#as many as bucky want it's okay it's fine

[sabspoetic]

Help his reaction is so cuteee😻😻😻

“... yeah, I think Bucky could be a great dad.”

[buckyalpine]

His Winter Flower

Modern Beauty and the Beast AU Winter soldier x f reader

Long awaited, I hope you all enjoy it as well.

Word count: 8.9k

Warnings: 18 + Angst, injuries, Fluff, All the sweet smut, Bucky is a sweetheart

"оставаться внизу" [Stay down] The soldier ordered, holding his gun to the targets forehead, his metal finger twitching against the trigger while the man cowered in front of him.

"Please" The man tried to plead but it was no use. He knew his fate was sealed the second he heard the thud of the boots entering his home. The whirring of metal. The ghost people spoke of but never saw until it was too late.

"тишина" [Silence] The soldiers rough voice growled behind the mask that covered his face. He pressed the barrel further into the man's head, freezing when he heard the soft patter of footsteps nearing the office he had broken into.

"Papa?" A soft voice called, the scent of roses and vanilla accompanying it, "Papa, where are y-

You gasped as you entered your father's study, your heart dropping to your stomach seeing him kneeling on the floor with his hands tied while the soldier towered above him.

So the rumors were true.

The silver of his arm was illuminated in the moonlight, the rest of him covered in Kevlar and black leather. Weapons were strapped to every bit of his body but the only one that worried you now was the one that was about to take your father's life.

"Don't hurt him!" It was a futile attempt to save your father, you knew this enough. The Winter Soldier didn't spare anyone, in fact for the longest time you wondered if he was nothing more than an urban legend. No one had actually seen him. Those that did didn't live to speak the tale. The soldier grunted in response, hardly sparing you a glance as he stared at the man before him.

A professor. A brilliant man. One who was quietly working with a group of researchers aiming to destroy the the longtime work of Arnim Zola from so many years ago. No more serums. No more soldiers.

Hydra wouldn't have that.

Not when those very serums created their best asset, the Winter Soldier himself.

"Он моя миссия" [He is my mission] Was the only response you were given. You didn't understand the words he said but it didn't matter; it was quite clear. He didn't intend on sparing the professor.

"Darling, please go, it's okay" Your father shook his head, ready to accept the consequences of his choices. He hoped to aid in the movement of making the world safer and if this was his end, he was prepared to meet it. Tears welled in his eyes with a sad smile on his face, "It'll be alright, go, hurry-

"No, please!" You pleaded with the soldier once again, all you could see were his blue eyes, void of emotion, cold and icy. "If-if you kill him, someone will take his place and then another. My father will no longer help with the government if you spare him and take me. Please just take me instead, it will put an end to all this. Please"

If you kill him, someone will take his place

The words rang through the soldiers mind.

It shouldn't be a problem. He'd killed plenty of people before but...

Then it would be another mission to carry.

And then another.

Another.

The innocent man trapped in his brain screamed to stop. A voice long forgotten, begging him to reconsider. To fight against the words that were causing him to do this. The solider flinched, fighting within himself, contemplating his next actions. The mission was to ensure Arnim Zola's work wouldn't be eradicated. The girl was offering herself to ensure the same work wouldn't continue. He wouldn't have more blood on his hands if he allowed the professor to live.

He shouldn't have cared but a part of him did.

He didn't want to kill another innocent man.

He never wanted to kill anyone.

Your father let out a sigh of relief feeling the weight of the gun pull away, only to have his greatest fear come alive; losing you.

"NO, darling you don't know what you're doing, I'll be fine-

It was too late. The soldier cut through the ropes that bound your father's wrists, taking you instead. Before your father could reach for you, the soldier grabbed and hauled you over his shoulder and strode away, ignoring the plea of the professor to spare his only daughter.

His mind was made up.

She was not his mission but now he had a new one.

If he killed the man, another would take his place.

He was risking repercussions listening to the trapped soul only his mind could hear.

He shouldn't have listened to her words.

He shouldn't have let the professor go.

Yet he agreed.

The gait of the soldier lulled you into a dreamless sleep; exhaustion consumed you as he wandered through a thicket of trees and into the woods far from home. You hadn't spoken a word nor let out a cry as he carried you off, after all, you agreed to be his prisoner as long as you father lived.

-

He brought you to a place he knew no one would find.

A place no one else knew of.

A place that was now his own.

He was once sent to take the life of a wealthy aristocrat, a man who had no one to leave his estate to. The place was deep in a forest, away from most of humanity; even when Hydra had sent him to finish the man, they were unable to give him a location. The soldier had located the target himself only to find the man had already passed from old age.

No questions were asked.

The mission was considered complete.

The body was disposed of and for quite some time, the soldier thought nothing of the castle like place that no one else knew of. It was a secret only he knew and he soon found himself seeking its solitude. A resting place between missions. A place to patch up. A place to hide when his mind was too loud, trying to escape from clutches he didn't understand.

It was the closest place he had to freedom.

The soldier pushed through the heavy wooden doors, entering the dark oak foyer. He stilled, torn between taking you down to the cellar or taking you to the rooms up in the master wing.

How could he chain something so soft.

How could he imprison something so delicate.

His feet began to move towards the large staircase before his mind could process anything, shifting to carry you in his arms as he made his way up to the west wing. He set you down gently onto the large bed with the soft sheets, careful not to stir you. He stared at your sleeping form, unmoving from his place as you softly snored, the choices of his actions beginning to plague his mind.

What was he to do with you now. Why hadn't he gotten rid of you.

He knew the rules; once his job was done, he was to return to the base but he hadn't completed the mission. He had been away for weeks and the longer he was away, the louder the screaming was. The voice of a young sergeant who fought bravely in the war. The pleading young man, scared like a child, trapped in the body of a killing machine. The cries of a little boy trying so hard to runaway from monsters that haunted him every single night. All trapped and begging to escape.

He'd let the professor live.

It was wrong of him.

He disobeyed his orders.

Or perhaps it was the right thing to do.

Though the soldier had been brainwashed, there were times he found himself caught in-between a state of control and chaos. His duties were to Hydra. He knew this was wrong. You shouldn't be here. His task was to continue their vision. He was their asset. He belonged to them.

His tourmiol continued. Why did he spare the professor. Why did he bring the girl and set her down on the softest bed out of all the rooms when he should have chained her in a cell. Exhaustion began to weigh on him but he didn't close his eyes. He didn't allow sleep to consume him. The soldier remained in place even as the sun rose. He watched as you stirred, soft sunlight streaming through the curtains, falling onto your face.

-

You blinked, rubbing sleep from your eyes, a fearful gasp escaping your lips when you saw him sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room. A thousand thoughts began to run through your mind at once as you sat up, a part of you surprised to find your hands and legs free from binds. You were atop a plush mattress on a large bed, the room itself surprisingly warm and quaint. Had you not been in a state of terror, you would have taken some time to appreciate the olive green walls and fine paintings that decorated the space as well as the well kept antique furniture.

"Please don't hurt me" You whispered, still disoriented from the night before.

"я не буду" [I won't] He replied, aware you didn't understand him. His lips twitched, all the words of English he wanted to speak dying in his mouth. His mind wouldn't allow it.

It wasn't required for this mission.

You stayed frozen in place while he said nothing else, walking off and closing the door behind him. Tears welled in your eyes as dread began to set in. This was your life now. He could kill you at any moment without warning. In fact, you didn't understand why he hadn't. From the rumours, you knew the soldier never took prisoners. You didn't know why you were spared; the only sliver of joy you had was that your father was alive. You thought about your him as you gathered yourself out of bed, deciding to make the best of your circumstances with the faintest hope that one day you'd be reunited with him again.

You inspected the room the soldier had put you in. There was a vanity across the bed. A walk in closet that only contained a few old sheets. You gasped as you entered the en suite bathroom, white marble tiles covering the floor, a large clawfoot tub, brass and gold accents decorated the handles of the cupboards.

The room was enchanting.

After splashing some water onto your face, you crept into the hallway, padding down to the staircase, surprised again at the beauty of the place. High ceilings. Dark wood. Crystal albeit dusty chandeliers. French doors. Original paintings. It was the type of place you'd imagine when you read fairytales. It would have been the type of place you'd dream to live in; one you'd only imagine in your wildest fantasies where the princess finds her prince. Such stories were only found in books.

You quietly explored the main floor of the mansion and avoiding the rooms which were locked shut. You didn't dare touch a thing, quickly retreating back to your room once you'd seen everything, familiarizing yourself with it's layout. The kitchen. A study. A living room. The hauntinly beautiful hallways. A door to the grounds in the back. You hadn't seen the soldier which both relieved and scared you.

Where did he disappear to?

That night, there was a knock at your door and when you opened it, a plate of warm food was left on a tray. Boiled carrots. Potatoes. A dinner roll. You hadn't even heard his footsteps down the hall. As you peered out of your room, it was empty without the slightest hint that anyone had been there seconds ago.

Where had he gone?

You hadn't realized how hungry you were until you took the first bite, scarfing down the rest in haste, placing the tray back in the hall. The next day was the same. You woke up to find a simple spread of breakfast outside of your room; toast and jam.

The soldier was a man of his word; if you were to be his captive, he had to keep you alive.

At least until he knew what to do with you...

Days had passed and you'd managed to avoid him, keeping to yourself and staying out of his way but you weren't able to avoid him forever.

