talk.

“Was that Natasha Romanoff I saw hanging around Thor and Y/N’s group most of the evening?” Wanda asked when she and Pietro slipped into the back of the waiting car. “Yes it would appear so, did you know she was coming?” He asked loosening his tie. “Vis said Jane had asked to bring a friend along as Loki couldn’t make it, I told him to tell her it was fine as she technically had four invites. I didn’t realise it was going to be her”, Wanda explained, there was an emphasis on her.

Regardless of her brother's relationship status with yourself she genuinely liked you and always would, her loyalties lied with you and as far as Wanda was concerned, she didn’t even want to know Natasha, something about her didn’t sit right with her from the few interactions they’d had over the years.

“Will Crystal meet you at your apartment? I didn’t see her as we were clearing away”, Wanda said changing the subject. “Huh? Oh, no she’s meeting her friends downtown at the Voodoo Lounge, something about a magic night” Pietro said looking out the window as the streets of NYC blurred into one. He couldn’t help but worry about you, you could put on a bright smile and laugh all you liked, but Pietro knew when you were faking.

2017

The launch of Scarlet Witch had gone better than Pietro and Wanda had hoped. When the label opened up to online orders in February, they had sold out of everything in 30 minutes flat. Now they were looking at opening up an in-person store in the lower east side sometime early next year. Pietro was working late one night in the office when Vision turned up.

“Hey Vision, it's good to see you but Wanda’s not here,” Pietro said sitting back down behind his desk. It was late and the numbers had started to dance around the screen but Pietro was determined to get these figures finished before the weekend. It was the least he could do as Wanda had been working flat out, she insisted on sewing as many of the items herself as possible, and when she had hired two seamstresses, Wanda still checked all their work.

“Thank you, Pietro, but I know she is back at our apartment. It is actually you that I came to see” Vision said. James or Vision as everyone called him very rarely looked nervous, yes he sometimes missed social cues but he was never one to act nervous. Pietro sensing this was important saved his spreadsheets and shut down his computer.

“What’s going on Vis?” Pietro asked walking over to the sofa area where vision, stood awkwardly. “Traditionally, this question would be asked to your father, but as your father was not in your lives much until recent years, I felt it better to ask you” Vision babbled on. Pietro had a pretty good where this was going, but this was Visions plan and Pietro wasn’t about to jump the gun, besides if this was going where he thought it was, it was only right to make him suffer ever so slightly.

“Well Vision, I’m all ears. What is it you want to ask?” Pietro asked grinning. “Well you know how much I adore your sister Wanda, and we have been together a good many years now. So I would like to ask your permission for your sister's hand in Marriage” Vision asked. Vision’s heart was pounding so loud and fast he thought that he might collapse. Pietro’s eyes watered, he was happy for his sister and he was of course going to say yes, but he wanted to have a bit of fun first. He quickly stood and turned away from Vision, heading towards the small fridge of the small office kitchen.

“So you want to marry my sister, are you certain about this Vis? Because once that ring is on her finger, there is no backing down, even if you get cold feet.” Pietro remarked. “I assure you Mr Maximoff, I want this with my whole self” Vison responded. Pietro couldn’t continue with the charade anymore. “Of course you have my blessing Vision, I would be honoured to call you brother,” Pietro said handing Vision a beer.

Vision proposed to Wanda that summer on the fourth of July. The three of them attended Tony Stark’s exclusive fourth of July bash at Stark Tower. Vision had a good relationship with Stark and Pepper was a hopeless romantic at heart. Shortly before the fireworks, Vision and Wanda wandered off to a private balcony three floors above the outside decking where everyone else would watch. Tony introduced the display then the three of them slipped out of the crowd as the fireworks got underway.

Tony had his AI software J.A.R.V.I.S set to record the whole thing. As the firework display got underway. Vision got down on one knee and popped the question. Wanda of course squealed and said yes between tears. That’s when Pietro, Pepper and Tony appeared with glasses of champagne and toasted to the happy couple. “Congratulations Sis, also please let me be there when you call Y/N and tell her, I know she is absolutely going to flip her shit when she finds out,” Pietro said kissing his sister on the cheek.

Sure enough, Pietro was right, three days later when Wanda Facetimed you to show of the ring your excited screams were loud enough to be heard all through NYC. “Oh my god. He did it, he finally proposed! I was wondering if he was ever going to pull his finger out and propose. Oh Wands I am so happy for you, you deserve this” you said. Wanda was so elated she missed the small crack in your voice towards the end of the sentence, but Pietro didn’t.

“Here Pietro want’s to say hi. Go on tell her all about how you had known about this since March! I’m going to get ready Visions parent’s got into town today and we’re meeting them for dinner before they see a show tonight,” Wanda passed the phone to Pietro before heading off to her shower. Pietro had come round specifically to hear the call. Pietro waited for the door to close before he turned his attention back to your face on his sister's screen.

“Everything okay Y/N?” Pietro asked. You sighed before letting your hair out of its ponytail, You were avoiding the question. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m tired, going out later with Peggy Carter, she’s the girlfriend of Bucky’s teammate, Steve. We’re going to get some lunch and do a bit of shopping, Steve’s working on some projects and Bucky said he’s running some extra training drills at the stadium. Not that he needs to the season doesn’t start for another two months, oh I’m sorry. I’m wittering on, how are you? Had any good dates recently?” you asked forcing your voice to be light and carefree.

Pietro knew what you were doing but it wasn’t his place to call you out on lying. “Naa, not really. None that would ever go anywhere” Pietro said. The two of you stayed on facetime for a few more short minutes before Pietro reluctantly advised he had to get going to the office.

September 2017

“So Y/N I have a very important question, will you be one of my Bridesmaids?” Wanda asked. Pietro walked into Wanda’s office just in time to hear you scream your response. “OH MY GOD, ARE YOU KIDDING OF COURSE I WILL” Wanda moved the phone from her ears and looked up at her brother who just grinned. “You owe me 20 bucks I told you she would scream,” Pietro said making himself comfortable in the chair opposite his sister's desk.

“ I should be offended, but I’m in too much of a great mood to care” you chuckled. “Oh, is that so?” Wanda teased. Pietro felt sick, had Bucky proposed? Worse, were you pregnant? “I got offered this amazing job opportunity, it would be working for Stark Industries, Pepper Potts approached me directly about it the other week, I shot it down but she called me again today doubling the offer,” you squealed.

The weight that had threatened to crush Pietro lifted, not that his sister hadn’t noticed the change in his complexion a few moments ago.

“Oh my god Y/N, That’s amazing! Are you going to take it? I miss you and would love to have you nearby like old times. And I am not only saying that so you can do my wedding planning for me” Wanda sang. “I don’t know, I said I would think it over and get back to her after the weekend, I’m going to talk it through with Bucky tonight” you replied. “It sounds like a great opportunity Y/N” Pietro responded with earnest.

“Huh, that’s weird, I wonder what she’s doing here,” you said out loud “Who’s where?” asked Wanda. “Oh um nothing, look I got to go I just got to Buck’s and I’m cooking dinner, going to talk to him about Tony’s offer,” you said before hanging up. Wanda and Pietro just looked at each other. Pietro got up to leave but Wanda shot him a look as if to say she wasn’t finished with him.

“You still love her” she spoke plainly. “He doesn’t deserve her. He’s always posting pictures of him and that Natasha doing “Official” Lions events” Pietro replied simply. “You are right brother, he doesn’t deserve her, but like I told you all those years ago. If you had asked her she would have waited. You don’t get to complain that she moved on with someone who was a big part of her life for 13 or so years” replied Wanda.

She was right and Pietro knew it. He sighed before lifting his gaze to meet his sister's cold blue eyes. “You’re right.” He said simply before exiting the room.

Pietro awoke to his phone ringing at 2 am, he wasn’t going to answer it until he saw your name and the picture of the pair of you from Uni flash up on his phone. “Y/N? Is everything okay? It’s 2 am.” Pietro asked rubbing a hand along his face. You didn’t respond.#

“Y/N, are you safe? Should I call Bucky?” he asked urgency surging in his voice. “NO!” you practically shouted. “Sorry, no please don’t call Bucky,” you asked quietly.

Pietro shifted leaning over to turn on his bedside lamp. “Bunny, you’re scaring me, what’s going on?” Pietro pleaded. The comfort in his voice was enough to break you all over again. You started sobbing all over again. How you had any tears left was beyond you.

“I’ll fucking kill him” Pietro growled. Pietro knew, the pictures Bucky had been posting on IG, the tears now, the way you had withdrawn recently. You didn’t need to say it for him to know. “Please don’t, I don’t have enough money to bail you out of prison” you managed to squeak.

Pietro felt his heart shatter, all he had wanted since you two had started dating was to save you from the heartbreak you had experienced in the summer of 2010 and he had failed you. That night Pietro stayed on the phone with you until 4 am where you finally fell asleep exhausted from the day's turmoil.

May 2018

Pietro and Wanda had helped you apartment hunt. They helped decorate and furnish your apartment ready for your move to the Big Apple in January. Wanda had introduced you to her friends slash employees but to Wanda, they really were her friends: Doreen Green, Janet Van Dyne, Julia Carpenter and Laura Kinney. Including you on many girls nights.

Vision and Pietro always walked you home after nights out. Wanda made sure to invite you to brunch with her and Vision when Pietro was attending. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to give you and Pietro another shot, it’s just you weren’t certain he would want you, after all, Bucky had really done a number on you again.

Sighing you picked up your phone and decided to take a leap of faith and text him, the two of you hadn’t spent any time alone together since you had moved in January.

Pietro’s Pov

Pietro’s phone buzzed. You, me and that little cafe in times square tomorrow = date? – Y/N x Pietro was stunned, he was sure that the time for you guys to be a couple had long passed. “Brother, are you listening?” Wanda asked agitated at her brother's lack of respect, the two of them were going through the plans for the rest of the year. Plans for when they would drop certain collections, run certain in-store promos. When they would run online promo’s.

“Sorry, it’s just Y/N just text me, asking me on a date” Pietro’s voice came out dazed. All though Wanda was miffed, she couldn’t help but smile. Looks like Y/N had finally listened to the girls last night when they went out for Monday night happy hour. “You had best text her back then brother” She responded raising her eyebrows at Pietro. I thought you’d never ask. How does 5 pm work? Pietro shot back.

Perfect x Your response came through almost immediately.

Your Pov

You got to the café early, you were too nervous to focus on anything in the office. And as you were only scheduled to work until four, you decided it was just easier to go to the café and wait with a book or something, you had to deal with this nervous energy somehow. You walked in expecting he’d be late, but Pietro got there early and he stood and waved. You walked to him Pietro pulled your chair out and helped you in. Pietro sat down opposite you and shot you a small nervous grin.

“I ordered you a hot chocolate and a cookie, I know how much you like hot chocolate even if it’s warm out like today,” he said shyly. “Thank you,” you said, you felt yourself blush. For goodness sake Y/N this is Pietro, you dated him for three years get a grip you silently berated yourself.

As the date got underway you felt yourself relax and slip into a comfortable bubble, you told Pietro about a recent mishap where one of your colleagues Darcy Lewis had accidentally thrown toner waste all over you.

You couldn’t help but smile as Pietro threw his head back laughing like a little kid. He took your hand and rubbed small circles on the back of it, that familiar feeling made your stomach erupt in butterflies.

I've been spending the last eight months Thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end But on a Wednesday in a cafe I watched it begin again.

December 2017 Pietro’s Pov. The snow was falling, and the streets of New York City were quitter than usual, a sign that Christmas was just around the corner. You had finished for a nice long Christmas break earlier that week and last night Pietro had taken you out for drinks and dinner as a surprise. However, due to the snow the restaurant had been unable to open as staff couldn’t get in due to all the delays on the subway. Pietro had felt crestfallen.

Right up until you had suggested that the pair of you skipped dinner and went back to Pietro’s straight for dessert. Pietro had struggled to leave you this morning. As he only had a few things to deal with before Scarlett Witch shut down for three weeks for a well-earned extended Holiday break he hadn’t left until later that morning around 10:30.

You had once again found your way back to the bright bubbly person you and everyone else knew you to be. Pietro as always being that safe place for you to heal. The way you danced around the kitchen cooking pancakes had Pietro beside himself. You really were ultraviolet. That fire you ignited, Good, Bad and undecided, Burns when I stand beside it Your light is ultraviolet. Pietro thought to himself.

All though you had only been back together since May this time Pietro was never going to let you again.

Pietro was leaving the office for a late lunch when his phone pinned with a google alert. James “Bucky” Barnes announces engagement to Natasha Romanoff! Read the headline. Fuck. That piece of shit. Pietro felt rage on behalf of you. He knocked on Wanda’s door. “Hey, Wanda. I know were almost done here anyway, but I got to go early” Pietro shifted uncomfortably.

“Why?” Wanda asked simply. They were almost done but Pietro was meant to be shutting down the website whilst Wanda finalised everyone’s surprise Christmas bonuses. Pietro didn’t say anything simply handing his phone to his sister. Wanda scanned the headline and the article. Sucking in a deep breath. “Go. I’ve got this. Go check on Y/N” she said her eyes softening.

Pietro practically raced home. Just as he was coming out the subway his phone rang, caller ID showing Sam. “What the fuck is that dickhead playing at?!” Sam asked. Pretty much the entire friend group had cut ties with Bucky after they found out he had been cheating on you again.

“I have no idea, but he better hope to god I never see him, because I will not hesitate to rip him a new one, look I’m just letting myself into my apartment building, Y/N stayed here last night as she didn’t have work today and we’re meant to be going to Stark’s Christmas gala this evening. I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later. Pietro said ringing off before Sam could respond. Pietro knew Sam would understand.

“Hey handsome how was your day?” you asked not taking your eyes away from the street below. Pietro breathed a sigh of relief, he was certain he would have come home to find you curled up in bed, or worse the floor crying. You were happy together but that didn’t make Bucky’s betrayal sting any less.

“It was good, busy” he replied taking off his coat and walking over to join you at the window seat. Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. He smiled to himself as he caught sight of the kids below. He could faintly see in the reflection of the window that your eyes were rimmed with red.

“How about you Bunny? I saw a news alert. I’m guessing you know about the engagement?” he asked. You hummed a response. Pietro knew you loved him; he also knew that you knew how much he loved you. But that didn’t make seeing you hurt any easier. Suddenly you shifted turning around to face him. His floppy silver-blonde hair covering those beautiful ice blue eyes, they looked at you with such love and endearment, they also spoke a silent promise. You kissed him gently on the lips before standing up.

“Come on Quicksilver let's shower before the Stark Christmas Gala,” you said pulling your boyfriend along behind you shooting him a knowing grin. God, he fucking loved you.

All this time how could you not know, baby? You belong with me

[octupus-on-the-moon]

A table

~It's been done *laughs in Dr. Frankenstein*. After a lot of sweat, cursing and repeatedly flipping of my laptop and tablet. A new part of a nightmare is ready. It's a bit longer because of my absence and I hope I can keep my motivation up~

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Ninth part of nightmare

Word count: 1,814

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Warning: Non I guess. Just some fluff and a burned gratine.

Bucky opened the door, awaiting the cold, baldness of the walls. To end up being surprised by the green he saw everywhere.

He totally forgot the little plants, y/n bought for him. They really made a difference. A welcome one. His clenched jaw and frowned eyebrows disappeared.

After taking of his jacket, he took an empty glass and went around pouring some water in all the colorful pots. He cursed under his breath, after he spilled some water for the second time. Mentally making a note to buy a watering can. Without noticing that his dark thoughts lifted and the silence around him was a welcome one, rather than a threatening menace.

Barnes looked at his wristwatch. It was still over an hour, till y/n would come back from college. He felt a sting of joy in his stomach.

That was new, Bucky wondered. It was probably just the excitement of finally having something to look forward to, instead of enduring one day after the other with the same maddening routine.

In the meanwhile, he could be useful and cook lunch. Y/n would be hungry after college and he had promised to cook the next time. Bucky looked in the fridge and cupboards. Potatoes, cheese and bacon. Exactly what he needed

Y/n had 30 minutes of lecture left, till she was free. She really wanted to go back to her little room in James’s apartment after the first class, but Monday was full of important courses, so she somehow managed to convince herself to stay.

The short call with James lifted her spirits considerably. It was his stoic way of talking, as soon as she showed a bit of interest in him, that made her feel warm inside. Her thoughts wandered off. To him. To the unpleasant night and how she finally saw the scared child he was. But then they went off to his blue eyes and the little crinkles around them when he frowned.

He must have been quite a look back in the forties.

Of course she had seen the photos in the Smithsonian, but she pictured him in a classier way. With a fitted suit and a fedora hat, walking down the street stealing hearts. Maybe a girl at his side and his eyes constantly lingering around her, as if she were the whole world and more. At the thought of it, y/n caught herself picturing a girl just like her, beside his tall figure.

That made her stop and turn back to reality. It was not a good sign. Or maybe it was. It felt like forever, since she let someone into her life and James was pretty much the last person she would have thought of. But she also did not expect her father being a criminal and her whole existence a facade.

Life was full of twists and turns lately. Some good, some bad. Maybe it was time to let something good happen.

“Ms. y/l/n, could you resume the discussed topic?” The professors sharp tone ripped y/n out of her train of thought. This will be the longest 30 minutes of my life, she thought.

A quite knock on the door distracted Barnes from intensely starring at the oven. He decided himself for a simple potato gratin, that would hopefully suite y/n’s taste. With is heart beating a bit too fast he neared himself the door.

And there she was. Her hair a little mess. A bag casually hanging around her shoulder and a beam as bright as the sun itself.

“Will you let me in or just keep starring?” Her playful greeting made Bucky’s heart stumble and without wasting words he stepped aside. He made another mental note. His gaze is not to be trusted. “How was therapy?” she asked letting her bag slide to the floor entering the kitchen in on smooth motion “Who of you two bit off the other one´s head first?” It took Bucky moment to get out of his trance.

“I….. We…. It went good” Barnes cleared his throat closing the door behind him “But she got a little suspicious about me deciding to cooperate” Y/n was drinking a glass of water leaning against the counter and once again Bucky could not get his eyes off of her.

“I did not think about that. We should have done one thing at a time. But I guess it´s too late now. Oh! And it smells amazing” she replied signing over to the oven. The quick hand move, the way her voice floated in the air, that one fuzzy hair in her face, everything captured him. “I…” A sharp smell tingling his nose interrupted Barnes. It came from the hot oven in the middle of the kitchen. His concentration fully gathered again, let him act quickly, reaching over for a rug and rescuing his gratin in the last moment. The crust was now a bit darker than needed but it was still acceptable.

“It´s a burned potato gratin” Barnes darkly commented, placing the form in the center of the already ‘set up table’.

“Hey, don´t be so hard on yourself. It still looks amazing”

“I´m not being hard with myself, I´m blaming you. It wouldn´t have burned if you wouldn´t have distracted me” Bucky’s eyes were glimmering amused.

She gasped overly dramatic, laying one hand on her chest “Me?”

“Yes. You” He broke out into a smile, without wasting another thought he reached over to her, brushing that fuzzy string of hair out of her face. Y/n’s giggle stopped for a moment at the closeness between both, making place for a shy smile, her eyes searching the floor. Barnes retreaded himself, feeling a heavy stone inside his stomach, as he realized how intimate the gesture was.

She did not expect him coming so close, her heart was already fluttering and was about to explode at his touch. Then he moved away causing an emptiness inside her. The same emptiness she always felt since the day of the notification. It was the last time she felt truly fulfilled and at ease, she had dreams and goals. Then everything changed. Life suddenly was a landscape of grey. Every task dull and meaningless. Time passed. She soon enough noticed that the emptiness would stay and the grey would only flourish.

Then the nightmare happened. And the already grey landscape had now even dark shadows to be afraid of.

James moved away to cut and serve the gratin. Giving her a little time to calm down her heart beat and ‘take a seat’ on the kitchen counter. After another heartbeat of discreetly observing Bucky serve the plates, y/n decided to break the silence “James”

He looked up with a shy grin “Yes?”

“We really need to get you a table”

….

“Is it really necessary?” Bucky and y/n were standing in front of the furniture store. Bucky incredulously, Y/n exited.

“Well at least I am not going to keep eating on the floor and, or the counter. My back is literally hurting from eating the gratin”

“Yes, it’s true. But. I…” Barnes closed and opened his fists a few times weighting his options “Okey. I guess we can take a look around” She nodded enthusiastically leading the way into the shop, James sighted heavily and followed.

The store was more or less deserted, which relieved Barnes. He didn´t like being in a already overwhelmingly filled hall with an ever more overwhelming count of people in it. The exit routs were explicitly signed which calmed his anxiety a bit more.

The most urgent thing for y/n was definitely the table, which led them to the dinning room section.

“I feel like a mafia boss” Y/n declared sitting down on the front side of a heavy wooden table. The chair, throne-like, up-holstered in a red velvet.

“Yes. A very scary mafia boss” Bucky jeered from the other side of the aisle.

“Hey! I can be scary if I want to”

“Jupp, as scary as a teddy”

She got up from the huge seat and walked over to him “Have you ever started into the cold dead eyes of a teddy bear?”

Bucky thought for an overly long moment “No, I haven´t. What about this one?”

“James. That’s a plastic table and it isn´t even a good quality one. In half a year, you will need to buy a new one” grabbing his arm she dragged him away “Come on these place is gigantic, we can find something better”

Yet, they didn´t. Every table y/n suggested was rejected by Bucky and vice versa. It was mostly to big, to small, to pompous, to dull, to much seats, to little seats and so on.

Both had almost reached the end of the section, when y/n suddenly dragged Bucky over to another exemplar. It´s design was simple, a glass top and a blond wooden frame with matching metal legs. Four chairs coated in a clear fabric rounded the dining set.

“This one. It´s the perfect size and I think I saw stools that would match, for the counter” Y/n sounded near desperate. Bucky took his time to look around the table. He was searching for something specific on it.

The price tag.

Y/n had picked out the most beautiful and practical tables, but the price was often more then exorbitantly high, which led Bucky to refuse all her suggestions. And the same happened with this one, it was by far the best table she had found today. It would look amazing between the plants, near the window, the chairs comfortable to sit on, in the early mornings to drink coffee and read the paper. It was a shame the table was out of Bucky`s scarce budget.

“I don´t know” Barnes commented “The chairs will get dirty pretty fast” Y/n´s face dropped.

She really didn´t expect it being so hard to satisfy Bucky´s furniture taste. Y/n thought that given Bucky´s cloth taste, he would have somewhat the same taste for furniture. Modern, comfy and in style with the room. Yet, every piece he had found acceptable was old styled, plastic or just straight out in a horrible color “You really liked that plastic table didn´t you?” She sighted.

For the break of a second Bucky frowned disgusted, then he nodded convincingly. But it was enough for her to know, what was keeping them from agreeing for a piece of furniture.

Cheap.

Every single table he elected was not because of its design, colour or material, it was because it was cheap. For a moment y/n felt bad. It was selfish of her not thinking that way, even though she truly believed that she didn´t have a rich complex, sometimes she did forget that not everyone had unlimited resources.

“Maybe it´s time for a little break. I think I saw a popcorn stand outside” Bucky’s conflicted face lit up a bit at her words.

All rights reserved.

《 Previous - Masterlist - Next 》

Tags: @ginger-swag-rapunzel

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry III

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; abuse of power, threats, chase, whipping, blood.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You face a reckoning for evading your lord.

Note: Today I start my job!!!! I won’t be able to check in until the afternoon but hope you guys have a great Monday!

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Your pleas were silenced by Lester’s single threat to cut out your tongue with his sword. He assured you that so long as you were mostly intact, his liege would show his gratitude. He took you back through the corridors with some direction from the steward but the lords had already left the entrance hall.

He dragged you up the winding stairs, higher than you’d been in that castle, and you shook more and more with each step. You were trapped, there was no way out. Even if you tried to run and he didn’t cut you down, the gates had been closed and Lester had set all the other livery men on guard.

You planted your heels as you saw a familiar back. Lord Rogers strode around the corner and eyed you and the man in his mail and tunic. He gave a crooked grin and watched you curiously but his expression was more knowing as he got closer.

“You seek Barnes?” he asked Lester.

“I do, my lord, I would return to him his property,�� Lester countered tersely.

“I will see her to him,” you squirmed at his promise, he seemed entirely too understanding of the situation.

“My lord, with due respect, I did discover her and I have sworn to Lord--”

“I will make him know you did bring her, uh…”

“Lester Cordray,” he supplied, “might I accompany you then, to see that she tries no tricks.”

“I can handle the girl. You might have brought her to me but it was I who did discover her truly,” Steve grabbed your elbow and pulled you to him, “now away with you before I speak of more than your diligence to your master.”

Lester muttered a ‘my lord’ and left you with the clomp of his iron steps. Steven watched him and turned with his hand still on your arm. You struggled with him as he wrenched you onward.

“You knew?” you breathed.

“You think I pluck any woman from the dirt and put her in my own castle,” he scoffed, “Lord Barnes is an old friend and he did put out the call for aid in accosting his errant and deceitful maid.”

“I did nothin--”

“You stole, as I have it, and more, you lied to me,” he spat, “you’ve wronged two lords and your single offense alone would warrant a whipping if not the dungeons.”

“No, no, I did not steal, my lord, and I did lie but only to protect myself. Lord Barnes, he… he was going to--”

“You swore a duty to him and you ran. Whether you stole, it does not matter for your evasion betrays deception.”

He thrust you forward and you hit a wooden door. He knocked beside your head as you righted yourself. He wrenched you back and huffed. He reached for the handle and pushed the door open. He nudged you in ahead of him and followed.

“Buck,” he said evenly, “as I promised, I believe this is the one.”

Your gaze met Barnes’ impenetrable glare. He saw in a wooden framed chair, elbows bent on the arms, and watched you without flinching. Only his eyes moved as he looked you up and down. He gave a subtle nod.

“I refrained from the switch but I might send for several to choose from,” Rogers offered.

Barnes considered him then looked back to you, “a grand idea, Steve,” he mused, “but before you do,” he tugged at his tunic.

Steve chuckled and reached around you. He grabbed the collar of your dress and tore through the bodice, jolting your body against his. You cried out as he split the fabric with several more rips to the very hem. He pushed it down your arms so it heaped around your feet and did the same to your shift. He swatted the back of your head when you tried to cling to the thinner layer and stepped back only as you in only your stockings..

“I doubt she would run now,” Barnes still did not break his stoic sneer, “the switches… and some wine.”