-

The soldier had already heard you coming, pausing his cleaning as he waited for you to enter. The sight of your trembling form evoked something inside him.

You were scared. He didn't like it.

His mask remained on his face while his blue eyes peered at you, waiting for you to speak.

"I-I need clothes" Your voice was hardly a whisper, body shaking as you approached him, finding him in the study room, parts of his gun in hand. There was nothing wrong with the simple cotton dress you had on though it certainly wasn't comfortable to sleep in every night and you weren't able to wash and it dry within the same day. You needed at least one other set of something to wear. "Please"

He nodded without a word, resuming his cleaning while you retreated to your room. His brows furrowed as he thought about what you'd need. Perhaps it would be easier to return you and finish off the professor or get rid of you both-

No.

No.

He didn't want more blood on his hands.

The foods he stole were already a risk....where would he go for clothes?

-

The next morning, you found a fresh set of clothes left beside your tray of breakfast. You lifted the pile and brought it to your room, munching on the toast that had come with honey instead of jam for a change.

There was a red Henley and some sweatpants. A black t shirt and joggers. A few other basics for you to wear comfortably around the house. You couldn't help but giggle at the very large leather jacket he'd also left in case you felt cold even though there were already plenty of warm blankets. They were very clearly his own clothes but they were all washed and perfectly clean. You couldn't expect him to go shopping for you.

You threw off your dress, taking a long bath before drying off and slipping on the Henley and sweats. They were warm and soft, fitting loosely on your smaller frame, his soft scent of something distinctly him clinging onto the material. It was strange that it didn't bother you. Quite the opposite. It was pleasant, almost comforting.

You wondered about the man behind the mask and who he was. Such a dangerous man who was giving you the clothes off his back, feeding you and keeping you alive even though he'd killed hundreds of others. He was dangerous and yet he looked at you with such softness, you couldn't understand how he'd be capable of hurting anyone.

What was his story?

He hadn't chained you to the bed.

He hadn't locked you in your room.

You were free to go about where you liked.

Surely he wasn't all evil?

As you grew more accustomed to your living arrangement, you decided to inspect more of the kitchen. You hadn't been told you couldn't cook; even if the soldier didn't kill you, boredom eventually would. You needed something to pass the time and he had disappeared yet again.

You opened the fridge and pantries surprised to find a few fruits and vegetables stocked up. An untouched sack of flour and bag of sugar sat at the bottom of the shelves. Who knew the winter soldier enjoyed plums so much? There were a few pots and pans as well as basic kitchen utensils. You didn't need much to make a simple meal, careful not to make a mess as you began to peel some carrots.

-

The soldier blinked as he entered the house, the smell of food wafting throughout, a smell he hadn't come across in a long time.

Home.

There was a pot of stew left on the stove along with a pie left to cool on the counter. His eyes widened at the way his stomach grumbled; it had been years since he'd truly felt hunger. He ate for sustenance. Raw, uncooked, at most boiled food to keep him going. When he was with Hydra, he was fed with a tube.

Just basic nutrients to keep him alive.

He hadn't had a home cooked meal in years.

-

You woke up the next morning to find a pastry at your door instead of toast. When you wandered into the kitchen, you smiled at the tiny crumbs left pie tin and the now empty pot of stew. There were also newly stocked ingredients waiting for you; berries, potatoes, somehow even a whole chicken. You got to work, deciding to try something new each time; each night a warm meal awaited the soldier along with something sweet at the end.

He continued to bring you breakfast but there were only so many different pastries and cakes he could nick, besides they didn't compare to yours.

It wasn't enough. The soldier frowned at the strange feelings he had within himself.

He wanted to do something for you.

He wasn't sure what. He smuggled a handful of cookies you'd baked that morning into his room before removing his mask and savoring each once. He didn't leave a crumb behind, licking the remnants of chocolate off his lips while his mind wandered. You didn't have to cook for him. In fact you had every right to try and escape from him but you never did. He recalled the number of bookshelves that lined your home, after all he'd taken note of every detail as part of his mission.

You liked to read.

-

You sat up when you heard a knock at your door, the soldier waiting on the other side. He looked at you with a softness you hadn't seen previously, turning around and walking down the hall, hoping you'd follow him.

You stayed a few feet behind, trailing after him as he led you to the living room, leading you to the large bookshelf. He wordlessly stood by it, the strange sensation of nervousness and anxiety bubbling within him when you looked at what he wanted to show you.

Would you like it? You looked so unsure, scared. Perhaps you wanted to be free, you wanted to leave, you-

"M-May I?"

He blinked hearing your voice, nodding, watching your eyes light up as you scanned the various book titles. Gasps of joy and little squeals of delight escaped your lips as you came across stories you adored.

That wasn't the only thing that made his heart beat faster. Seeing you in his clothes stirred something in him. You were dressed in his red Henley, the hem reaching mid thigh. He was pulled away from admiring you as you squeaked, seeing one of your favorite books from when you were a little girl, a first edition no less.

"How did you get all these" You were in absolute awe, lost in your own world while he pondered how he came to own such treasures. Perhaps he was always a soldier gone rogue. His missions came with a side of thievery when he'd see something that would catch his eye. Something that would spark a memory of sorts, such as an old book he'd seen as he passed an vintage bookstore. Soon, the shelves of the mansion were filled with books and trinkets he'd collected. A part of his brain would nearly break itself to try and connect to the things he'd collect, only for the memories to fail to fall into place.

His mind felt like a pile of shreds from different cloths; pieces that would never fit together again. His little treasures were the closest he'd ever get to remembering, a few sparks from the past that would forever be disconnected.

-

Ever since the soldier had shown you the shelves of books, you'd left your room more often, spending more time reading after cooking. In a strange way you also began to trust the very masked man who had taken you away. You didn't worry about him hurting you. You no longer worried about running into him. He hardly spoke, nothing more than a few words of Russian. He hadn't demanded you stay locked in your room, so why did you?

You picked up one of your favorite books, deciding to read outside in the garden, in need of some fresh air. You hadn't taken much time to look at the outside of the house, pausing as you opened the doors that entered the grounds. It was strangely beautiful, especially considering the assassin who resided in it. For such a dark soul, nature still continued to flourish around it. Tall, overgrown hedge fences surrounded the backyard while weeping willows and bushes of flowers shaded the stone paths that led to a fountain in the very center. You found a comfortable spot under the tree, settling onto the cool grass, the scent of spring calming you as you turned to the first page.

-

The soldier trudged through the doorway, surprised at the way his appetite had grown since you'd started cooking. His body which was used to sustaining itself on the bare minimum now rumbled through the day. He'd find his mind wandering to your pies and craving the comfort of the soup you'd make. The food was set in the kitchen but you were nowhere to be found. He walked past your room, knocking on the door, only to be met with silence.

Where did you go? Did you run away?

He knew something was wrong when he felt his heart sink because he couldn't find you. He couldn't remember the last time his heart felt anything other than emptiness. It was more than just you escaping.

He was worried about you.

He took longer strides as he searched for you with purpose, fingers already itching to reach towards his gun, deciding to first check the grounds in the back. His heart settled when he saw the doors to the garden left ajar, finding you nestled in the shade, curled up in the grass with a book.

You were safe. You hadn't run away.

Again he was left stunned and unable to move. You were the final piece in the puzzle of the garden; you fit there like the perfect flower. He'd seen the garden 100 times before and it had never looked so beautiful.

Not until now.

Roses and daisies grew in abundance but you were the prettiest thing there. You were meant to be there; a soft, delicate, flower.

"цветок"

You set down the book you were reading, looking up to see the soldier peering down at you. You hadn't heard him coming as he appeared before you with the silence of a ghost.

"цветок" He repeated, gazing at you before looking towards a daisy. He kneeled, plucking one and handing it to you, "цветок. мягкий, как ты" [Flower. Soft, like you]. You felt your cheeks heat up as he looked at you intently, blinking with an innocence you hadn't seen before. He looked almost...shy?

"Thank you" You whispered, stroking the petal of the flower he gave you. You didn't understand why you longed for him to stay as he went back inside, your curiosity about him growing with each passing day.

It went on like this.

Most days, you would spend your time exploring the trinkets the soldier collected, staying out of his way while he disappeared into the forest to do things you didn't pry into. Each night you knew he would return, hearing the heavy creak of the doors open during the darkest hours. You'd hear the quiet sound of clinking cutlery and then the soft sound of his bedroom door shut.

Except tonight.

You set down your book hearing the sound of heavy boots dragging down the hall, quite different from the silence the soldier usually moved with. A sense of dread washed over you as you debated on staying put, something telling you to lock the door, hide, something-

"What do we have here" The click of your door opening sent shivers down your spine, your blood running cold as a man strode in, a metal mask covering his face showing nothing but his eyes. You wanted to scream but your voice was stuck in your throat, you felt safe with the soldier, this man was not the same, he lunged towards you, knife in hand, the blade swiping towards your neck, "The soldiers little pet"-

"DON'T TOUCH HER" A growl shook the window as you hugged your knees to yourself waiting for the knife to plunge but it never came. You gasped as the man was ripped away, the flash of silver gleaming as the soldier grabbed him and hauled him away, shutting the door behind him.

"You're weak. You were supposed to kill him"

"So this is what's been keeping you"

"Kill her and come back to us. That's an order"

"Rumlow-

"Kill her. They're nothing more than collateral damage, end them, желание-

You didn't dare move, tears spilling down your cheeks as you heard the sounds of a struggle growing further and further away, eventually melting into silence.