You hugged yourself and shivered. Steven left for a moment and returned again. You were further unsettled when Barnes did not bid him to leave. You trembled and searched every nook and cranny of the chamber for an inkling of hope. There were only the lords and the thick air sewn with your fear.

A knock came and Steven went to the door again. He shooed away the servant and pushed the wood back into the frame. He plunked the bottle of wine on the table that stood at Barnes’ elbow. He held out the long switches for the other lords perusal as he uncorked the bottle with one hand.

“Her thumb,” he said and swigged from the neck.

Steven crossed to you and checked each switch against the width of your thumb. He chose the one closest and handed it to Barnes as he stood. The men shared a conspiratorial look and you cowered as Lord Rogers turned on you again. You didn’t reach the door before he yanked you back.

He grabbed the back of your neck and bent you over as he angled you around. He presented your ass to Barnes and you felt the thin birch against your flesh. 

“Please, my lord, please, I was only afraid. I did not know your intentions, I am innocent, untouched. How could I--”

“Is that meant to discourage me?” Barnes snarled, “let her scream.”

He pulled back the switch and it lashed across your rear. Your thighs quaked at the force and your flesh split at the impact. He whipped you again and again and again until every inch of your ass seared in agony. He didn’t stop, laying licks across your thighs until you fell to your knees. You sobbed and screamed in pain as Rogers’ hand remained on your neck and he urged you back to your feet.

“You have a physician,” Barnes asked plainly, “I wouldn’t risk festering… I’d like to hold onto her for a time yet.”

“I will have him tend to her,” Steven said, his tone coated in disappointment, “an easy punishment for a thief.”

“It is not all,” Barnes assured, “not close to it. Get her on the bed before she passes out,” he bid, “and do not be so grim, Steve, you will have your reward. Patience, my friend, you know me to honour my promises.”

“I know it,” Steven said as he took you to the bed and you let him lay you down on your stomach. You were dizzy and weak from the pain. “I’ve been patient. A week or so and she has lingered under my roof and I did not touch her.”

“A feat for you, no doubt,” Barnes said, “and I thank you for that but I need time.”

“Buck--”

“Don’t push me. Not right now,” Barnes warned, “it is the last thing I need with the prospect of the capital before me.”

“Certainly,” Rogers relented, “I shall leave you then.”

“As you will,” Barnes resumed his seat as the other lord retreated and the sound of the door marked his exit. 

You reached back and touched your tortured bottom and winced. You bit your other hand and sobbed at the pain.

“Do not touch it,” he barked, “you would cause it to worsen. Be still… be good.”

🏰

You didn’t stop sobbing until after the physician left. Your flesh was still raw and ravaged. You stayed on your stomach as any brush made the cuts burn. Barnes said nothing, the silence worse than any snipe he could have sent in your direction. He only tutted as you tried to cover yourself with a blanket and snatched it back.

He paced and gulped from the bottle. He looked out the window at the sun and sighed. He went to the door without looking back at you. “I must see to my host,” he said, “do not think you will get past this door should you have the gull to emerge as you are.”

“My lord,” you sniffed as he awaited your response in the pressing silence.

The door announced his leave and you pushed yourself up carefully. You groaned at every movement and looked around the chamber. Your clothing, even if they had been sheared near in half, was gone. The physician had removed your shoes and stockings, your blood stained along the top of the latter. You quivered as you stood and walked on your hollow legs.

You peeked out around the window frame onto the green, the autumn blaring in russet, amber, and gold. You kicked yourself for staying so long. You had days to plan your flight. You couldn’t have truly believed that you’d never be discovered so close to Barnes’ lands. Even on the far coast, you would never be certain.

You went back to the bed, unable to sit, and languished in your discomfort. When the door opened again, you kept your eyes to the floor, legs and arms crossed as your only defense. Barnes entered and latched the door. He walked around the room and sat to remove his boots. You winced as you felt the bed shift behind you.

You gasped as his fingers grazed the lashes across your rear, his touch as hot as your skin. He pressed firmer until you cried out louder and he retracted his hand. He harrumphed and leaned against the carved headboard.

“Why did you run?” he asked, “I did not hurt you. I offered you what any of your bearing would be honoured to have. You spurned me and made a fool of me.”

“My lord, I was scared--”

“Scared of what, pray? Did I touch you unkindly?”

“I told you I did not wish for that--”

He slapped your thigh with the back of his hand and you yelped and shook in agony. You folded your legs up and cradled yourself as you braced for another strike.

“It is not upon a servant’s purview to refuse her master, you say ‘yes, my lord’ and do as he wishes,” he hissed, “you don’t not assault him and make him give chase in little more than his cloth.”

“I am so sorry,” you wisped as you whimpered, “I am so very sorry.”

“You sob and grovel, you whine and blubber, and yet I don’t believe you,” he snarled, “my most obedient servant, you betrayed me wholly.”

“My lord,” it was all you could say. If you argued, it would goad him further and it was, as he said, uncouth for any servants to speak back against their master.

“And now, you lay with your back to me and would not look at me,” he continued, “you were well trained, you are aware that it is an offense to present me with the back of your head so boldly.”

You uncrossed your arms and pushed your legs down. You rolled onto your back and exclaimed at how it hurt. You sat up with effort and kept your eyes on the blankets. You bowed your head and awaited further remonstrance.

“My apologies, my lord,” you murmured.

“Look at me in my eyes, damn you,” he demanded.

Your eyes flicked up and met his. He was angry, more angry than you’d ever seen him, and he was hurt. His jaw tensed and he exhaled sharply as he turned away from you and hung his legs over the bed. He shook his head and raised two fingers to signal you.

“Attend my wardrobe,” he growled, “I am spent.”

You rose and went to him. He let you unbutton his brocade, a garment stiffer than his usual grey jackets. You removed his sleeves and then the vest, and he raised his arm as you lifted his tunic and led it down his metal one. He stood and you fumbled nervously with his breeches. You dumped the garments in the woven basket in the corner and he huffed impatiently.

“Well,” he said, “I require a night shirt… and you’ve not finished.”

You swallowed and went to his trunk. You sorted through the contents and took out a long linen shirt. You neared him and he tore it from your grasp and dropped it on the mattress. He nodded and you caught his intent. You hooked your thumbs in the top of his undershorts and shoved them down in a single swoop. You followed them down and unhooked them from his feet.

He waved you off and unbuckled the straps that held on his artificial limb. It fell away and he plunked it on the square table beside the bed. He sighed and stared through you.

You tugged off his socks last as he sat and stood to retrieve the shirt. He watched you as you opened the hole to pass over his head and he tickled your stomach as he lifted his arm to poke his hand through the fabric. 

You let the shirt fall down his torso and he leaned back on the heel of his hand, his member twitching beneath the hem. You kept your eyes straight, afraid to glance directly at him.

“You will sleep on the floor,” he said as he pulled at the wool blanket folded across the bottom of the bed and tossed it onto the stone, “feed the fire before it dies and extinguish the candle.”

You backed away as he slid under the blankets and reclined. You did as he bid and gathered up the thin blanket as you huddled down in front of the hearth. You wanted to cry but had no tears left. If you had only relented to his whims, he might still treat as more than a nippy dog.

[hepalienstuckyrecs]

Stucky Post-CA:TWS Fic Rec

Knitting as therapy by darter_blue @darter-blue [NR, <1k]

Fluff, Bucky Recovering, Oblivious Steve

Bucky is using knitting as therapy. Knitting a scarf for Steve. Because Steve is Bucky's everything.

I guess nobody told Steve that though... (It would've been nice to give that big gorgeous Labrador a heads up - you know?)

Part 1 of Stucky ficlets - prompt challenge

Heart by @concavepatterns, everandthe [T, 1k]

Fluff, Love Confession

"You're not my friend, Steve."

black eyes, bandages and bloody knuckles by @concavepatterns [M, 2.7k]

5+1 Things, Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks

Five times Bucky says “Jesus, Rogers” out of pure exasperation, and one time he means it in a completely different context.

more under the cut

Gorecki by @ataraxetta [M, 3k]

Hurt/Comfort, Soft

Steve has a crummy mission. Bucky has a crummy dream. They cuddle it out.

Steve Rogers Is (Not) A Good Influence by attackofthezee @stevergrsno [T, 4.2k]

Humor

Steve’s left staring at the kid- Peter, his brain helpfully reminds him. The kid is staring back.

“So, you’re, like, Captain America, huh?” Peter asks, and he looks a little starstruck but less so than he did when he’d stared at Tony Stark’s jet taking off.

“Uh, yeah.” Steve says, staring hard at a spot just past the kid’s shoulder as he shoves his hands as deep as they can go into the pockets of his jeans. “Call me Steve.”

“Cool.” Parker breathes, and Steve tries not to think about just how badly this is going to go.

Aka Steve Rogers' American Tour Of Waiting For His Brainwashed Boyfriend To Come Back And Blowing Up Hydra is interrupted when Tony Stark dumps Peter Parker into his lap.

I’ve Been Funny, I’ve Been Cool With The Lines by nerdwegian [T, 6.1k]

Jealous Steve, Team Fic

Steve's not jealous.

do you need anybody by @biblionerd07 [T, 7.2k]

Bucky Recovering, 5+1 Things

5 people who told Bucky to go back to Steve, +1 who never did.

Weather Stripping by Moondog @moonlizards [E, 7.3k]

Exhibitionism, Angst

The problem, as Bucky sees it, isn't so much that Steve doesn't like his 21st century uniforms as much as his uniform from 1943 - they don't fit the same, Steve always says; the fabric feels wrong, he never has time to get used to them before SHIELD comes up with the next one - whatever. The problem isn't even that Steve is always in such a hurry to take the uniform off as soon as they get back from missions.

The problem, as Bucky sees it, is that Steve never seems to want to put on other clothes afterwards.

Stem by IamShadow21 [T, 7.5k]

Bucky Recovering, POV Bucky, Touch-Starved, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Humor, Getting Together, Team Fic, Amnesia

Bucky Barnes discovers sugar, demands coffee, makes a variety of involuntary noises, cuddles up to Steve Rogers, regrows a limb, and fakes it 'til he makes it at being a person.

New Words For Old Desires by CryptoHomoRocker @feelingsaboutgaysuperheroes [T, 7.5k]

Pining, Bucky Recovering

"After the dust settles, after Bucky is found and taken in and his brain is as fixed as it’s going to get, according to everyone who is paid to know about that kind of thing, there’s really no question of where he’s going to live."

Or: Bucky uses unusual coping mechanisms, Steve pines in what he thinks is a very subtle way, and literally everyone else in the world is like GOD just KISS ALREADY.

I’ll hold my breath by Little_Lottie [M, 8.8k]

Mutual Pining, Fluff, Touch-Starved, Light Angst, First Time

Sometimes Bucky’s hands flex in Steve's direction. Neither of them knows exactly why, but at least one of them has a hunch.

Bucky touches everything but Steve, even though Steve is all he really wants to touch.

at last (life is like a song) by obsessivereader @yetanotherobsessivereader [E, 8.8k]

Friends with Benefits, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff, Bucky POV, Oblivious Bucky, Getting Together

What do you do when you’re a hundred years old and suddenly realise you want to bone your best friend? If you’re Bucky Barnes, you swear a lot and spend way too much time in denial. Good thing for Bucky his best friend’s never one to avoid a problem when he can run headlong at it.

no heart to recall by KiaraSayre [M, 15.4k]

Hurt/Comfort, Angst

He's been in Steve Rogers's company for less than twenty-four hours and he's already losing sight of his mission.

Not Another Supersoldier Fantasy by triedunture [E, 16.5k]

Rom Com, Friends to Lovers, Some Angst with a Happy Ending, Not Actually Unrequited Love

Bucky finds a popular sex toy modeled on Captain America's own anatomy. Well, isn't this just perfect? Because even after all this time, he still hasn’t seen Steve’s supersoldier cock. But apparently in this day and age anyone with $29.95 can get a decent replica. The unfairness of this is of galactic proportions.

i was found and now i don’t roan these streets by hipsterchrist [M, 15.6k]

Team Fic, Bucky Feels

They’ve decided to start producing Bucky Bears again, now that he’s all shiny and redeemed and fighting for good on this big Avengers misfits team. "He has a little shiny gray arm," Bucky says, wiggling the stuffed arm in question, one of the tweaks made in the new model. It takes Steve a second to realize that Bucky’s got a small smile on his face, actually looks a little bit proud around the eyes.

Or, Bucky relearns himself and how to be on a team, the rest of the Avengers try to get answers, and everyone watches too much Criminal Minds.

The accidental series by obsessivereader @yetanotherobsessivereader [E, 20.4k]

These are all standalone fics inspired by the accidental tag in AO3 because accidental shenanigans are best shenanigans

If Steve still did that sort of thing, he’d be praying to God and all the saints in heaven that Bucky doesn’t shift any further back on his lap, because if he does, he’s going to get poked in back of the head by Steve’s erect cock.

This is not what he was expecting when he offered to work with Bucky and his therapist on the whole touching thing.

between everything, yourself, and home by napricot [E, 24.4k]

Bucky Recovering, Pining, Reunions, First Time

“This is your home?” asks Bucky at one point.

“It’s where I’m living now, yeah.”

Bucky comes home. Steve's a little slower on the uptake.