He saved you.

You heard him return, still frozen in fear but the sound of a pained whimper pulled you out of bed. You peered into the hall, eyes widening in horror seeing a trail of blood staining the floors leading to his room, streaks of crimson smeared onto the wall. You didn't think twice as you dashed out of your room to his, your body moving faster than your mind could comprehend as you let yourself in.

Your heart continued to race seeing the blood lead to the washroom where he stood with a needle in hand, beginning to sew a gash on his side across his ribs. His bloodied tactical gear was thrown on the floor though his mask still remained hoping to silence himself as he attempted to take care of himself.

He hissed in pain, piercing his skin while his head began to spin, multiple wounds needing attention, the blood loss starting to take its toll.

"Let me" you hesitated to touch him, going against your better judgement when you wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling his hand away. The soldier shook his head, fighting the way his body craved for something more gentle, more caring, more loving than the jagged and painful stitches he was giving himself.

"I won't hurt you, soldat" you looked in his eyes with such sincerity, for a moment he thought he'd ask you to be his girl.

Such a doll...

One he'd take dancing...

Call you darlin' with that Brooklyn drawl...

He blinked at the fleeting memory, a whimper escaping his lips when you dabbed his gash with an alcohol soaked cotton ball. You blew across the cut to soothe the pain before taking the needle and carefully stitching him up with a feather light touch.

"There" You whispered after taking care of the awful injuries that littered his body, leading out of the bathroom to lie down so he could rest. You didn't dare ask what had happened as you looked around the room; though there was a large bed with the softest sheets and finest materials but the makeshift pallet on the floor was clearly where he chose to sleep at night. He collapsed from exhaustion, falling into a deep sleep while you remained by his side.

You watched the rise and fall of his chest, occasionally glancing over the dressings you'd put to see if blood had seeped through. You couldn't bring yourself to leave him alone, only getting up to see if you could find a sheet to drape cover yourself with in the cold room. As you removed the blanket that covered the bed, something caught your eye in the mostly untouched room.

A wooden box, carefully tucked away in the furthest corner of the room. There wasn't any dust on it, compared to the other pieces of furniture that were never used. It was something he very clearly wanted to keep a secret. His other treasures that were out in the open on the shelf were different from this.

Even the soldier had secrets.

Your curiosity got the best of you as you made your way to the corner, lifting the box as silently as you could so you didn't wake him, inspecting its contents.

Newspaper articles, some decades old.

Old photographs.

One of a young man.

The eyes.

Those blue eyes you'd become so familiar with.

James Buchanan Barnes.

A brave soldier who fought in the war. A young man, no, a boy, drafted to war, his life ripped away from him, leaving him for dead in an icy forest. You blinked back tears at the innocence the young Sergeants eyes held, bright and heroic, hoping to help in a fight that wasn't his. Scribbles on scrap pieces of paper read "I am James Buchanan Barnes" repeatedly.

Your could feel your heart break into tiny little fragments as you pieced together what happened to the boy from Brooklyn, he had his whole life ahead of him but-

A pained scream tore from his lungs, his eyes squeezed shut as you knelt by his side again, brows furrowed together. You looked over his injuries, everything was still in place but he sounded like he was being tortured. He tossed around, his screams melting into sobs, pleading for someone to stop.

"James?" You hesitated to use his real name, your hushed voice made him flinch in his sleep but it wasn't enough to pull him as he begged for the painto end. He didn't want to lose his memories again. He wanted to remember. Please?

"You're alright James" You cooed softly, running your fingers through his locks while tears continued to stream down his face, lost in a nightmare. "You're not alone"

You were careful not to scared him awake, your gentle ministrations soothing him, his cries coming to a stop. You wiped away the remnants of tears that fell against his cheek, some slipping beneath the mask he refused to remove. You didn't have in you to take it off, not without asking him first. His soft snores filled the room once again as the sun began to rise.

-

He stirred feeling a strange warmth surrounding his body blinking in confusion when he found soft sheets draped over him. The usual sting he'd feel after stitching himself up was nearly non existent. He ran his fingers along the gash, the neat little sutures still in place, covered with a bandage to protect the area. Bits and pieces of the night came to him in waves.

Running into his captors. Evading them. Escaping. The bloodshed. The weapons. The injuries. The pain.

However, there was also softness. Such tenderness. The touch of an angel he'd only be able to imagine in his wildest dreams that would never come true. Not for someone like him. Such sweetness. God, he'd missed it. He missed what such love and care felt like. It was so foreign to him. He was so used to the cold. Razor sharp, jagged edges. He'd forgotten so many things but the longer he kept to himself, the more that came back to him.

You called him by his name. He was sure of it. In the muddled fog of nightmares, he was sure he heard an angel call.

He knew he was in no condition to move or get you breakfast but the delicious smell of your cooking wafted through the halls letting him know it was okay for him to rest. He closed his eyes, flinching at the few prickles of pain he felt in his head.

You were there.

You'd take care of him.

He couldn't remember everything just yet but surely the puzzle pieces would fall into place soon.

-

"NO" The sound of the soldiers pained cry made you drop the book you were reading in your room, running off to find him. He'd fallen asleep after eating what you made for him that evening; you were sure he was getting better. He knelt on the floor, sweat covering his body as he gripped his hair, pulling from the roots. He felt another sharp piercing pain in his head, fleeting memories of things he didn't understand all flooding back at once.

You rushed to his side, taking his hands into yours to keep him from hurting himself. His eyes shot up, tears threatening to spill over, all the things he thought were lost forever coming back together.

He was a Sergeant.

A soldier.

A young man.

One who loved to go dancing.

One who wanted to help others.

Hydra turned him into a beast but you brought him back.

There was always something about you.

His sweet flower.

He relaxed feeling your soft fingers trace against his palms in hopes of grounding him, giving both his flesh and metal hands equal affection. He gently pulled his right hand away to remove the mask, letting you see all of him.

"Soldat?" You whispered, hesitantly brining your hand up to his scruffy cheek. He pressed his hand against yours, leaning into the warmth of your touch, he never wanted it to end.

"цветок" [flower] he whispered back, your eyes widening hearing the precious name he had just for you, "It's me, flower"

"James?" You knew it was no longer the soldier speaking, this was the little boy from Brooklyn, his piercing blue eyes now full of warmth and light.

"Your father, I have to take you home, flower I'm so sorry-" dread began to consume him as he realized how long he'd taken you for, trading one life for another, how could he-

"James, breathe" You held his face in your hands, wiping away the tears that began to fall, your hand coming down the rest against his erratic heart, "It wasn't your fault, I-I read what happened to you, you were taken, it was never you, you're a good person" You soothed his aching heart but it didn't ease how heavy it felt. Every part of him wanted to beg for you to run away, so far away from him so you could be home again yet his arms moved on their own, wrapping you up and holding you close, you fit so perfectly with him.

"I'm still a broken man, цветок" Bucky whispered with a sad smile, holding you with such care as you curled up in his lap. "I don't think I deserve to hold something as sweet as you"

"You're not broken, you deserve this and more" You cooed, inhaling his soft scent, your nose brushing against the column of his neck.

"You took care of me, flower" Bucky held you tighter, hiding his face into the crook of your neck, feeling safe for the first time in years, home had never felt closer.

"And you took care of me" Your fingers moved to card through his hair, pulling his face away so he'd look at you.

"I took you with me, doll" He couldn't shake the fact that he'd taken you from your father, first intending to kill him and then taking you in his place. "I didn't give you a choice, you should be home" The guilt ate him from the inside, if he'd been himself, he would have never-

"And you still protected me with your life" You whispered, your forehead resting against his.

"And I always will" Bucky promised, his lips brushing against yours. He meant it from the bottom of his soul, he'd always protect you no matter where you were. It didn't matter that he didn't want you to leave, that he wished you could stay, he knew you belonged elsewhere. He'd still always make sure you were safe. Exhaustion began to pull at him, his eyes growing heavy as his body continued to fight what Hydra wanted him to do and the man he really was.

"Sleep, Jamie" You pulled him down to lay on your chest, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead and for the first time in years, he slept soundly without a nightmare.

Over the next few days, you continued to nurse the soldier back to health, hushing him each time he plead for you to go, insisting he'd be okay to manage on his own.

"My body will heal, I promise, you don't have to do all this for me, let me take you home-

"Once you're all better. I'll write to him so he knows I'm safe" You pressed a finger to his pink lips before going back to tucking him in bed. It was true that the cuts had all cleared up exceptionally quicker than normal but you could see the mental exhaustion that plagued him each day.

He found a way to get in touch with your father without alerting anyone in Hydra from finding him and while your father graciously forgave him with understanding, nothing felt easier. He promised to return you home as soon as it was safe but the longer he spent with you, the more he selfishly wished for it to last forever. He promised your father he'd take care of you in every way possible but he knew it was truly you taking care of him.

He'd sleep soundly when you were near, falling asleep quickly when you'd read to him, sometimes softly playing with his hair so he'd relax. The few times he'd been alone, the awful memories would come flooding back leaving him confused and disoriented. It broke your heart hearing him cry, the soldier who was nothing but a killing machine truly an innocent man on the inside, a prisoner of his own mind.