[vxlkyrieee]

first blood

Endgame!Steve Rogers x Nurse!reader

Word count: 3352

*set during the latter part of endgame (some mentions of infinity war)*

Who would have ever thought that Captain America would need saving?

He appeared the picture of flawlessness. With a tall muscular build, pretty white teeth and a daunting stare, it was so easy to categorise Captain America as completely perfect and invulnerable.

Surely, living with a reputation like that would be exhausting. As someone that was expected to do no wrong all of the time, Steve was constantly on edge. He only ever disregarded his prestige if his moral compass took the unconventional route; he'd done that so many times, especially for Bucky. It usually cost him more than he would've liked.

But he's in too deep this time, and he can't pay for his salvation. Only you could do that for him. And it would cost you all your innocence.

You were never supposed to be a part of this shit. Steve mentally cursed himself, and he may or may not have mumbled a "fuck" when he first realised Thanos was attacking the compound, because you were still here with them. Why didn't you just go home when Steve insisted you'd worked enough hours?

You were his best girl, sweet and oh so gentle. Of course, you always held your own with more than enough handfuls of grit, but Steve believed you would never hurt a damn fly, and now you're all caught up in his mess.

The rubble seemed to deliquesce around your limbs as you try to recover from Thanos' artillery attack. Bruce, Rocket and Rhody, who were stuck with you, point out the arrival of water. It cascades down, sloshing into the confined space, and you couldn't help but start to sob. With every movement, the wreckage would attempt to submerge your body, leaving you struggling to keep your head above the surface. Rhody held your hand with cold, armoured fingers and Rocket clung to your arm for dear life. Here you were, just a mere woman among heroes.

Yet, that didn't matter right now.

Because Rocket was crying with you, The Hulk was struggling to hold up remnants of thick concrete, and War Machine couldn't move right without a full functioning suit. Just as the last flicker of hope was dimming, Ant-man squeezed his tiny body through the splits of rock and rubble, and added more sparks to your optimism. Still panting, Scott gives the three of you a hand and pulls you out.

"C'mon, guys! I'm pretty sure the whole band's back together now."

Making your way out into the open, you watch as the two adversarial sides yell their battle cries, and merge into a disorderly fight. A war, if you will. Leading the chaos was Steve, who now had everything to lose. The love of your life was throwing himself at a fucking Titan and his army, and all you were doing was spectating.

What the hell were you supposed to do? Wait on the sidelines until someone screamed "medic"?

It was as if that thought had climbed out from your skull and materialised before your eyes, when Steve took a particularly heavy blow. His shield was cracked, and if the vibranium was so easily broken, then what of Steve's bones?

As soon as he staggered to the ground, the cracks and fissures in your confidence began to make themselves known. Slowly, they paved paths along your heart, because what if Steve doesn't make it? What if he can't get back up? What if he's already dying?

Your sight becomes tunnel-visioned and you run towards Steve: the light at the end of the tunnel, as both earth and sky become one ash-ridden thing.

He saw your figure amongst the other Avengers, and they all fought tooth-and-nail around you, making sure you made it to Steve without an extra scratch.

"No! No, you've gotta get outta here now, Darlin'! Go!"

You hadn't moved from his side, and this was the only moment Steve ever wished you weren't so stubborn.

You stare at him, his face mottled with blood and freckles. At this point, Steve had trouble blinking without dirt invading his eyes. Instead of obeying his demand, or answering him, you ignore him completely. There were still many other Chitauri, that much you were sure of.

What you weren't sure of, was if Steve could make it to the end of this fight alive with the injuries he had, even when he could wield Mjolnir. His forearm had been torn open, the muscles just hanging onto their ligaments and bone. Steve being Steve, merely tightened the strap of his shield around the forearm, hoping that that would keep it in place. Another deep wound was opened on his thigh, blood soaking through the thick fabric of his uniform, forming a dark stain. He could feel the pain, like electric shocks, tingle down from his leg to his feet.

The same feet that you had once taught to dance.

The last five years haven't been easy. The first year was especially bad. There were days where you and Steve didn't get out of bed, hoping that your heads would stop spinning if you buried them under pillows for long enough.

This would count two times where Steve survived, and his best friend didn't. What made him so worthy of living?

Everyone would all tell him, the thoughts will pass. It's all in your head. But that was the problem. His head was so full with what he could've done, weighted and heavy like a dumpling, bursting and pounding with tears that never seemed to stop.

Steve could be all cloak-and-dagger sometimes. He was a marvellous arrangement of welded armour plates and kevlar, hiding behind a facade. But if you said the right words, touched him gingerly, held his gaze long enough, he'd dismantle and out would escape his affliction. Defences would crumble as he'd break down in your arms, and you in his. Castles and kingdoms collapsing together.

Even on the good days, Steve's blood flowed differently in his veins. His limbs were almost always exhausted, tired of waiting for some sort of breakthrough, holding on white-knuckled to a weakening hope that threatened to dissipate out of existence. Just like his friends.

But on the good days, the flurry of guilt and dust and Bucky and Sam, would shrink a little, even if by the tiniest fraction, to make enough room for something new. Those days meant slow dancing barefoot in the compound, cable-knit sweaters, ice cream flavoured kisses, filtered sun rays through windows, and tender bear hugs.

Those were the days where you had managed to get Steve's smile to reach his eyes: piercing blue, watery with laughter and flecked with tiny mellow greens. Eyes that glued themselves to your feet as he held your frame, swaying to the beat of soft jazz in the background.

On those days, he'd say "good morning." He'd have one hand in his pocket, and the other one wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. His eyes adorned with dark circles, almost a purple tinge to the skin, but smiley nonetheless.

On those days, he'd buy you a double-scoop cone when you passed an ice cream truck in Central Park, even when it was so cold, your breath would become mist in the air. He'd even try leading the dances you'd have in the afternoon sun, waltzing a little faster so you'd follow in kind, giggling as you did so.

And he'd stumble sometimes, but never once did he give up.

It reminded you of the Avengers' early days, when Steve had planned on courting you. When you were still somewhat an unfamiliar face, only appearing sometimes by Dr. Cho's side. But Steve had his eye on you. Determined to confidently allure you, despite how many times he stumbled over his words in your presence. Instead, he had slipped, fallen really, into a romance he couldn't ever recover from. It was like having his feet swept from under him in a panicked rush, only to land face first into your welcoming arms. It was scary, but he loved it.

And the closer you got to Steve, the closer you got to the rest of the Avengers. Even after the snap. You tried to distance yourself from them at first, as to maintain a professional relationship, but they had a pretty strong magnetic field. Especially the girls. It was like gradually being pulled by gravity into the orbit of a planet you hadn't known existed. It was only then you realised that the Avengers were people too. Human. Well, most of them anyway.

You'd found sisters in Natasha and Wanda who were lost much too soon, and unexpectedly strong bonds with both Nebula and Rocket. There were times before all of this time travel, that you and Nat missed Wanda so much, you cooked all her favourite Sokovian dishes together, from chicken Paprikash, to stuffed Sarmale. It was in her honour you supposed. May as well mourn with good food, right?

On one particular day, you'd made Smazeny Syr, and Nat absolutely insisted the two of you eat it in the unconventional way Wanda loved: with blueberry jam. The smell of frying cheese had lured Rocket and Nebula into the kitchen and you took both their hands, hurriedly dragging them towards the stove.

"It's fried cheese. But, you guys have to try it how Wanda used to eat it. Otherwise you get none," you said with a giggle. Nat cut a piece, stabbing it with a fork before adding a generous dollop of jam.

"Ugh, no thanks I'm out," Rocket sneered.

"Your loss."

Natasha lifted the fork, and Nebula accepted it, albeit with a grimace painted on her face. As she chewed, her expression gradually changed from disgust, to surprise, and finally, delight. She nods her head, humming as she swallows.

"See."

Rocket waved off Nat's 'I-told-you-so's, shaking his head in a disapproving manner.

"Some freakshow you guys are."

You gave him a pointed look, raising an eyebrow and crossing your arms for emphasis. His demeanour faltered under your stare a bit, and he clumsily tried to save himself by favouring you. "'Cept you, (y/n). I kinda like how ya scratch behind my ears."

The room erupted into laughter and muffled complaints from Rocket. "Okay, that's enough outta you, racoon," Nat smiled smugly.

That signature Black Widow smirk. The one that either meant she was amused, or she was gonna kick your ass. You miss that smirk. And your memories of her were smothered with it, mocking you, the memories themselves unraveling into demons of sorrow.

Because now your heart has been broken once again. Your sisters are gone and they'd left you behind. And you will mourn of course, go through the motions of unbearable pain, until eventually it becomes tolerable enough to go back to routine.

But Steve was different. Steve was riddled with more guilt than was possible to endure. And now he could bleed out right in front of you if you didn't do something. But amongst a cold-blooded war, you'd have to avoid being killed too.

You had no weapon on you, and Nebula appeared to be the only one who noticed. So she tossed you a dagger, one that was idly sheathed on her leg anyway. A Chitauri warrior ran straight for you, and Steve was already rendered helpless laying in the dirt. You did the first thing that came to mind. You plunged the dagger right into the warrior's abdomen with a grunt, then ripped it back out, effectively killing the alien without leaving Steve's side.

Steve wished he could have done something. He wished you didn't have to do that. Because although the Chitauri wasn't human, you had just taken the life of a living being, in order to save his. You killed for him, with no reluctance whatsoever.

That was an action that would never be reversed. It was an action that came along with a side dish of guilt that would always make a home in the depths of a person's mind. Steve knew this all too well, coming back from a world war, and having to experience killing other opponents on many occasions. But that was something he wanted to isolate you from. He was the soldier, and you were the nurse. That's how it was always meant to stay, so he could suffer the mental trauma for you. So you'd stay safe from the horrors of having blood on one's hands.

Unlike your usual nature, you end up killing many more Chitauri while trying to clean the site of Steve's wounds.

All you could see was red. The anger and anxiety was so potent, it pressed heavily on your chest, rendering a physical ache in your ribs. Thanos had ruined a lot of things for you. And right now you'd kill as many of his sons of bitches that would dare come near you and the love of your life.

As you apply pressure on Steve's leg, a wave of 5 years worth of longing crashes into you with the force of a meteor shower, when scarlet coloured sorcery crosses your vision. Soon you're up, leaping, flying into Wanda Maximoff's arms. A bone crushing hug steadies the way you tremble against her, and before you know it, her hair is wet with your tears. Of course, time had passed differently for Wanda, but her eyes were apologetic as she caressed your cheek for a second, and you knew she understood how much her absence hurt you.

"C'mon, Princezna. I'll help you with Steve."

Wanda assists you in her progress, stitching Steve's wounds quickly and messily with magic and thread.

Steve notices how his head feels detached to his own body, all his thoughts flooding and melding into one giant entanglement, making it impossible to take a proper look at who was tending to his injuries. Shit, he couldn't even lift his head, weighted by the beginnings of dizziness.

"Is that you, (y/n)?"

"It's me, Baby, it's me. I'm gonna fix you." Fix him. Haven't you already tried countless times? You had thought you could smooth over his creases with love and affection, with time and effort. That was before you realised, no one can fix anyone.

However, Steve knew your efforts weren't wasted. You could never fix him or make him forget about the damage done to him over time. But you always helped him adapt. You helped him carry his burdens. You'd given him space and time to open up his baggage, then even unpacked some of it with him. You had done so much more than fix him.

You made him a new person. Different, sure. But still yours.

Once you had Steve in a stable condition, your adrenaline begins to wear off, and all the noise that previously pierced through the air, had suddenly dissipated. You weren't sure how the battle ended, but

you begin to realise exactly what you had done.

It felt good. As much as you hated to admit it, the bite of sharpened metal into wicked alien flesh was exactly what you needed. Or maybe you needed a minute away from everything. Weren't you supposed to feel apologetic? You were a nurse, for goodness' sake. Your purpose was the exact opposite of what you'd just done. Regardless, you knew Steve would be right there to comfort and console you if need be.

But right now, he needed you.

Bucky makes an appearance amongst the other avengers, and he comes forward, taking Wanda's place beside you. He helps Steve lay down on a stretcher, and into a helicopter sent by who knows who. All you know is, it isn't Thanos, and that's enough consolation for you.

Steve slips from consciousness while in the air, and you catch up with Bucky. He tells you you look different. You tell him you like his hair half-up, half-down.

You all end up inside the home of Tony and Pepper, and it becomes a sort of refuge. A place where everyone can wind down after the chaos and just be. Bucky carries Steve into one of the spare bedrooms, and you properly attend to his wounds. You start by unclipping and disregarding his helmet, before passing your fingers through his flattened hair. Bucky takes it from you, putting it by the window sill.

The bottom half of his face was painted with ash, which despite his predicament, makes you bite your lip to keep from giggling. He smirks at you, and you smile back warmly, wiping his face with a washcloth and a bucket of warm water, careful not to disturb his blooming bruises. You examine them softly. Your fingertips tickle against Steve's chin, but he doesn't complain. You hand him the bucket and he spits in it, ridding most of the blood in his mouth.

Whilst the bucket became more and more clouded with the backwash of the battle, Steve looked more and more like himself. You were so tangled up in Steve, you almost forgot Bucky was there until you hear the sound of his voice. His tone seemed to be sweetened by the sight of how his two friends have grown so much closer than when he left them.

"I'll give you lovebirds some space."