You'd comfort him every single time, every moment more intimate than the next. It started with your soothing voice, sitting by his bed where you'd call his name, your fingers caressing the scruff of his beard, wiping away his tears. Then the nights came where you crawled into bed with him, helping him fall asleep with his head on your lap only to wake up with your limbs tangled together.

Then he started to hold you before he was asleep. He held you tightly while telling you stories about things he could remember. Things that made him smile. That his nickname was Bucky. You would do the same. You told him about all the things your father taught you. He'd start to kiss you goodnight. Innocently with a peck to the top of your head.

Sometimes your cheek.

He so badly wanted to kiss your lips, stopping himself when he felt his stomach stir, especially when your sweet doe eyes looked up at him. When he cuddled you, his arms would wrap around your body, his hands finding their way to the hem of the Henley you wore. His henley. His fingers would slip up to feel your skin, knowing such an angel was real grounded him. You'd do the same, tracing over his scars, neither of you openly talking about the growing tension between you both each day.

-

"Will you read to me?" Bucky asked, wrapping his arms around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder while you stirred some honey into the tea you were making. You giggled at his needy cuddles, his much larger form practically engulfing you from behind. "Please"

"Who'd have thought such a strong, scary soldier would want bedtime stories" you cooed, letting him carry you away to his room, making a stop at the bookshelf first to pick out a new story.

He settled against the headboard with you tucked in his lap, relaxing at you made yourself comfy between his thighs. Your words had an affect on him he couldn't describe, no longer paying attention to what you were saying and instead watching the movement of your lips. Your eyes darting across the pages. Your body pressed against his.

The butterflies started again.

His stomach stirred.

He tried to adjust himself, pulling you into a hug to calm himself down, ignoring the way he wished he could have more.

"You alright, Jamie?" you asked, feeling his squirming, his eyes growing wide as if he'd been caught red handed. He shook his head, insisting you continue reading, God he didn't know what to do with himself.

He fidgeted again, this time trying to keep you off the tightness growing more and more, you made it so difficult for him-

"Are you sure you're okay bub?"

"I don't remember much but-I-I know I want you closer, flower" His voice was shy, his adams apple nervously bobbing in his neck as he shifted, unable to hide the hardness between his legs. His mind was a mess, fragments of love and intimacy struggling to piece themselves together yet he knew enough to want to hold you close.

He wanted to feel your soft skin on his.

He wanted to kiss you in places that would make your cheeks warm.

Where you'd want to cover yourself but let him have you, just him.

He wanted to feel your hands touch him everywhere. He wouldn't flinch at your delicate ministrations, he'd give all of himself to you. He'd trust you in his most vulnerable state, feeling things he hadn't for years, so heavy between his legs.

"How much closer, Jamie" you couldn't meet his eyes, gripping onto his t-shirt instead, setting the book on the nightstand, now all your attention on him.

"You know, angel" He let his nose bury into your hair, the blush on his cheeks travelling to his neck. He couldn't bring himself to actually say what he wanted, hesitantly moving his hands to your hips instead, slipping up your shirt to hold your waist. "Can-can I kiss you?"

He could hardly recognize himself, nervous beyond comprehension, his heart racing when you nodded, cupping his cheek to look at you. He leaned down to press his lips to yours.

"More" You let your body melt into his, his tongue lacing with yours, deepening the kiss. He didn't pull away until he desperately needed air, no longer able to contain his arousal.

"M'sorry angel, s'been so long, my body's not the same-

"Don't. Don't you dare, I adore you just like this Sergeant" He sucked in a breath as you toyed with the hem of his shirt, nodding after a moment letting you take it off. You kissed every scar on his chest, your head resting on his shoulder where metal met flesh, "You're the most handsome, beautiful man," You kissed his neck making him hiss, your tummy jumping at the feeling of his erection now pressed right against you, "You deserve all of this"

"Can I see you, please?" He undressed you with such care as if he was unwrapping the most precious present, first laying you down before slipping your top off. You wordlessly undressed each other until there was nothing left to take off going right back to wrapping your body with his.

"You're the softest thing I've ever touched" He whispered, loving how you felt, your thigh hitched over his hip, your breasts pressed against his bare chest, your soft tummy against the hard planes of his abs, your hands rubbing up and down his spine, oh God your silky most sacred parts absolutely soaking his length. His body moved on its own, rutting up to chase more, his cock slotting so perfectly with his flushed tip rubbing against your clit.

The desperate moan he let out made you gush, seeing how lost he was in chasing how good you felt with the stutter of his hips.

"M'so hard" He whined, hugging you tightly, "Please angel, do something" It was the most delicious torture. You pulled away from his hold wanting to give him every bit of loving he deserved, giving his body the pleasure it had been deprived of. You shuffled to kneel between his legs, his eyes growing wide, your face so dangerously close to where he was achingly hard. There was no way, you weren't going to- your lips pressed a gently kiss to his frenulum and the tears started, you wouldn't give him more than this-

"Baby, oh God, no, no, I can't angel, oh God-OHH" He cried, his body splayed wide for you, bach arching off the bed as you took his swollen cockhead into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his circles, licking every bit of his essence that dripped out. Your face was between his legs, his cock was in your mouth, you were suckling off his most sensitive parts, how could he not spread his thighs apart further for you. He'd never been so open or vulnerable, letting you play and toy with his cock, his tears soaking the pillow at his balls started to pull towards his body, it couldn't be over so soon-

"Sweet baby, please, please-" He pulled you off his cock, bringing you up to smash his lips against yours, his thick length slapping against his tummy. He could have sworn he was close to cumming just tasting himself on your tongue. "Can-please I want to-" He scrambled to lay you against the pillows as you squeaked at the way he manhandled you in desperation, "please"

He was between your thighs, sighing with heart eyes as he carefully spread your folds with his fingers, taking his time smearing around your slick, your throbbing clit begging for his mouth. He latched on like a baby, nursing with the most needy gurgles, your gasp melting into a moan making his eyes roll back.

He couldn't believe he had his mouth on his pretty angel, his tongue toying with the precious parts between her legs, letting him taste her, drinking up her nectar, feeding him in the best way possible.

"I-oh-slow down baby, please, M'gonna- You gasped, feeling surges of pleasure already pulsing as he flicked his tongue with precision, his arms wrapping around your thighs, tossing them over his wide shoulders.

"Mph, cum" he whined before diving in for more, greedily humping and grinding against the mattress, how was he supposed to last like this.

"Want-want to feel you, please" You begged, needing him inside you, giving you something thick and hard to cum on. He didn't waste a second, shakily clambering back on top of you, nervously positioning himself at your entrance.

"You sure, sweet girl? I-it's been so long"

"I trust you" You pulled him down to kiss his reddened nose making him blush, letting out the breath he was holding as he started to push. You both moaned together as he buried himself all the way, stilling once he was flush against you, his orgasm already so close to shooting at the base of his cock.

"Hng, I needed this angel" He didn't move and you didn't need him to, just the feeling of him stretching and filling you fulfilling something you couldn't describe. You loved the feeling of you both being connected in the most intimate way, joined as one, it felt so right like he was finally where he was meant to be. Like he'd found his everything.

Your thighs moved to hug his waist, your arms around his shoulders. He drew his hips back and thrusted forward gentle, the gasp escaping your lips urging him to keep going. He started to move at a steady pace, bringing his hands to lace with yours, pinning them against the bed.

"I love you-even if I have no right, I love you so much" Bucky lost himself to you, his hips moving at a slow grind, letting every inch of his cock fill and caress your walls, "You showed me love when I least deserved it"

"Fuck, I love you too!" You cried out, the curls at the base of his cock rubbing your clit, sending you higher and higher. "Oh, James!"

"My God, the way you say my name when m'inside you, say it again baby, please" He started to move faster on his own accord, primal urges starting to take over as he began to chase his pleasure and yours.

"Please, James, feels-feels so good"

"Gonna make me cum so hard, the things y'do to me baby, drives me crazy, wanna be like this for the rest of my life, making love to you and nothing else, swear this is all I want"

"James, gonna-gonna cum"

"Cum with me angel, all over my cock baby, cum on it, wanna feel it, please give it to me, I need it. Need your sweet cream all over me, fuck-yeah-jus like that-" You clenched around his cunt, his name dripping from your lips as your orgasm crashed over you. That was all it took as he tucked his face right against your neck, holding you tight as he trembled, it was so much,

"M'cumming!!" His sob was muffled as his cock throbbed, warm streams of his cum pumping you full, his ass stuttering with each jerk of his hips. "So-so much for you, s'all for you angel"

Bucky made love to you everywhere, not one place left without him taking you apart to his heart's content, including the garden. The story you were reading was long forgotten as he took you under the shade of the tree, the long wispy branches of the willow tree hiding you from the rest of the world.

The summer sun cocooned you in a blanket of warmth as clothes were all tossed aside leaving you both bare on the sheet you'd spread on the grass, the sounds of the breeze, the rustle of the bushes and your moans blending in so perfectly with his rhythmic thrusts.

"Beautiful" he whispered against your cheek, pulling away so he could look at every bit of you, "So beautiful for me like this"

"Jamie, stop" You grew bashful, you knew no one could see you in your secluded spot so deep in the forest but you still felt so vulnerable, spread out naked with just his body covering you, shamelessly taking his cock while the afternoon sun hung in the sky.

"S'just us baby, just you and me, don't worry" He purred, bringing your arms up, holding your wrists in his metal arm while his flesh hand came down to caress your face. "We're not doing anything wrong darling, m'showing you how much I love you, how good you make me feel, yeah?"

"Yeaah" Your voice melted into a breathy whine as he started to move with more purpose, his warm breath fanning against your face.

"Lookit how pretty you are sweet girl, my pretty flower, you were meant to be here baby, feels so right, just like this"

Out of all the stories and poetry you'd read to him, this was what Bucky saw as true art. He'd seen the finest paintings around the world in the richest houses, guarded by the highest security. He'd seen nature's most incredible wonders with the tallest trees, the sweetest flora and nothing, absolutely nothing, would top how gorgeous you were, bare, on the grass, him filling you up, it was euproic.

The image was etched in his brain, he'd treasure it forever. Your shy moans. The clench of your cunt. The way he filled you up and kept his cock in you even after it was soft. The way you cuddled and kissed in a post sex haze, listening to the sounds of the forest. He could have cried at the way you fell asleep in his arms, so trusting for him to keep you safe.

This was all he needed.

He took care of you, keeping you protected while he did his best to eradicate Hydra with you to patch him up each time he came home. As soon as it was safe, he took you right home and under the care of your father, he healed from the words that held him captive.

It didn't take long for your home to be filled with the sounds of tiny feet mixed with the sounds of science experiments gone wrong; your little babies, their daddy and their papa getting up to mischief at all hours.

"Careful, flower" Bucky shook his head, running towards you as you waddled into the living room with an expression of concern on your face, cocking an eyebrow when you saw your son looking up at you with bug eyed goggles matching his papa.

Bucky came to steady you, his hands coming to wrap around your growing belly while your father and son continued to tinker away at a new creation.

"How are my princesses" He cooed while you huffed, still wondering what they were doing.

"We're both wondering what you're going here James"

"Papa's building me a rocket-

"A bicycle! Just a bicycle darling, go sit, son why don't you take her for a walk" You father ushered you and Bucky out, sending a wink to his grandson.

"A bicycle my foot" You shook your head while Bucky took you to the kitchen, setting a pot of water, ready to dote on you as usual.

"He gets that side of him from you, love" Bucky chuckled, coming down to kiss your belly, resting his head there. "Just wait until she's here too"

"You're a menace, Sergeant"

"You married me, darling" Bucky pouted making you giggle, cupping his face to kiss his jutting lips.

"and I love every bit of you"

"I love you more, pretty girl"

You would always be his flower.

[wordstome]

how c.ai works and why it's unethical

Okay, since the AI discourse is happening again, I want to make this very clear, because a few weeks ago I had to explain to a (well meaning) person in the community how AI works. I'm going to be addressing people who are maybe younger or aren't familiar with the latest type of "AI", not people who purposely devalue the work of creatives and/or are shills.

The name "Artificial Intelligence" is a bit misleading when it comes to things like AI chatbots. When you think of AI, you think of a robot, and you might think that by making a chatbot you're simply programming a robot to talk about something you want them to talk about, and it's similar to an rp partner. But with current technology, that's not how AI works. For a breakdown on how AI is programmed, CGP grey made a great video about this several years ago (he updated the title and thumbnail recently)

I HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend you watch this because CGP Grey is good at explaining, but the tl;dr for this post is this: bots are made with a metric shit-ton of data. In C.AI's case, the data is writing. Stolen writing, usually scraped fanfiction.

How do we know chatbots are stealing from fanfiction writers? It knows what omegaverse is [SOURCE] (it's a Wired article, put it in incognito mode if it won't let you read it), and when a Reddit user asked a chatbot to write a story about "Steve", it automatically wrote about characters named "Bucky" and "Tony" [SOURCE].

I also said this in the tags of a previous reblog, but when you're talking to C.AI bots, it's also taking your writing and using it in its algorithm: which seems fine until you realize 1. They're using your work uncredited 2. It's not staying private, they're using your work to make their service better, a service they're trying to make money off of.

"But Bucca," you might say. "Human writers work like that too. We read books and other fanfictions and that's how we come up with material for roleplay or fanfiction."

Well, what's the difference between plagiarism and original writing? The answer is that plagiarism is taking what someone else has made and simply editing it or mixing it up to look original. You didn't do any thinking yourself. C.AI doesn't "think" because it's not a brain, it takes all the fanfiction it was taught on, mixes it up with whatever topic you've given it, and generates a response like in old-timey mysteries where somebody cuts a bunch of letters out of magazines and pastes them together to write a letter.

(And might I remind you, people can't monetize their fanfiction the way C.AI is trying to monetize itself. Authors are very lax about fanfiction nowadays: we've come a long way since the Anne Rice days of terror. But this issue is cropping back up again with BookTok complaining that they can't pay someone else for bound copies of fanfiction. Don't do that either.)

Bottom line, here are the problems with using things like C.AI:

It is using material it doesn't have permission to use and doesn't credit anybody. Not only is it ethically wrong, but AI is already beginning to contend with copyright issues.

C.AI sucks at its job anyway. It's not good at basic story structure like building tension, and can't even remember things you've told it. I've also seen many instances of bots saying triggering or disgusting things that deeply upset the user. You don't get that with properly trigger tagged fanworks.

Your work and your time put into the app can be taken away from you at any moment and used to make money for someone else. I can't tell you how many times I've seen people who use AI panic about accidentally deleting a bot that they spent hours conversing with. Your time and effort is so much more stable and well-preserved if you wrote a fanfiction or roleplayed with someone and saved the chatlogs. The company that owns and runs C.AI can not only use whatever you've written as they see fit, they can take your shit away on a whim, either on purpose or by accident due to the nature of the Internet.

DON'T USE C.AI, OR AT THE VERY BARE MINIMUM DO NOT DO THE AI'S WORK FOR IT BY STEALING OTHER PEOPLES' WORK TO PUT INTO IT. Writing fanfiction is a communal labor of love. We share it with each other for free for the love of the original work and ideas we share. Not only can AI not replicate this, but it shouldn't.

(also, this goes without saying, but this entire post also applies to ai art)

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Heart sweater | B.B

Your daughter got a present for his daddy and Bucky isn’t afraid to show everyone what his little girl got for him.

Pairing: Mob!Dad!Husband!Bucky Barnes x Mom!Wife!Reader

Wordcount: 2.033 Words

Warnings: none, just lots of fluff

Authors Note: I couldn’t help myself. This sweater is just so adorable and imagine Bucky’s little girl getting it for him. So yes, soft spot, feeling soft right now. Hope you enjoy!

Events: Winds of autumn challenge | Candy corn 🍬 a sweet surprise, Balance ⚖️ as the equinox approaches, the day and night balance out. Write about finding peace | @the-slumberparty

Seasonal Delights Bingo: fall vibes | Row One-One | soft kisses | @seasonaldelightsbingo | Fairytale Bingo | Row One-Three | Goddess of marriage | @fairytalebingo

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

“Daddyyyy! We gots you a present!" A childish voice echoes through the hallway of the building. Your and your little — big — families home. Others may say that you, Bucky, and your daughter are family, but there are so many more; they aren’t from the same blood but with the same big hearts.

Bucky’s men, who not only needed to earn his trust but also needed to earn their place in the family, are more than just his men. They are Bucky’s friends, your friends, and your daughter's uncles. None of them would let anything happen to you or the little girl — not just because Bucky told them to take care, but because you’re a family.

Your little daughter runs further through the hallway until she finally reaches her dad's office door. The second floor of the building is just an office — for Bucky and his men. And since he had an important meeting, he suggested that you could go out with her to get some new toys and clothes.

Of course, your little baby girl didn’t go to the toy store first. She loves it, but you’re shopping? She has to get a present for her daddy. She kind of gives herself a treat after finding the perfect present for Bucky — and then she uses all the money she can to get a lot of toys and stuff for herself.

You watch the toddler with amused eyes whenever you’re shopping without Bucky. Mostly Steve comes with you, keeping the two of you safe and just giving you a helping hand so you don’t have to carry all of these bags yourself.

“Sweetheart,” you chuckle while she already jumps to reach the handle and almost falls into her dad's office. You laugh softly, shaking your head — she is just as stubborn as her daddy when it comes to letting someone help or listen once they get excited.

Bucky’s head shoots up the moment the door swings open. He smiles at his little girl, then his eyes wander further toward you. The ocean blue orbs glistening when his lips curl up into a soft smile — one he reserves only for you and your little girl.

“Take care, my sweet little plum. Don’t want ya to get hurt, do we?” He asks, his voice soft but still a bit firm, so the little girl will listen to him. Her eyes — which are just as blue as Bucky’s — roam over her daddy’s body, from his legs up to his face, before she smirks with the widest grin ever.

“We gots you something’, daddy!” She says, excitedly. Bucky crouches down, resting his arms on his knees while he waits for his little girl to continue talking. “Mommy! Daddy waits fo’ you!”

You chuckle, looking for the bag in your hand she wants to have before placing all the others down and handing her the one she put her daddy’s present into. Bucky’s eyes move toward you; without any words, he makes sure you’re okay and that you can be without a kiss for a few more minutes while he focuses on his baby girl.

Once he’s sure you’re fine — after you settle down on the couch in his office and sigh softly — he mouths, ‘I love you, my pretty girl’ to you. And oh damn, you know why you fell in love with that man. He may be a big, feared mafia boss, but around you he is the sweetest, most loving, caring, and perfect husband — and father for your daughter — you could have wished for.