Before he turns to leave, (and supposedly find Sam) Steve clasps his hand on Bucky's arm. "It's good to have you back, Buck. We missed you."

Bucky gives you both a warm grin, nods, then leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

You take off Steve's uniform with languid movements, and he releases a sigh of relief. He was still sore, and unbelievably lethargic, but being this close to you made his brain all fuzzy, blocking out physical pain, to just feel you. He leans forward, resting the weight of his bare shoulder on you as he kisses you softly. The kiss was full of a strong ardour that seeped right into your bones, yet fragile enough, so that both your insecurities shone through. You'd have to rebuild much of yourselves later on, especially after today. Brick by broken brick, you'll both assemble your castles again. But for now, the kiss was enough to put a band-aid over everything.

"Love you, darlin'"

His voice spirals down your ear canals like melted chocolate, almost making you forget your own name. It made you drunk and alert at the same time, a familiar buzz running through your body. And when you smiled down at him, as sweet and soft as whipped cream, you didn't have to return the phrase. He knew. Steve had always been sentimental in that way, even when he wasn't there beside you. Like the months he spent AWOL as a fugitive after the whole Winter Soldier incident in Washington. He'd send you cuttings of your favourite flowers in an envelope, every now and then. No address, no name, no sender, but you knew it was him. You knew they meant 'I love you, be safe, I'll be back when I sort everything out.'

You pull away slowly from his lips, giggling, eliciting Steve to chuckle too. Such a sound was too rare nowadays, and you savoured it, locking the sound in your head to replay over and over later on.

"Okay, Cap. No more distractions, I gotta get you all clean and patched up."

"Only if you kiss me like a war just ended," he bargains.

"Alright, baby. But no frisky business. I'm exhausted."

Steve winks, adding a flirty little salute on the end "Yes, ma'am."

You'd left the curtain half open, hanging the fabric over the top of the window frame like a limp puppy ear. That way, the sunlight came through the window pane in mellow slices, coating your skin in a warm blanket of light while you indulge in Steve's kisses again.

He tasted like salt and cinders, but among that, after five long years, he finally tasted like Steve again. He was starting to heal. And it had cost him the mantle of Captain America, but planning to place it in Sam's care, it was a price he was willing to pay.

 Taglist:

@asgardiangurll @avengingnatasha​ @whyamihere-bro​

[world-of-aus]

I’ll be there for you - Part 2

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 4,780

Warnings: mentions of abortion (extremely brief), a pinch of angst, a pinch of fluff

Author’s Note: Second chapter, there will be one final one after this, its currently being written and edited, so i hope to have it out soon! I hope you all enjoy part two and part one will be linked below if you have not caught up yet! 

SERIES MASTERLIST

Bucky grinned at you no longer hesitant In grabbing a hold of your outstretched hand, the two of you walking towards the waiting nurse

“Good morning, follow me this way!” She chirped happily.

Much like at the clinic it went the same, after taking your vitals she turned to you, “I’ll need you to undress from your bottom half, and put this over yourself, the doctor will be in shortly.”

You stared after her eyes wide as you took in what she had requested of you. “Uh,” you began turning your head slightly towards Bucky. He was grinning at you deviously, a twinkle in his eye, “it’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”

Your mouth fell open at his statement, “you haven’t seen it before.” You hissed.

He held his hands up in mock surrender, “alright alright grouchy, you could have just told me you wanted me to see it.” He teased throwing you a wink.

You gasped reaching out to smack his arm slightly earning you a chuckle, “James Buchanan Barnes, you cut that out right now,” you grunted, “turn around I don’t need you seeing my lady bits, not like this.” You murmured without thinking.

He smirked up at you, “oh, so you would like me to see eventually?” he questioned in a teasing tone.

“I - I- would you shut up and turn around so I can undress!” you hissed your cheeks flaring in embarrassment.

He let out a low chuckle but stood anyway turning his back to you. You made quick working of kicking off your shoes pulling down your jeans and panties covering yourself with the paper like fabric over your bottom half. You got back onto the exam table making sure you were fully covered before giving Bucky the okay to turn around. He was turning to face you just as the doctor was knocking at the door, her head peering in, she smiled at the two of your brightly, “Good morning you two, hello y/n,” she greeted, “how are you feeling?" she questioned.

“Honestly, a little exposed,” you murmured, which earned a laugh from her and Bucky.

“Well we wouldn’t want that,” she joked back, “Well lets go ahead and check on the baby, since your last period was april 10, you should be around 9 weeks but after this sonogram we’ll able to tell you how far along you actually are, as well as your due date” she stated.

You nodded your head as she moved around the room gathering the things she needed as well as moving a monitor closer to your bedside table, “Uh dad,” she said looking at Bucky, “you can move by the mom’s bedside, so you can have a better look at the baby, and not so much of well you know.”

You were absolutely mortified, not because the doctor had called Bucky the dad but because she was referring to your lady bits!

Bucky let out a low chuckle as he moved around to your side his chair scraping against the tile.

“Alright y/n since you’re still too early to detect with our regular sonogram wand, we’re going to do it through our transvaginal ultrasound wand, you may feel some pressure but I promise that’s totally normal,” the doctor walked you through the entire thing, showing you the wand she was planning to use.

“Alright you two, you ready to see baby?” she questioned cheerfully. You and Bucky both reached for each other, your hand gripping his tightly in yours, you chewed on your lower lip as she began to insert the wand.

The screen went from a black grey screen to exactly the same image, but now there was a bean shaped sack with a - “is that a tadpole?” Bucky spoke up.

The doctor laughed, “No, sorry to disappoint dad, but that there is your baby your looking at,” your eyes began to glisten as you looked over at the screen, “Alright let’s see if we can hear a heartbeat,” she murmured as she toggled around with the computer. You watched as she enhanced the screen, suddenly a soft rapid whooshing filled the room. The first tear fell from your eyes, “Is that – is that really their heartbeat?” you sniffled looking at the screen through blurred eyes.

The doctor looked over to you giving you a warm smile as she passed you a tissue, “Sure is momma, and from the looks of it you are about 9 weeks like predicted, so your due date will be January 20, granted everything goes well in the course of the next months, and nothing changes.”

The doctor resumed to a regular screen, printing a screen image for you of your first ultrasound, you grabbed it from her hand looking over the image, “Here’s one for dad to,” she said handing you another image. You went to go correct her but Bucky was cutting you off as he rushed out a quick “thanks” snatching the picture from your hands.

After you had finished with your sonogram you and the doctor talked back and fourth about any concerns you had, you even occasionally found yourself wanting to turn to Bucky to ask if he had any questions, but then the cold reality of this not being his child and the reality of your actual situation would hit you and you would have to bite your tongue.

“Well if you have no further questions ill go ahead and let you get changed, and once your finished up in here you can get dressed and make your way to the front to schedule your next appointment.” She smiled.

You and Bucky both thanked her watching as she exited the room, he handed you over you clothes turning away from you so that you could change, you could feel a shift in energy between the two of you, but you weren’t sure what could have caused it.

After setting up your next appointment you and Bucky exited the office he was busy typing away on his phone with one hand the sonogram gripped tightly in his other.

You stood by his side patiently waiting for him to finish up so that you could thank him for being here at the appointment with you and maybe throw in an apology for the doctors continuous slip up of calling him dad which you never corrected.

After a minute he was pocketing his phone glancing up at you the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips, “so you want to get breakfast?” He questioned throwing you for a loop.

You gaped at him, “Buck you’re supposed to head back to the tower after this.”

He grinned, “texted the team I wouldn’t be returning after all, have some more important things to be tending to.” He winked

You rolled your eyes slightly at the wink, a grin forming on your lips, “Bucky,” you sighed, “you need to stop coping out of important things with the team for me, they’re going to get suspicious.”

He swung his arm around you pulling you in closer, “they’re already suspicious, but they’re not going to suspect a thing, don’t worry doll.” He assured.

You went to question his “they’re already suspicious” statement but he was already whisking you away to the parking lot not giving you time for an argument.

Your pregnancy was passing you by in a nauseatingly grumpy haze, you were three months in and already tired. Your coworkers had been constantly questioning your crabbiness, but you had always been able to pass it off as stress from a new assignment, or just stress of life in general and they were quick to except your answer as you were still not showing yet. Bucky had been an absolute angel through your morning sickness and well the whole newness that came with being pregnant, it seemed he was always there to lend you a helping hand when necessary, truly the man would never back down, not even when you were snapping at him, oh no, that only caused him to dote on you harder, leaving you to moan and groan under your breath.

Canceling plans had become part of Bucky’s routine and just like he had promised those 3 months ago that the team would not become suspicious of him always bailing they indeed had. It had been another of those nights where he had bailed on the team again. They had been trying to get Bucky out and on a date for the past month, but Bucky was insistent that he wasn’t interested, well that hadnt worked out the least in his favor. You and Bucky had been relaxing on the couch watching a series on Netflix, when a persistent pounding sounded at your door. Bucky glanced over at you, then back over to the door, “were you expecting someone?” he questioned. You shook your head, Bucky sighed as he pushed himself off the couch making his way to the door. He was barely unlocking the door before it was swinging open, Sam barging in, Steve and Natasha trailing behind him.

“alright tinman, enough is enough, you’ve been bailing on us for too long now, you’re going out with us whether you want to or not!” Sam stated as he entered your home.

“Yeah Barnes, I’m sorry to say, but I agree with Sam on this one,” Natasha spoke up from the trio.

Bucky turned to Steve baffled, “Sorry bud, but I'm going to also have to agree on this one, we barely see you,” he said, “no offense to you y/n” he added acknowledging your presence on the couch.

“So go get changed and meet us out here, were going out and your coming with us, we’re going to get you a girl.” Sam announced, the words made your heart into the depths of your stomach.

“Sam come on man, me and y/n are watching a show, I can’t just bail on her.” Bucky spoke up.

“Look man of course you can, I’m sure y/n wouldn’t mind, you’re probably driving her crazy forcing her to spend this much time with you.” Steve added, “isn’t that right y/n?” he questioned looking at you.

You tried your hardest not to look like a deer in headlights, “Uh,” your eyes bounced around the room, “Uh, yeah no, that’s fine, he can go out with you,” you murmured, not bearing to meet anybody’s eyes without giving away your emotions.

“See!” Sam exclaimed swinging his arm out in your direction, “she said it’s cool, besides that’s why Nat tagged along, she’s going to keep your girl company, while we’re out.”

“Wouldn’t say I'm his girl, if the reason you’re taking him out is to find him a girl,” you muttered with an eye roll.

No more words were shared between the four of you as Sam and Steve pushed Bucky to his room, Natasha making her way over to you. Joining you on the couch a comfortable silence washed over the two of you for a short second before she was turning in her seat towards you. At first she didn’t say anything just watching you, her hands wandering your form, you swallowed feeling tense at her gaze.

“Your almost 4 months aren’t you, why aren’t you showing yet?” she questioned.

Your head snapped in her direction eyes going wide, “Excuse me?” you choked out. How did she know, nobody knew, how the hell did she find out?

“Come now y/n I'm actually hurt you think I wouldn’t find out.” she grinned her eyes burning into yours.

“How did you – how did you find out?” you murmured voice dropping to a whisper.

“Barnes may be able to resist the other two, but twist his arm a little and he squirms.” She shrugs.

Your mouth dropped open Natasha taking notice, “don’t worry he didn’t tell me much,” she tried to reassure, “but he had been so distant from the group, and so,” she tapped her finger to her chin as if in thought, “so happy, the other two were oblivious to it but he was practically glowing, it was just unlike the Bucky I had seen.”

You were unsure how to react much less what to say, you weren’t expecting this to happen, much less explain the situation. Had Bucky explained the entire situation, did he explain the agreement he had offered?

“You don’t have to tell me what happened, Barnes said it was an emotional subject,” she sighed, “ I’m sorry I spilled it like this on you, but I almost thought Barnes was bluffing about it, I’m sorry.” She whispered her hand coming to grip yours.

You gripped hers in yours, “it’s okay, I was expecting this to happen even if he had told me otherwise,” you said softly, “ I was also planning on eventually telling everyone as there’s only so much I can do/wear to hide the ever growing bump.” You whispered a small smile gracing your lips as you removed your hands from hers to smooth out your shirt over the small rounded bump.

Natashas eyes widened slightly glossy, “oh my god,” she whispered her hands coming out to lay over it, “that is the most precious thing I have ever seen.” She whispered glancing back at you.

You and Natasha heard the boys footsteps returning, their bellowing laughter filling the hall. Natasha pulled her hand away, you pulled at your shirt just as the boys came in.

“Everything alright?” Bucky questioned looking between you and Natasha suspiciously.

You nodded your head stiffly, “everything’s fine, you all should get out of here.” Natasha spoke up.

“Don’t have to tell us twice,” Sam cheered gripping Bucky’s shoulders tightly as he led him out of the house not letting Bucky give you or Natasha a second glance.

With the boys out of the house you and Natasha took some time to talk about your situation. You explained everything to her, from your drunken night, to finding out you were pregnant, to how Bucky had promised to be there for you through this, she even grilled you enough to the point that she had you spilling your feelings for the man.

“ты должен сказать ему, дорогаяq” she replied her hand falling on your shoulder.

“I don’t know Nat, just because he’s opting to be there for me doesn’t mean he’ll hold true to his word, and it definitely doesn’t mean he has feelings, he’s my best friend that’s all this is.”