Bucky may be mad because of work sometimes; he may be annoyed, but he never lets it out on you. He would rather punch himself than make you feel like he doesn’t appreciate you or that you’re a burden for him. For your husband, you’re the most precious woman, and he will do everything to keep you safe and loved. He does the same for your little girl.

Luckily, Bucky discovered immediately that whenever he's mad, he just needs you, and everything is perfect. Preferably when he can keep you on his lap. His arms are tightly wrapped around your waist and pull you as close as possible while he presses his face into your chest. You will run your fingers through his hair, and he knows he’s safe — no reason for anger or annoyance, just love and affection, so he calms down without needing anything but you.

“So what do you have for me, my little plum?” Bucky asks, looking with amusement and curiosity at the little girl in front of him. She giggles, her tiny hands grasping his cheeks, and she runs her small fingers over his stubbles.

“Sc’atchy,” she mumbles and squeezes his cheeks together. Bucky lets out a low chuckle, letting her play with his scratchy stubbles. He knows how much his sweet little girl likes his stubbles; she is just like her mommy loving his metal arm and his stubbles — even though you have other intentions when it comes to his metal arm or his stubbles. But those are secrets that stay in the bedroom.

“Sweetheart, you wanted to show Daddy what you got for him,” you remind her when you notice that she got lost in her little game to play with her daddies cheek. But she was so excited to get him his present, plus you know that Bucky’s curious as well.

She removes her small hands and grasps the paper bag again, opening it before hiding her face almost inside of it. You would never leave her with a bag without anyone else around her, but as long as you and Bucky are there, you don’t feel scared if she puts her head slightly into it to tease her daddy a bit.

“Yeah, my little plum. What do you got Daddy, huh?” He asks, bringing his big hands to her small sides to poke his fingers into her soft flesh. The little girl laughs, throwing her head back while she wiggles in his grip.

She pulls her tiny hands out of the bag and holds a big, white sweater with hearts on it in front of her. Her smile grows and her eyes sparkle as she shows it to Bucky. And the big, most feared mafia boss has the sweetest expression on his face.

His eyes shine, and it looks like the sun is brightening them. His smile reaches almost his ears as he stares at the fabric in his daughter's hands. Bucky’s eyes wander to you for a second, then back to his little girl.

“Thank you, my little plum,” he coos, taking the sweater out of her hands to admire it a moment longer. Your daughter watches Bucky intensely — the same intense stare Bucky has if he wants to find out how you think about something. “You want me to take it on right now?”

She nods, letting herself fall backward into her butt while she holds his gaze. He nods, smirking softly. Bucky leans forward, his big hand placed at the back of her head, and he brings her closer to press his plump lips against her forehead.

“Then I will do that,” he says, getting up from the stop he was kneeling. His eyes land on you, and before he leaves the room to change into the new sweater, he makes his way over to you.

He towers over you, both of his hands finding their way to your thighs, and he leans closer. His lips almost brush yours when he grins at you. “She chose the sweater all by herself, but you allowed her to buy it, didn’t you?”

You shiver under his intense stare and his rough voice. “S-she’s just really convincing. I know you said you don’t want presents, but I guess— I guess she got that from you,” you giggle and Lena closer to chase his lips for a soft kiss. Bucky chuckles, kissing you once again before he pushes himself up and makes his way out of the room to change into the sweater you and your daughter got him.

Your daughter gets one of her new toys out of the bag and shows it to you. It’s not like you don’t know what she bought, but she loves to show you and explain everything about it anyway.

“Mommy, wants book or wants dolly?” She asks, lifting her small arms and holding both up to let you decide which of these she should show and explain to you.

“Do you want me to tell you more about the book you got?” You ask. She nods and puts the doll down, walking with the book in her hands toward you. The little girl places the book on the couch next to you, her small fingers digging into your thighs, and she tries to push herself up onto the couch. “Do you want me to help you, sweetheart?”

“Nuuu, ‘m big girl!” She nods, underlining her words. You chuckle; let her climb up without help. Your hand is still behind her back just in case she falls backwards, but she doesn’t.

Once she is on top and next to you, she wiggles a bit and takes the book, placing it in your lap. She just wants to explain why she got the book, who’s on the cover, and what she knows about her favorite series — the book is about it — when Bucky walks back into the room.

Her eyes widen, and she giggles as she sees her big daddy in this pretty sweater she got him. You smile softly at him, reaching your hands out for him to come closer. “You’re pretty, Bucky,” you say and run your fingers over the back of his flash hand, then over the fabric of the sweater.

“Didn’t know I would look that good in that sweater,” he jokes. Stroking one of his hands over the fabric. And he really does look adorable with his middle long hair, his broad chest, and his big arms — the feared mafia boss — wearing a sweater with a lot of hearts on it because his sweet little plum got it just for him. “So, my little plum, what do you think?”

Bucky gets down on his knees in front of the couch, looking at the little girl. Her ocean blue eyes roam over him a little longer before she giggles. “Looks pwetty, daddy! Now we can go back to work!”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I thought I could take out my girls for dinner.” Bucky tilts his head. His fleshy hand holds yours tightly while he watches the little girl, considering if she wants to work or prefers to have dinner with the two of you.

“Do we gets my favorite food?” She asks, taking her book and making grabby hands, waiting for Bucky to pick her up. He nods, wrapping his arms around her to lift her onto his waist before he holds a hand out for you to grasp and let him pull you up.

Bucky doesn’t care that people could look weird at him for wearing a sweater with hearts on it. His sweet girl got it for him, and he knows that no one will disrespect him — not even when he looks like a sweet puppy with an adorable sweater.

“You know, babydoll,” Bucky says, looking at you as he wraps his free hand around your waist to pull you into his side. His nose brushes over your cheek until his lips press against your temple. “Thank you for letting out sweet plum to buy me such a pretty sweater. Now I’m wearing your necklace, our wedding band, and my little girl's sweater. I love you, my babydoll, pretty momma.”

Bucky’s voice is low, and he smirks against your skin as you shiver. You knew he would love the sweater — he loves everything you or your daughter get him. “I love you too, Buck,” you mumble before you make your way to the restaurant — letting Bucky show his sweater around to let everyone see how proud he is to have his family, how much he loves you and his little plum, and how much he appreciates you and your love.

Taglist -> @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @loki-laufeyson68 @winterschildren8 @bxtchboy69 @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @im-alestan @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing @blackhawkfanatic @fanfictionreaderfan @multiversefanfics @angelbabyyy99 @looking1016 @aphrodite-xoxo @fanfictionreaderfan @iris-xoxo-juhu @holylulusworld @bucks-babe @whatever-lmaoo @thevillainswhore

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

Big, Strong Man

PAIRINGS: James "Bucky" Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

WARNINGS: GYM FLUFF, swearing

WORD COUNT: 528

*not proof-read*

ENJOY!

“Bucky, that’s insane I can’t fucking do that,” you chastise your boyfriend as you point at the weights he’s putting onto the leg press. “James, that’s almost 200 pounds,” you whine and grab his elbow, trying to stop him from adding more weights.

Two months ago, you told your man that you wanted to go with him to the gym. He asked you why, because he already loves you the way you were. You smiled at his statement and assured him that you were not feeling insecure, but was looking for something to do as a couple.

And you were not a newbie to the gym; however, you weren’t as frequent as your 6’2 man.

“Doll, s’fine. I believe in you,” he rubs your exposed arms, as he sneakily glances at the cleavage your sports bra exhibits. You flick his cap and snap at him, “eyes up here, Barnes.” He chuckles at your smirk and gestures you to sit at the machine.

You knew that going to the gym with Bucky was going to be fun, but what you didn’t except was that the man was going to be pushing you to your limits and making you break PR’s all the time.

You sit at the machine and follow Bucky’s instructions on how to place your feet. “Ok so shoulder-width wide and point your toes out. You feelin’ okay, babe?” He wipes some sweat off your forehead with his thumb, before combing some of your loose hairs back.

“Fine,” you reply with a smile, “how many reps?” Bucky looks at the machine then back at you, “since we’re going heavy this time, I’d say seven. But, if you can’t then stop darlin’. I don’t want you injured.”

You smile and adjust your headphones to cover your ears. Giving a thumbs up to your boyfriend, who stands in your line of view, music starts blasting into your ears and you start pushing with your quads.

At the end of the set, you don’t even know how many times you pushed, your puffing and groaning when you set the machine to the start position.

You drop your legs, and they start quaking. The music pauses and Bucky signals to remove one of the covered ears. When you do, Bucky’s slapping your shoulders and cheering, “babe, that was fifteen. You did fifteen reps!”

You’re in shock, “what!” Bucky nods, he tells you how he was counting, and didn’t want to stop when you passed seven. You slap Bucky’s arm playfully before giving him a glare, “fuckin hell, Buck. What if it dropped, I could’ve been crushed!”

Bucky shakes his head, “no you wouldn’t.” He gives you one of his cheeky smiles, that he only reserves for you.

You narrow your eyes playfully at him and dip your hip before crossing your arms, “yeah? Why?”

Bucky copies your stance and walks to you until you are toe to toe, he wraps his metal arm around your waist and pulls you close. He nudges his nose to yours, and you place your palms on his clothed, insanely sweaty and muscular, chest.

“Cuz you got a big, strong man to save you, doll,” he pecks your lips.

🎀🎀🎀

Whoops, looks like I dropped something (this fic). 🤭🤭🤭

This is dedicated to the lovely gentleman who helped with the leg press machine today at the gym, what can I say. I'm just a girl 🎀

Lemme know what you lovelies think!!!