She raised a brow at you shaking her head slightly, “типичный,” she sighed, “trust me y/n he’s not doing these for any of the reason’s you’re thinking, he really does care for you, and its definitely in more than a friendly way.”

You wanted to argue with the redhead but you knew it would’nt get you anywhere, much like Bucky she was strong willed and hardheaded and once set on something there was no changing her mind.

The two of you continued to enjoy your night, the hours ticking by as you and natasha watched films and talked about your plans for your pregnancy.

“You’re looking pretty tired y/n, i think i should head out and let you get some rest,” she murmured a small yawn passing by her lips. You looked at the clock on the stand next to you it was nearing 12 in the morning, and still no sign or word from the boys.

“Do you have a ride though?” you questioned, “ the boy’s arent even back yet, and i havent recieved any word from them.”

“Yeah i brought one of Tony’s cars with me, followed the boys here,” she said as she stood stretching out, “as for the boys,” she looked away as if contemplating the next words from her mouth.

“As for the boys?” you questioned

“Sam texted me to let you know not to wait up, they all found a lucky lady for the night.” she murmured.

Though your heart had cracked in two falling into the depths of your stomach, you would not let it show through on your face. Natasha had seen through you as she leaned towards you her hand falling softly to your shoulder, “I’m sorry y/n i had told Sam it wouldn’t be a good idea, but you know how Sam can be.”

You shook her concern off, “it’s fine Nat, it’s not like Bucky and i were a thing, he’s allowed to do whatever he pleases.” you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince more, yourself or her. Besides it was true, you had no right to feel any sort of way, you and Bucky weren’t a couple and the baby growing inside of you wasn’t his. Bucky was free to do his own thing, and you needed to remind yourself that no matter how bad you wished the circumstances were different. After seeing Natasha our and with wanting nothing else more than the comfort of your own bed you decided to call it a night.

You groaned, pushing the blankets off of you aggressively you sat up half asleep in bed stomach rumbling, mumbling profanities under your breath you let your feet touch the ground You glanced at the clock that said it was three fifteen in the morning another groan left your lips “Jesus Christ,” you muttered getting out of bed. You stomped over to the door pulling it open roughly, letting it swing against the wall, not caring that it made a thud that echoed throughout the eerily quiet house. You definitely didn’t care about the noise you were making, you were upset to have been forced awake by your hungered thoughts, that had your stomach growling this late like a creature of the night.

Opening the fridge you looked around before you reached in pulling out a carton of eggs. Setting them over by the stove you began going through his cabinets looking for a pan, once again not caring that you were slamming things around and being way too loud for three in the morning. Finally finding a pan you pulled at it only to realize it was caught on another pan, in a fit of frustration caused by your hunger you yanked at it causing more pans to fly from the cabinet as well. You groaned your head flying back, setting the pan you were going to use on the counter before bending down, which was getting harder as the days went on, you picked up all the other ones that littered the floor, shoving them back in the cabinet before slamming it shut, you knew the next time that cabinet was opened it would be raining pans.

You grabbed the closest bowl, grabbing a handful of eggs before you began to crack each one into your container.

“Y/n?” Bucky questioned, you jumped where you stood your hand coming up to rest on your wildly beating heart. You glanced up at him to see him shirtless wearing just a pair of pajama bottoms. His hair was a ruffled mess and he was rubbing his eye, staring at you. “What are you doing doll?”

You glared at him. “What does it look like I’m doing, I’m making eggs Einstein.” You said as you poured your battered liquid egg onto the waiting pan, reaching for a spoon so you could stir it.

“At three in the morning?” he questioned squinting at the clock on the microwave.

You shrugged “I was hungry, tried to fight it off as much as I could but I couldn’t.” You muttered.

“You couldn’t wait till morning, I was trying to get some sleep doll,” he said rubbing at his eyes, your face morphed into a glare.

“Oh, I’m sorry, was I making too much noise for you? Did my noise interrupt your sleeping?” You grumbled swirling your eggs around angrily.

He raised a brow at you, “what?” He questioned taken aback by your tone, “is something going on?” He questioned

“I’m pregnant Barnes!” You hissed shutting off the stove. “I can’t control when I’m hungry, much less control anything else going on in my life, and honestly you should be a little more understanding!”

He looked at you face blank, “anything else you’d like to complain about?

You knew it had come out as a rhetorical question but due to the events of the night, you decided to just go at it.

“Actually you know what, yes, I have a bone to pick with you,” you started pointing an accusatory fork at him, “next time you plan on staying out late I’d appreciate if y’all didn’t keep me in the dark about it, I deserve to know things too and not have to find out you’re going to be “hooking up” with someone from her, we’re roommates Barnes I need to be alerted if you’re bringing a girl from the bar home.” You grunted shoveling a forkful of eggs into your mouth

His eyes twinkled, “anything else doll?” He mocked drawling out the word doll.

“Yes,” you muttered, “ I’m up at three in the morning eating god damned eggs when I should be sleeping like a normal person,” you started, “I’m fat, my work clothes and regular clothes are shrinking by the day and does that stop me from eating these eggs?” You scowled shoveling more in your mouth, bucky looked at you to continue, “it doesn’t,” you answer, “I also spend half my work day in the restroom because I have to pee every ten minutes, and you want to know another thing, you are allowed to go out and do whatever or whoever you want because this isn’t your responsibility, we’re just best friends who are roommates and I shouldn’t care that you’re out picking up women but it does.” You huffed, “ I’m tired of being pregnant, my emotions are all over the place and I can’t even control them, what the heck am I going to do for the next five months?” You groaned looking down at your now empty plate.

Bucky chuckled softly, “feel better?” He questioned moving around the island to step closer to you, you glanced up at him through your lashes a warm hue covering your cheeks when you saw his naked torso.

“Just a little,” you admitted lamely. You sucked in a breath holding it and letting it fill your lungs before it was escaping quickly through your nose. You filled looked over to him, “ I’m sorry Buck, I’m just so goddamn frustrated, I’m so tired, I just want this bean out already,” You sighed.

He gave you a warm smile, “I figured as much, that’s why I let you continue.” A smirk graced his lips as he caught your eyes slipping across his chest, “anything I can do to help relieve your stress?” He questioned lips pulled into a teasing smirk.

Your cheeks turned red at his teasing, your eyes turning away from his as you bit down on your lip. It took you a second before your could look at him again, this isn’t the first time he had made a teasing statement like this, your friendship had been built on the teasing moments,  but this was the first time that his eyes trailed your body the way they were. His eyes trailed your body taking in his shirt your wore, the one that wasn’t quite long enough to fall mid thigh on you with your bump, you knew if you moved even slightly he would get a view of your ass clad in your lace panties.

You didn’t say anything as the two of you stood there, a cloud of tension had settled over you so thick you probably could have seared it with a knife. This had never happened before, this was new territory for the both of you, but then you thought back to your conversation with Natasha and how you should tell him how you felt. While you weren’t sure you could do that just yet, you decided that you couldn’t take it anymore. You were hormonal and to be blunt a little horny, okay very horny. You leaned back against the island hoisting yourself up to perch yourself on the cool granite. Your eyes watched for Bucky’s reaction, you needed to know you weren’t reading into this, you needed to know this wasn’t one sided. Bucky’s eyes followed your movements, his eyes darkening slightly as he drank in your form. He walked closer to you closing the gap, his eyes locked with yours. He stopped In front of you, his eyes dropping to trail your legs, the fabric of his shirt doing nothing to conceal you, his eyes trailed up till they were locking with yours once more.

You continued to test the waters, pushing the boundaries a little farther as you pushed your legs apart, your feet swinging up to wrap around his waist to pull him closer. You slid forward on the counter, his body meet yours closing the distance. His hands creeped up to your hips gripping them, your hands reached out, fingers dancing along the smoothness of his chest trailing up where they locked behind his neck pulling him down to you. You faces were inches apart his warm ragged breath fanning across your face. His tongue peeked out wetting his lips, your body shivered craving his touch.

“Bucky” you breathed out his names ghosting across his lips, beckoning him to close the distance.

A small smirk kissed the side of his lips, as he leaned down his lips connecting with yours. The moment your lips touched you swore it was like a swarm of butterflies had been released in your stomach. You could feel the passion, the want, and was that love?

His hands fell from your hips fingers tracing lines along the skin of your thighs driving you absolutely insane. You pulled away from his lips your head thrown back as breathy moan fell from your lips. Bucky’s lips trailed down your jaw making their way across your neck seeking out that spot just underneath your ear.

“Buck” you moaned.

He pulled back slightly his lust filled eyes looking up at you,

“I want you, I want you so bad.” You breathed out staring into his ocean blue eyes.

His eyes softened and you knew that in that moment he understood your words. You knew he understood that you wanted him more than just in this moment.

You wanted him.

“You have me sweetheart,” he whispered into your lips as he connected them once again. You smiled into the kiss, feeling him do the same and for a second the focus shifted.

You were no longer just kissing in a lustful rage but instead the moment had slowed as you savored the feeling of his body against your own. With each kiss placed on your lips it brought on a whole new feeling of want and you knew that this would change things between the two of you. You knew that after this night there would be no going back. You were giving yourself over to him and he was taking it, showing you just how much you meant to him.

He wanted you.

His hands traveled back up your legs, brushing past you hips and coming to a stop at the small of your back. He pushed you forward gently hoisting you up in his arms, lifting you off the counter. He carried you effortlessly to his bedroom, setting you down on his plush bed. He tugged at your shirt, pulling it up and over your head smirking when he noticed you weren’t wearing a bra. His lips found yours again, your fingers running along his chest as he hovered above you you came to a stop just above the waistband of his pants.

He pulled away from you, a whimper falling from your lips at the loss of contact. He hovered over you, his hands on either side of your head holding him above you.

His eyes softened, “I need you to know this changes everything for me doll, I want to be there for you in more ways than one.”

“I know Buck,” you smiled a single hand coming up to cup his cheek.

“I’m not going anywhere sweetheart, I want this with you, I want to be there for you, I want to do this with you.” He whispered as he leaned back down closing the distance between your lips once more. You pulled him closer to you, letting the feelings you had grown for him over the past months make themselves known as you gave yourself to him for the first time.

Part 3 FIN

Taglist: @minillamakeup-blog​

[the-great-imagines-of-1812]

Through The Years (Bucky Barnes x Fem!Stark! Reader) Pt. 2

A/N: Enjoy! As always, any feedback is appreciated! Let me know if you want to be tagged! And YES, Bucky makes his first appearance in this chapter. ;)

tags: @the-romanian-is-bae @a-girl-who-loves-disney

tw: catcalling

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

LONDON ENGLAND, 1943

“Alright. Howard, Y/N. Welcome to London. In this camp, resides the 107th and 108th infantry regiments. You two will be able to set up your stuff over...”

Peggy thinks for  a second. “Ah! There. It’s Perfect.” She pointed  to a more secluded area of the camp, where you and Howard would be able to set up camp and experiment.

“Thanks, Peggy. We’ll see you later?” You said, turning to Peggy, as Howard unloaded he last of you guys’ things off the plane.

She hugs you. “Of course you will. I’ve got to go check on Steve. He’s got another USO performance tonight, one in Edinburgh, another in Glasgow, and we continue up North. It might be some time before you see me, sadly.”

You frowned. “Well, make sure to write. I couldn’t bear not hearing from you.” 

She gave you a smile and said her goodbyes as she wandered off, looking for Steve. 

“Y/N/N, care to help me with the luggage?” Howard said, already carrying a few suitcases. 

“Of course, Howwie.” As you turned to grab the suitcase the suitcase was already up in the air. 

Frozen in shock you stood there, hoping no one would see. 

“Y/N!! What was that?”

You nervously turned to Howard, ringing your hands. “What was was what, Howwie?” 

He gave you a look. “You know what I’m talking about. We’ll discuss this later.”

You sighed and grabbed the suitcase, a rucksack and another suitcase, following Howard.

~~~~~~~~

After you and Howard set up camp on the clearing, he immediately went out, in search of General Philips.

You sighed. You should’ve told him since the start.

To clear your head, you decided to take a walk a round the camp, to simply familiarize yourself with the place. To clear your head too, that would be nice. 

The men you saw all around the camp were pretty much the same. Drinking, sobbing, sleeping. Oh, and don’t forget the body odor. 

This was not what you were used to, but these men are fighting a war. The least you could do is give them a break. 

“Heyyyyyy pretty lady! C’mere.” you heard a drunker soldier slur out.

You turned and crossed your arms, scoffing. “Excuse me?”

“He said c’mere, lady!” another soldier said from behind him. 

“You is the only lady here, we could pass you around, darlin’ there’s enough of us to go around” the first soldier said.

“No thank you sir, I have enough self-respect and dignity to not be seen with the likes of you.”

The second soldier, his friend, spoke up again. “What’re ya doin’ here anyway? Are’nt you supposed to be in the kitchen?”

You were starting to become scared. “I’m an engineer.  I have no excuse for being in the kitchen.”

“All ladies belong in-”

“HEY! Leave her alone!” the soldier was cut off by a voice. You turned to see, and it was a tall, blue eyed soldier, with hazel-colored hair, and fair skin.

He was tall, he stood straight he wanted to be seen. His crystal blue eyes pierced through the room, but were focused on you. He most definitely stood out from the rest. 

Then it hit you. This man was the mysterious stranger you had seen at the Stark expo a couple of months back. 

He grabbed the soldier by his shirt. “That’s no way to treat a lady. Show some goddamn respect.” he put the soldier down and turned to you.

“I apologize on behalf of my fellow soldier, Miss.” he said, kissing your hand.

You smiled at him, a blush covering your cheeks. “I-It’s ok. I’m used to it, I guess.”

He looked you straight in the eyes this time. “No one should be used to it, Man or Woman.”

“You crossed your arms and looked up at him again; him being much taller. “You got a name, soldier?, or are you just going to remain my knight in shining armor?’

He chuckles. Damn, that laugh could brighten anyone’s day. “I’d rather remain your knight in shining armor, gorgeous. But if ya really wanna know, the name is James Buchanan Barnes. Friends call me Bucky.”

“We’re friends, now?”

“I’d be surprised if we weren’t, doll-face. I think Everyone needs a friend right now.”

He pauses to scan your face. 

“How about it darlin’, you got a name?”

“Y/N. But friends call me Y/N/N.”

By this time, him and you were already walking off to the edge of the forest, not to far where he first found you. You bot sat down on a log.

“Y/N, that’s it? No last name?” he said, in a teasing tone.

You laughed. “Y/N Stark. I know what you’re going to say. I do run Stark Industries with my brother.”

“More like he runs it with you, doll-face. I was at the expo this year. I’ve seen your work. You have a talent.”

You chuckle and blush, breaking eye contact with him. “You are a charmer, Barnes. I got to give you that.”

“Ya know before I left for the war, they used to call me ‘the heart breaker of Brooklyn’” 

“No way Barnes. A guy like you? No way.”

“Yes way.”

“I don’t believe you Barnes” you feigned shock.

“You better!”

“Uh, well, how about you tell me how you became this gorgeous genius engineer, huh?”

You let out a laugh, not holding back this time. “I attended  a boarding school in London, St-martin-the-fields high school, strictly for girls, which is were i met Peggy. I later went on, against my parents wishes, I got a P.H.D in engineering from NYU; graduated early.”

He seems to look at your with pure wonder in his eyes. “Impressive.What after?”

“I became a professor of Engineering at Columbia College, also in New York. My parents didn’t like this, so they sort-of threw me out.”

“I am so sorry doll. No one deserves that, no matter how big their aspirations may be.” he said, laying his hand over yours. 

“The teaching position didn’t last long though, that’s when I lost it and moved in with Howard. And a few years back, we started what today is known as Stark Industries.”

“You continue to impress me with every passing second. What’re you doing on an army camp like this?”

“The SSR was re-tasked by President Roosevelt. We’re bringing the fight to HYDRA. Anyway, enough about me, sport. You practically know me already.”

He told you all about his childhood in Brooklyn, saving Steve from trouble at every corner. 

“Wait, wait. hold the phone. You know Steve, Barnes?”

“Y-yeah, I do. Since we were kids. How do YOU know him?” 

You let out a hearty chuckle. “That’s a story for another time.”

You two talked for hours upon hours, until the night sky got even darker, and all the soldiers had retreated to their tents. He told you about his childhood with Steve, how his mother would scold him as a child for stealing a cookie from the jar, his cherry red bike when he was a teen. He told you about his sister Rebecca, and how you two would be best friends, if you ever had the chance to meet. 

“Y/N! Where are you?” 

This startled you, and you jumped into Bucky’s arms. “Woah there, dollface, I haven’t even taken you out dancin’ yet-”

“Hands of my sister!” Howard came running and pulled you away from Bucky, shoving you behind him.

“Howard I’m fine!”

“Woah there Mr. Stark. It wasn’t-”

“If I EVER see you with her AGAIN, I will fight you on SIGHT. Let’s go, Y/N/N”

You mouthed a ‘sorry’ to Bucky as Howard dragged away from him. Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets ‘It’s okay’ with a dopey smile as he walked back to his tent.

He just hoped he would see you again. Maybe he’d take you dancing.

~~~~~~~~

Howard dragged you by the hand all the way to a bigger tent, one that wasn’t his and yours. “Where are we, Howwie?” 

“I’m taking you to see someone. Because there’s something your not telling me. How long have you been lying to me about the serum? huh? how long has it been affecting you?” He said, face morphing from anger to sadness to worry.

“Ever since... I guess there’s no use in lying to you.”

“Please, sis, I just want to help you.”

“I guess- ever since Steve received the serum? When I was shot? My best guess is that the bullet went through a tube of the serum, then into my ribs.” 

You paused.

“Ever since then, when I’m alone, I concentrate on something, let’s say a book, I can lift it with my mind. My brain just concentrates, it moves. I tell it to move forward, it does so. It’s at my command if I just focus on it. I guess that with the suitcase you told me to lift, it was just- an accident.”

Howard sighed and let go of your hand. “What you have, dear sister, what you have gained, is telekinesis is a  superpower where the user has an ability to move things at will. At it’s highest levels, dismantle the fabrics of the universe.”

“Howard, I’m scared.”

“Don’t be. I’m here to help you. Come with me.”

You both walked into the tent, were General Philips was siting at his desk.

“Howard, Y/N. Finally I wan’t to talk to you both. Howard as told me about the situation of yours, Y/N, your secret is safe with me.”

“What is it, General?”

“I want you to join the 107th.”

“General! I beg your pardon-”

“Allow me to talk, Ms. Stark. The regiment needs someone like you. I know you’ve expressed your interest in the war efforts-”

“But General, the men, my brother- you can’t expect me to use telekinesis in my service-”

“You’ll still be able to work with Howard. Don’t worry about the men. They need someone to keep them in line. Without your powers. Only if and when i tell you to.”

You clutched Howard’s arm. You had never been this nervous.

The General stands up from his desk to pick up a box, which he opens, to reveal a army uniform with pins on it, including three stars, identifying your rank. 

“What I’m saying is this: Welcome to the 107th infantry regiment, Lieutenant General Y/N Stark.”

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: feedback is appreciated! :)

- Talya

[howdoyousleep3]

it’s this sunrise

Here is yet another Ask response that has turned into a goddamn fic. I hope it’s the soft fluffy smut clothes sharing vibes that were desired. I tried to keep it soft af but honestly it got away from me. It also made me realize I rarely write in Steve’s point of view. Enjoy! 

If there is ever a time when Bucky gets out of bed before Steve it will truly be the end of the world. Aside from maybe Christmas morning and the nights he spends working away on homework or essays, Steve is always the first one out of bed. Even on weekends when the two of them are free to sleep in and wake up at their leisure, Steve is the one waking at an earlier hour, the one out of bed earlier, the one starting his day earlier. That remains the case on this gorgeous Saturday morning. Steve feels like it’s the first time in months he hasn’t been woken by a call on his day off and he hadn’t realized how nice that was, or had forgotten at least. After kissing Bucky a few times on the forehead and cheek he wanders out of the bedroom in a pair of sweats. 

He makes some coffee, spends a few minutes going around and opening all of the blinds and curtains (Bucky will hate him but it’s all fine), sips on said coffee and thinks about the things they need to do this weekend. They need to head to the market for a few items, maybe go out to lunch or dinner, not having gone out in so long. He’s sure Bucky has some homework to do, knows they need to do chores around the house. Maybe they can walk around the city some, leave the car at home. 