Till' then,

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Okay but imagine Bucky on Help you out with that saying “Don’t show your boobs to anyone but me now. These are for my eyes only” or “you only show these to me, alright? No more dares from your friends, no more helping out another man see boobs, unless ofcourse, that man is me. These are mine to mark and see”

as a subtle hint of him wanting to be exclusive 🥹

My Eyes Only » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Bucky makes it perfectly clear that your breasts are for his eyes only.

Warnings: implied Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, pet names

A/N: I’m not taking requests at the moment and I wasn’t planning on making a part 2 to Help You Out With That so I hope y’all enjoy this little Drabble, but I couldn’t resist this so thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

It would be after you came home from shopping with your friends. You walk in Bucky’s apartment and go to the living room where Bucky is. You immediately greet him with kisses. Bucky couldn’t help but notice how revealing your cleavage is in the shirt you’re wearing. He also couldn’t help but feel jealous that people other than him possibly saw your breasts.

“How many people did you show your breasts to?” Bucky asks.

“No one.” You answered.

“Are you sure?” He asks again.

“I showed them to my friends a couple times.” You answered honestly.

“Why?” He asks.

You could hear the jealousy in his voice.

“You weren’t there so I asked them for their opinions.” You tell him

You watched the way Bucky’s jaw clenched when you said that. Bucky grasped your hips and pulled you onto his lap, straddling him.

“Don’t show your boobs to anyone but me now. These are for my eyes only.” He tells you. “You only show these to me, alright? No more dates from your friends, no more helping out another man see boobs, unless of course, that man is me. These are mine to mark and see.” He says.

“Wait a minute… are you jealous?” You asked.

“No.” He answers, lying through his teeth. “Maybe…” He lies through his teeth again. “Ok, fine. Yes I’m jealous.” He finally admits.

You couldn’t help but giggle and kiss his lips.

“Plus that’s my way of wanting to tell everyone that we’re together.” He says.

“You want to tell our friends we’re dating?” You asked, making sure you heard him right.

“Yes. Unless you don’t want to.” He says, rubbing his hands up and down your sides.

“I’m fine with it.” You say, agreeing with him.

Bucky smiles widely and kisses you.

“As of right now…” Bucky’s hands disappeared under your shirt and slid further up till they were under your breasts. “I have more important matters to attend to.” He says, his thumbs rubbing the underside of your breasts and shameless staring at them.

🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖

-Bucky’s Doll

[vbecker10]

Hey love, how are you doing? Hope you’re all good. Could you write a Bucky x fem!reader who has an eating disorder, but she hides it from the team and she does it successfully, but on one mission she passes out, which is weird because she’s one of the best. She says it was just because she didn’t feel well and everyone believes her, but not Bucky. He senses that something’s off and eventually finds out, because he leaves reader no choice but to tell him, and so she does.

I’m struggling with my ed and I would love it, but if you don’t want to write this, it’s totally fine! I am a huge fan of your work💚

I Want You to be Healthy

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N) - established relationship / reader has an eating disorder

Summary: You pass out on the way to the jet after a successful mission. The team quickly accepts the excuse that you don't feel well but Bucky knows you well enough to know that you're lying. As soon as you are alone together, Bucky pushes you to open up to him about what truly made you pass out.

Warnings: Eating disorder, passing out, denying you have an eating disorder, feeling insecure about your weight & body image, keeping secrets from your friends and boyfriend, relapsing eating disorder

Background: Female reader has an Eating Disorder (a combination of anorexia and bulimia). Reader has the following behaviors: Skipping meals, frequent checking in the mirror for precieved flaws, constantly using a scale and tracking their weight, eating alone and at odd times of the day / night, exercising more frequently and more intensely than needed, not taking rest days or days off for injury, using the restroom soon after eating, making their own meals rather than eating what the team eats, often complains about needing to be healthy and talks about having to lose weight or gain muscle, thinking they are in control of their eating habits

A/N: Hi my lovely anon, I'm so sorry to hear you are struggling with your ED, I hope you can focus on yourself and get the help you need. I'm here if you want someone to listen 💚 Thank you for trusting me with this, I tried not to focus too much on the specific type of eating disorder since there are a few but I found some similarities between them when I was doing my research. I used those symptoms for this to make it a bit general. I hope this is okay 💚

I didn't tag too many people in this because I wasn't sure who exactly to tag, I won't be offend if you skip this 💚

Steve walks at the front of the group, one hand firmly gripped around the arm of a captured Hydra officer, her hands cuffed tightly behind her back. The mission was simple enough and more of you had gone than was needed but you couldn't pass up the opportunity to be out in the field. It was the only place you felt you belonged, where you could show the others on the team you were good enough to be here.

When Bucky had knocked on your door earlier this afternoon and asked if you were free to join them, you agreed eagerly. It was a welcome distraction from what you had been doing for the last hour, standing in front of your full length mirror, scrutinizing every inch of your body. The flaws in your physique are so glaringly obvious to you, you couldn't help but fixate on where you need to lose fat or gain muscle.

Bucky had smirked when you answered your door to him in nothing but a towel, he assumed you were having a lazy day after a relaxing shower. You hugged him tightly and told him you would get ready for the mission. There was no point in telling him what you had really been doing. A super soldier could never understand your daily struggle with your weight or the constant drive to be perfect. None of the Avengers could.

Natasha and Clint follow the captain closely, another captive officer walks with his head down between them as they discuss dinner. They quickly decide that since its Friday, they should get take out when they get back. There was no reason to make an excuse of course, take out was the easy option. Most of the team was either too busy to cook or had simply never been taught how to.

This meant you had to be even more careful because the food that was ordered was never healthy. Soon after you joined, you learned that it was easier to prepare all of your own food and eat in your room. Eating away from the team also meant they couldn't ask why your portions were what they considered small or why you were eating much later than them. It was none of their business anyways, you had told yourself often. As much as you would have liked their company, it was better this way. You could focus on your weight and health instead of answering all of their questions or dealing with their concerned opinions.

Bucky chuckles as he slips his arm around your waist, unaware of your thoughts. "I'm voting for spaghetti and meatballs, not that anyone asked me," he joins his friends conversation but you are barely listening.

Natasha checks to make sure Clint has a firm hold of the captive then she effortlessly turns, walking backwards smoothly through the thick leaves. "What do you want for dinner, Y/N?" she asks you with a smile, pointedly ignoring Bucky's comment which gets a laugh from Clint.

You don't answer, too distracted by the pain that is spreading deep in your stomach, the one that means you've almost reached your limit between meals. When you get back, you'll need to find something to eat, even if that means more time in the gym.

"Earth to Y/N," the spy waves at you to get your attention. When you make eye contact with her, she again asks what you want for dinner.

You shrug in response, the pain in your stomach growing as you walk. You know the type of answer she is looking for. Pizza, Thai, sushi. You could easily suggest any one of a hundred things but you can't. If you did, you would be expected to join them and that isn't something you are willing to do.

"Don't bother," Clint says when you are silent for a few more steps. His tone is relaxed but you worry he can tell what you are thinking. "You know Y/N never eats anything we order. We don't get anything healthy enough for her," he reminds Natasha. "Too much grease and fat and deliciousness."

"It's not my fault I'm the only one at the Tower worried about my figure," you roll your eyes at him.

Bucky laughs, his hand squeezes your waist, a part of your body you've always been self conscious about. "Your figure is perfect, doll," he smiles and you wish you could believe him but it's not that easy.

Natasha turns back to Clint, not missing a step and pats his stomach once. "Maybe you could learn something from her," she jokes.

"Hey!" he calls after her, sounding like an annoyed sibling. She laughs, jogging lightly towards Steve to hold the female officer while he opens the hatch.

Your ears begin to ring and the trees in the forest around you blend together, becoming hazy. Bucky kisses the top of your head and asks you a question but you can barely make out what he is saying. His voice is just above the ringing that vibrates in your mind. He looks down at you, his expression quickly turning to concern as he says your name but you don't respond.

You're light-headed and suddenly feel cold as your vision blurs more of your surroundings together. You take one more small step and stop, unable to continue forward. Bucky's hold on you tightens but you can't make out his words. You recognize what's happening to your body but only a second before you lose consciousness.

"Y/N," you hear Bucky say your name softly as he runs his metal fingers through your hair gently. Opening your eyes with a quiet groan, the jet gradually comes into focus but everything is sideways. You turn your head to look up at Bucky and realize your resting on his lap. "Slowly doll," he says, helping you sit up in the seat next to him.

"You okay?" Clint asks from the seat across from you.

You nod, still a bit dizzy, "Yeah."

"You had us all worried," Bucky says, his eyes not leaving you.

You shrug, hoping a few simple lies will calm everyone including yourself. It's been almost three years since you passed out from not eating. The last time it happened, your eating disorder had spiraled out of control for the second time and your family urged you to get treatment. It couldn't be happening again though, you think desperately. You are in control of your eating habits this time, you had just accidentally gone too long without eating.

"I felt kinda sick this morning. I know I probably should have stayed home but this sounded like a really quick mission," you offer an explanation that sounds likely.

"Next time you tell us if you don't feel well enough to go out," Steve says sternly from the pilot seat of the jet.

"Will do cap," you plaster on a smile to hide the wince from the dull ache in your stomach and salute him. This earns you a huff and a dramatic eye roll from the blonde super soldier.