He’s so wrapped up in his deliciously domestic thoughts when he decides to level up the domesticity and make some pancakes. Bucky loves pancakes. He thinks there are some peaches in the fridge that he could cut up too; Bucky loves peaches. Luckily, they have all the ingredients they need and Steve whips up a batter: eggs, flour, buttermilk, a hint of vanilla. He’s pouring the batter onto the griddle, swaying a little to an Adele song, when in walks Bucky. “Mornin’, sugar,” he sing-songs, setting the bowl back down on the counter, and he gets a grumble of a huff in response. Oh, so it’s a grumpy Bucky. Steve isn’t surprised; he learned the hard way that he should never force the younger man out of bed before he wanted to face the day. He hears Bucky pour himself some coffee and when he turns to face him his heart isn’t nearly prepared for what he sees. He knows Bucky being grumpy and sleepy shouldn’t be so goddamn cute but, fuck, it’s the most adorable thing Steve’s ever been witness to. Having showered the night before and just gone to sleep, Bucky’s hair is in all sorts of disarray, his natural curls free to move the way they wish. His cheeks are flushed a rosy color, always running hot when he sleeps but insisting on using a blanket, crease marks pressed into the skin of his face and arms. He’s got that grumpy eyebrow wrinkle probably a preface to the complaint of how bright it is in the house. The cherry on top is Bucky’s attire. He’s being swallowed up by one of Steve’s old shirts, an old volleyball tournament shirt of his, and it hits Bucky right above the knees, sleeves almost hitting his elbows. It makes him look damn near miniature, much smaller than his actual six-foot size, and Steve’s gut stirs. Bucky doesn’t seem to be wearing anything but briefs either and that…that’s nice. The entire picture Bucky paints makes Steve stir in his sweats, makes him chub up almost immediately. It brings him a sense of pride and ownership and so much fucking love that it almost makes the older man short of breath. “S’that my shirt you’re wearing?” Steve asks off-handedly as he flips a pancake and Bucky makes a noise in protest, already, mumbles out, “Yeah, so what?” and it makes Steve want to chuckle. Like a feisty kitten this one is. “Nothin’, baby, nothin’. Just sexy is all,” Steve explains in a low light tone, walking up to Bucky, pressing him back into the counter with a gentle nudge. Bucky huffs again, seems to be full of them this morning, rolls his eyes some, almost goes to push at Steve’s chest before he grabs Bucky’s hand. “S’not sexy, Steve. I just woke up, shut it,” Bucky protests in a gruff voice, brings the mug up to his mouth to take a sip as Steve brings Bucky’s hand up to his mouth, runs his lips across his knuckles. Bucky wiggles where he stands, a little movement in his toes and in his knees, and Steve’s heart feels like it’s in his throat on his next swallow. “No, honey I’m for real. Seein’ your sweet little grumpy ass in my clothes is…it’s somethin’ else,” Steve rumbles, pushes Bucky a tad harder into the counter, and the younger makes a feigned offended noise at the description of him. Steve doesn’t want to let Bucky’s hand go, doesn’t want to stop touching him now that he’s started, drops the hand at his mouth to grab at Bucky’s sides instead. “M’not…I’m not grumpy,” Bucky argues and this time Steve can’t help but let out a low chuckle, chide in response, “You gonna fight me on everything this morning, sweetheart?” Steve squeezes at his hips, runs his hands over the thin fabric of his shirt on Bucky’s body, decides he can get addicted to the way it feels under his grip. This morning might turn out differently than he had originally thought. “You wanna gimme a kiss?” Steve murmurs, tilting Bucky’s chin up with the touch of two fingers and he’s so physically close to the other man that he can feel the morning moody tension leave Bucky some, yields and moves for Steve without much reservation. The kiss is brief, so soft, a breath of a thing, and all it does is make Steve hungrier, make him grow a little harder in his pants. He knows Bucky can feel it, has to be aware of it, crotch pressed into his lower stomach, his hip, sighs heavily when Steve’s tongue dips against his lip in a tease of a movement. “Just woke up, Steve come on,” Bucky gasps when he pulls back, Steve’s lips moving gracefully down Bucky’s jaw, nipping and licking as he goes, movements unrushed and syrupy. He grabs for the coffee mug in Bucky’s hands, places it on the counter behind him. With his hands free, Steve is able to move with more freedom, rubs his hands up and down Bucky’s sides, squeezing a little roughly, sliding them down to cup his ass. “Steve, the pancakes. M’hungry,” Bucky whines into his mouth and it makes Steve hot all over, that tone of voice Bucky uses when he wants to put up a fight just so it seems like he isn’t being easy. Steve just hums in response, squeezes his fingers firmly around the handfuls of ass he’s got in his palms, movement making Bucky whimper and clutch at Steve’s chest. “I’m hungry too, Buck,” he purrs into his mouth, squeezes and pulls Bucky up until the younger realizes to jump a little, delightfully moving without any physical resistance, and Steve hauls him up onto the counter. “That was awful, Steve oh my god.” Steve nips at Bucky’s ear. “It’s true though. Was hungry for pancakes before you came out here lookin’ all sweet in my own goddamn clothes. God, baby what you do to me…” Steve’s voice is low, hands still moving and squeezing wherever he can, soaking in all the little noises and breaths Bucky lets out. He loves Daddy’s hands on his body, Steve knows this, that he can get a little overwhelmed by it even, such a sensitive littler thing. Seeing Bucky in his clothes is doing things to Steve, a number of different things, but something he couldn’t have anticipated was Bucky appearing so small. Bucky isn’t a physically small man, is above average in height, but he is smaller than Steve, the older man being even more above average in overall size. Bucky in his oversized shirt, draping off his shoulders a tad, grazing the tops of his thighs, makes him look so little, makes his physical appearance show the side of him that only Daddy gets to see, show the true sweet boy he is for Steve. It makes Steve want to go feral. It also makes his next squeeze a little harsh, makes his next kiss a little deeper, makes Bucky’s hands clutch for purchase at Steve’s torso, his chest.   “I thought I was the one who was supposed to have the high sex drive as the younger one in this relationship. Sometimes this verges on ridiculous, Steve,” Bucky taunts a little breathlessly, nips at Steve’s chin when he gets the chance. What a brat. “Can’t help myself. And you’ve got some nerve complaining about how often you get fucked.” Steve nibbles at Bucky’s bottom lip in retaliation, his hands coming to rest on the smaller’s hips where he sits on the counter. For once, Bucky has nothing to say in response and that’s a goddamn miracle; Steve wants to mark the date on the calendar. He feels Bucky’s feet curl around the back of his knees, his arms coming up to also wrap around Steve’s torso, and it makes him want to purr like a goddamn cat. He pulls Steve in tight enough and it makes the older man’s erection entirely too obvious to ignore, his tented sweats rubbing a little lewdly against Bucky’s stomach, his own growing erection. Bucky feels it, the same time Steve does and lets out a loud exhale, he makes a warm noise, a purr of a thing right into Steve’s lips. “Daddy…” he coos, grins when Steve’s mouth drops open, gives his lips a few far too sensual kisses for someone who was grumbling about sex seconds before, “Is that all for me?” Steve might melt right through the goddamn floor. “A’course it is, kitten. What are you gonna do about it?” Steve asks, gives Bucky a few more filthy kisses, not bothering to close his eyes, not wanting to close his eyes. He bears witness to yet another adorable blush, one that makes Steve’s gut curl, loves how transparent Bucky is. Steve calls him a lot of things, too many things, but Bucky seems to be a sucker for “kitten”, being up there with “sugar” and “princess”. There’s a shift Steve can see in Bucky’s eyes, feel in his grip, one that has his dick perking up even more, the gleam in Bucky’s eyes having a mischievous edge to it.   “Bet I won’t need much prep because of last night…” is what he ends up whispering, attempting to make it sound casual but failing, his suggestion ending a little too breathlessly. Steve is pulling at the waistband of his sweats without wasting another second, his eagerness making Bucky giggle some more. Steve wants to eat him alive. At just the mention of being inside of Bucky, Steve’s heartrate notches up, his hands twitch at the urge to pull him closer, his dick aches and throbs. He’s reaching for a drawer that he knows has to have a tiny bottle of lube shoved in the back, always prepared, and with success he finds it and tosses it onto the counter. When Bucky sees it, he huffs, Steve needs to do something with that mouth, mumbles, “Ridiculous,” as he hops off the counter. He begins to turn but Steve grabs his hips and turns him the rest of the way around by force. “Turnin’ into the Boy Who Cried Wolf, sweetheart. Pissy about how prepared I am and how often you get dicked down, but you’re damn near gagging for it, aren’t ya?” Steve murmurs into his ear, hand reaching around to cup the stiff erection contained in his briefs, Bucky gasping at the contact. Steve rolls the younger’s package around in his hand, squeezes and tugs on what he can, kisses at Bucky’s cheek as he lets out a low moan. “Just a spoiled fuckin’ brat is what you are,” Steve continues to taunt in a light tone, voice low as he moves to slowly peel Bucky’s briefs down his lithe thighs, dropping to pool around his ankles. Bucky goes to take his shirt off, but he stops him, whispers, “No—keep it on,”, his hand running up and under the shirt, up the soft skin of Bucky’s stomach. Bucky nods his head, exhaling shakily. There’s something about a weekend morning fuck that digs deep into Steve’s bones. The unhurried pace, no place to be and no rush, the serene quietness that fills the house and the neighborhood. There’s something about greeting the day and your partner in such an intimate way, almost ethereal, movements slow and savory, simply feeling the other person and the way they make you feel, the reactions to the way you make them feel. Steve loves it, needs it, can never get enough of it when it comes to Bucky, kisses him on the back of the neck as he wets a few fingers with lube, lifts his own shirt on Bucky’s body, and— “Oh,” Bucky sighs and Steve feels that noise in his core, in his center, that noise like Bucky is finally right because Steve is inside of him, like he isn’t whole until Steve is there pressing within. He can’t think to say anything, his tongue heavy in his mouth, just kisses the piece of Bucky’s shoulder that peeks out of the coverage of his shirt. His finger is met with not near as much resistance as it normally is, Steve able to press in with another finger within a few pumps of the first. This second one makes Bucky gasp a little, makes him whine, and it’s so goddamn beautiful to Steve’s ears that he can’t help but make a pleased noise of his own, a little sympathetic moan that he lets out into the skin behind Bucky’s ear. “Daddy…” Steve’s gut clenches. “Yeah, sugar s’feel good?” “Ngh, I…gimme a-another. Please?” Their voices are so low, hushed for no reason but it simply being that morning kind of vibe. Bucky’s eager, a little too, and Steve pumps his fingers a few times, curls them a little bit, finds that sweet little spot they’re both looking for, force of it making Bucky fall forward some, brace his hands on the edge od the counter. “Just greedy, baby. There’s no rush,” he whispers, his other hand coming around to give its best attempt at jacking Bucky off slowly. Bucky lets out such a long and low moan Steve swears he can feel it in his own teeth. “Fuck, Steve holy shit, feels so good,” Bucky whimpers with another moan, head falling back some which gives Steve easy access to run his lips along the line of Bucky’s neck. “So sensitive in the morning aren’t you, Bucky? Sensitive all the time but in the mornings especially, always have been.” Bucky has nothing to say in response to that, just bites his bottom lip and arches his neck into Steve’s mouth some, clenches down on Daddy’s fingers. “Alright, alright hush, sugar.” Steve gives Bucky the third finger he wants, pumps his other hand around the brunette’s cock and if he wasn’t right before, he’s right now—Bucky is damn near gagging for it. The third finger gives him the pressure and the fullness he craves, gives him the closest thing he can get to Daddy’s cock, makes his mouth drop open some and Steve can’t help but kiss and coo on Bucky’s cheek. His movements are deep and slow and delicious and he can only fathom to work his fingers a few more times, in and out, before removing them and smearing what is left of the lube onto his cock. Steve is moaning before he’s even entirely slid inside of Bucky, can’t help it when he’s so wrapped up in the feeling of the younger man in his arms, of how hot and wet he is around Daddy’s cock, of how pretty he sounds when Steve slides home. An arm around Bucky’s waist, one tucked under and arm and across his chest, it’s achingly intimate, so close, perfect for a slow morning fuck. Bucky arches back into him beautifully, feels so good against the line of Steve’s body, feels so small, just the way he looks in Daddy’s shirt. “Ohh, fuck that’s nice, baby so nice,” he coos gently into Bucky’s ear as his crotch comes to press snug up against Bucky’s bottom, that sweet little cushion that in engrained in Steve’s brain for the rest of time. Bucky gives him a weak moan in response, a few heavy exhales to follow, lets his neck go a little lax as it rolls back into Steve’s shoulder. He knows Bucky wants to grab onto something, knows he likes to hold and feel grounded, so Steve grabs his hands, presses them into the counter in front of them. Bucky’s a gift, a treasure, no other way to describe him when at a loss for words like this. His body was made for Steve, he’d bet his life and soul on it, has never felt anything like being inside of Bucky. He fits so perfectly against Steve’s body, so soft and supple against his harder and muscled one, feels sublime all around his cock, all warm and tight as sin. He rolls his hips in tight, slow, little movements, grinds and presses in balls-deep, Bucky whimpering softly at the feel. Steve takes it slow, let’s the feel of the morning take them away, lets the music in the background unintentionally sway his movements. He pulls out slowly, presses those hot open-mouthed kisses he knows make Bucky weak all along his neck, up to his ear, wraps an arm back tight around Bucky’s middle. “Oh shit,” is all he can choke out in response to Steve’s movements and that’s totally okay with Steve, is acceptable, presses back in just as slow and fuck that’s nice, that’s beautiful. He does this a few more times, keeps his mouth close to Bucky’s face, keeps the line of his body pressed in tight, movement only being in his hips. He feels like he’s high, like he’s hypnotized, is only pulled from his mind when Bucky whimpers, “More, Daddy more,” and he nods his head, brings his arm up to curl his hand loosely around the base of Bucky’s throat. “Yeah, baby yeah, of course,” he coos out, picks up his pace and pumps his hips a little harder, movement making Bucky lock his elbows for more support, forcing the two of them let out little noises of their own. “Always feel so fuckin’ good for Daddy don’t you, sugar? Yeah? So fuckin’ ready, so fuckin’ hungry aren’t you?” “God, Daddy. Shouldn’t feel so good but it does. Why…fuck, why does it feel so good all the fucking time?” Good fucking question. Like almost every other attempt at talking this morning, Steve isn’t sure what to say back, feels like that’s more of a rhetorical question when he can’t think of a valid answer to begin with. Instead he continues to fuck into Bucky’s body, the body that feels so small in his hands, pumps his hips harder and deeper than before. The little noises that seem to be inadvertently let out by Bucky are so fragile, so full of emotion, so delicate that it makes his grip on the younger man a little tighter, wants to ensure he’s safe and protected. Bucky moves to arch his back, a small movements with a large payoff, lets out a high-pitched whine after a heave of a gasp that Steve feels under his palm. He knows what that gasp means, knows what that change of angle has to be doing for him and it makes him want to do it more, makes him want to hit Bucky’s sweet spot over and over again, wants to send him soaring. He winds his other arm tight around Bucky’s slim waist, under his shirt, keeps the other hand curled about his neck, and Bucky sobs, that little overwhelmed noise. “Steve,” he mewls and fuck he loves that, loves how Bucky sounds saying his name, it making him fuck harder, deeper. He purses his lips at the hinge of Bucky’s jaw. “Yeah, sugar,” he breathes, not really a question but an acknowledgement, lets himself groan heartily on the next exhale. “I’m gonna come.” It makes Steve groan again, makes him thrust harder, the slow pointed sound of skin slapping skin merging with the noises of a Saturday morning. He isn’t surprised it’s taken such a short amount of time for Bucky to reach the point of climax; he’s such a sensitive thing when he wakes up. “Yeah?” “Uh-huh, yeah, you’re gonna make me…god, gonna make me come, Daddy.” Fuck yeah. Steve might say it out loud, he isn’t quite sure, but he is damn sure his vision and focus narrow in on those words, make it all Steve wants, wants Bucky’s pleasure more than his own quickly approaching orgasm. The hand under his shirt (still swallowing up Bucky’s body, fuck) reaches up, finds one of those perfect little nipples, pinches it softly at first, then with a little more bite to it. The younger lets out his loudest noise this morning, a shout of a moan, so good. Bucky loves having his nipples played with, always has. It makes his knees buckle a little which then has Steve holding onto him as Bucky’s hands come up to grab onto Daddy’s head, hands in his hair.   “Yes, god j-just…uh-huh, yeah,” Bucky cries, finally passed the point of formulating words. Steve turns, sucks Bucky’s earlobe into his mouth, lets out a hearty groan at the feeling of hands in his hair, of that little bit of pain of Bucky getting carried away and not realizing it. He moves his fingers to the other nipple, twists the first before he leaves, gives the second the same treatment. His eyelids drop, a side effect of Bucky’s sweet little cunt eating him up, trying to keep him inside, so tight and so goddamn good. “You want me to touch that pretty cock? You want Daddy’s help, baby?” The way his own voice sounds to his ears makes him realize he’s close himself, a little frantic and a lot breathy. Bucky makes a pitiful noise, shakes his head and lets out another hefty moan, much louder than the last. The hands in Steve’s hair go taut, he hears a tiny, “No, I-I’m gonna come, oh Daddy, I’m gonna—” He feels it before anything else, feels that clench on his cock, feels that heave expand Bucky’s chest beneath his grip. He fucks in a little deeper, jars Bucky’s body forward with the force, grinds in tight on that perfect angle and Bucky’s coming and it’s so beautiful, always is. His little legs tremble at the force of his climax, said tremble running up his torso, and Steve can feel it, that’s his favorite part—when he can feel Bucky’s orgasm. His voice is so low, feeling so much, he bites out every syllable onto the side of Bucky’s slack face. “Fuck, sugar that’s so pretty, look at that, god you’re gonna make me come, that sweet little cunt squeezin’ and milkin’ me, oh shit—” He can’t hold Bucky close enough when his orgasm quite literally crashes through his body. It’s low and tight and he feels it everywhere, makes him dip his knees a little and take Bucky with him only to press back up firmly, lean forward and put a hand on the counter to hold them both up. His own torso trembles alongside Bucky’s, just like his own noises of pleasure are spouted from his mouth, groans mixing with whimpers. It’s the perfect way to start a morning. Steve finds his nose digging into Bucky’s hair, breathing him in, snuggling the other man there on his feet. Bucky reaches forward with both of his hands, takes them out of Steve’s hair and moves to place one of his smaller hands on top of Steve’s own. He can’t stop looking at it, the gesture, the two of them together, intertwined in a plethora of ways, but so very easily. It’s so easy loving this man. An uncomfortable grumble rips Steve out of his thoughts. “Don’t tell me you’re already grumblin’, Buck.” “No, no,” he starts to chuckle, moves his head in the movement to look down, “This just isn’t how I pictured this morning going. It’s…it’s nice.” Steve purrs, squeezes his arm tight around Bucky’s waist, kisses him loudly on the cheek. “Mmm, is nice. Too bad breakfast is ruined.” Steve has been smelling the burnt pancake for quite some time now, is honestly concerned about whether or not his smoke alarms work. “How about we go back to bed since you wore me out and then we go to lunch?” Steve smirks. What else are weekends for? “Sounds like a plan, sugar bear.”

Hope you loved. ILY. 💗