"Good, can't let anything happen to the second best spy on the team," Natasha says with a smirk as she opens some files on her tablet.

You force out a small laugh, "Second best?" Then you look at Bucky who still hasn't taken his eyes off of you. He doesn't seem to have accepted your excuse as readily as everyone else but he also knows you better than anyone. "Are you going to let her talk about your girl like that?" Hoping the joke with Nat will distract him from his concern for you.

Bucky responds with a smile almost as fake as yours and says, "Of course not doll."

"Hey," Tony says when he spots you coming towards him in the hall. "How are you feeling? I heard to passed out in the field today."

"I'm okay, just a bit dehydrated," you tell him, holding up your bottle of water as proof.

"Okay, just try to be more careful next time," he tells you and you agree to as you continuing towards your room. "You're not gonna eat with us? Nat ordered from this new Mexican place."

"I'm still feeling a little off," you touch your forehead lightly and he nods. It's an easy excuse and it slips out before you even realize you've said it. You take a few more steps down the hall then add, "I'll see you all in the morning for training, though."

"Only if you're feeling up to it," he says and you give him an enthusiastic thumbs up. He smiles, shaking his head when you turn away from him again. "You're allowed a rest day you know," he calls after you. You continue towards your room without responding, you know that's not true.

A soft knock on your door interrupts your reading and you get up to see who it is. "Hi Bucky," you greet your boyfriend warmly but he doesn't offer you a hug or even a smile in return.

"Can we talk?" he asks in a serious tone and you nod, letting him in as your heart races. Those three words send panic through your body in an instant. You freeze as he takes a seat on the edge of your bed, rubbing his hands together anxiously. "Come sit, doll," he taps the bed next to him lightly without looking at you, his eyes still fixed on his hands.

You walk over and sit next to him silently. What do you two need to talk about that is making him this uneasy, you think. The only answer that surfaces is that he's come to end your eight month relationship, but why? Did you do something wrong, had you forgotten something, your mind races in search of an answer.

He takes your hand in his metal one gently and takes a breath to steady himself which only makes you more nervous. "Y/N," he starts slowly, "I love you so much, you know that right?" He lifts his head to look at you and you nod, too anxious to speak.

"I'm going to ask you this once," he says, "And please, don't lie to me." You bite your bottom lip, searching his face for any hint of his question. "Why did you really pass out on the mission today?" he asks.

You feel the smallest hint of relief that this isn't about your relationship but then you are instantly filled with a different type of fear. Has Bucky figured out what you've been hiding from him, from everyone? Does he know about your eating disorder returning and your worry that you're losing control? Your mind fills with all of your most easily accepted excuses, hoping that you can convince him you are okay.

Before you can open your mouth, he shakes his head. "I need the truth doll," almost as if he can see the lies forming.

"I-" your words stick in your throat and you look away from Bucky, your eyes roaming around your small room. You focus on the high tech scale positioned in front of the tall, full length mirror you spend so much of your time in front of.

He cups your cheek, bringing your eyes back to his, "Talk to me. I can't help if I don't know what's wrong, Y/N."

"I'm fine, I promise," you tell him in the most sincere voice you can, kissing his cheek softly. "I told you, I was just feeling a little under the weather today. It's not a big deal."

"You didn't eat again today," he states, no hint of a question in his tone. You're in too much shock to begin defending your reasoning for skipping a meals when he adds, "You've been missing meals a lot lately, haven't you?"

You nod, suddenly feeling caught which makes you feel both guilty and embarrassed. Bucky is the one person on the team you have always been able to confide in, even before you started dating but this was something you wanted to keep even from him. It was the reason you forced yourself to eat when you went on dates with him but you always found a way to excuse yourself and use the bathroom soon after. Had he noticed that too, you worry.

"How long do you think you can go without eating?" he asks but you don't want to admit you know the answer. Since college, you've developed a pretty good sense for how long you can go between meals, today truly had been a miscalculation. Instead you simply shrug as you guage whether or not you can convince Bucky you missed those meals by accident.

"Y/N," he says when you are quiet. "You can't keep doing this."

You chew the inside of your cheek, this conversation reminding you too much of the one you had with your parents the first time they caught you hiding and throwing away your food. Your eyes flicker away from his and back as you start to realize you might be struggling more than you thought.

His jaw tightens and his gaze follows yours to the scale and mirror then he sighs. "I should throw those stupid things out," he says, more to himself then to you.

"No," you respond quickly and he furrows his brows when he looks back at you. "I need them," you try to explain, your body tensing at the thought of being without them even though they do nothing but cause you anxiety and distress. "I have to keep checking..." your voice trails off, you don't want to open up any further. You don't want Bucky you judge you.

"Checking what?" Bucky asks, hoping you will let him in.

"I have to keep checking my weight," you finish and you find yourself suddenly unable to hold the rest in. "I've always been just a little over from where I need to be with my weight." You look down at your body as you sit next to him, you can easily envision all the flaws you saw in the mirror this morning. "I'll get there, I'm close," you tell him as if he's the one you need to convince and not the small voice that dictates what you can and cannot eat.

You had been focused on your weight for almost your whole adult life and never reached your target. It doesn't matter that the target keeps shrinking anytime you are even remotely close. A few times, you had almost reached the number you thought would finally mean you were perfect only for the small voice to disagree. It would insist you could still lose more weight or you had put on too much muscle or needed more muscle or any number of things. Each time your goal changed, your eating habits became stricter and your workouts became more intense.

Bucky cups your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin lightly, "What are you talking about? You're in the best shape of anyone on the team. You're perf-"

"No," you shake your head, pulling free from his fingers. "I'm far from perfect, you of all people should know that. You're a super soldier, you were practically built to be perfect," you tell him and Bucky's metal hand twiches as he removes it from your waist. "I knew you wouldn't understand," you add with deep a sigh.

"I want to understand. I'm worried about you," Bucky says but you don't look at him.

"You don't need to worry about me," you say, shifting away from him on the bed. You feel yourself becoming defensive and worried he will want you to stop checking your weight and eat more. "I'm fine, I told you. Why can't you just leave it alone?"

"Because you're not fine," he says, his voice raising a bit to show his frustration, not at you but with the situation. "You don't eat, Y/N, not nearly enough and I've seen the way you push yourself too hard when we train. I kept telling myself you knew what you were doing and you would stop if you needed to but then today..." he shakes his head as his voice trails off for a moment.

"Today was an accident," you insist but you're less sure of yourself then you had been. "I have it under control. If I had known about the mission beforehand, I wouldn't have gotten sick."

"You didn't get sick, you passed out," he says and you can see he's becoming more upset by the conversation and the fact that you will not listen to him. "What if that had happened in the middle of the mission? What if we had been somewhere more dangerous and I couldn't get to you? You've gone on solo missions, no one would have known what happened to you."

You get up quickly, needing to distance yourself from Bucky's questions and concern and the doubt they are creating in you. You pace around your room, trying to absorb his words but you don't want to believe he's right. You don't want to admit that you're not okay again.

Without realizing it, you walk towards your mirror and tap the scale with your foot. Bucky gets up, coming over to you but your eyes are fixed on the scale. You tap it again and it turns on, the zeros blinking slowly as you remember the number that stared at you this morning.

"I get that your worried about your weight-" he starts but you cut him off.

"Of course I'm worried about it," you look up, folding your arms around your body tightly. "You have no idea how easy it is to gain weight, one little slip and I could lose all my progress. I have to watch everything I eat and workout so I can be good enough to be here, so I can be perfect," you voice your inner thoughts to Bucky for the first time. "I can't just stop," you tell him.

He moves closer to you, removing the empty space you created between the two of you and you begin to feel nervous again. "I want you to be healthy," he takes your hand in his, pulling you away from the scale.

"So do I, that's why I need to do this," you argue but you feel defeated, as if you are only moments from admitting you know he is right.

He shakes his head, his metal arm rests on your lower back, pulling you closer to him. "What you're doing is the opposite of being healthy, doll. Can you see that?"

You look up at him, seeing the concern fill his eyes and you know you can't deny it any longer. You bite your lip and nod slowly, "I think I need help."

"I'm here doll," he responds softly.

"This isn't-" you struggle to find the words and he gives you time, holding you quietly. "This isn't the first time this has happened," you tell him honestly. Bucky holds you silently as you tell him about your struggles with your eating disorder and how you have relapsed previously after getting treatment. He doesn't ask questions or interrupt you, his hand moves gently up and down your back as you open up completely. When you finish, he wipes your tears softly and kisses your forehead.

"I thought I was okay," you tell him, your voice breaking. He pulls you flush against his body, wrapping his arms around you.

"You will be," he assures you and you rest your head on his chest, hoping he is right. "You are the strongest person I have ever met, you can do this. I will help you any way I can, I promise."

You pull away to look up at him, realizing you'll be gone for at least a few months for treatment. "What am I going to tell everyone?" you ask him, feeling a wave of shame wash over you. It was one thing to break down and admit to Bucky that you had an eating disorder but it was an entirely different thing for the Avengers to find out. "I don't want the team to know," you shake your head, worried about their reactions.

He cups your cheek and you look up at him again, "Don't worry about the team or anything else, doll. I will take care of them and everything else. The only thing I want you to do is focus on getting better, on being healthy again." He gives you a hopeful smile and says, "I'll tell them we're going to visit your family. Fury will approve the time off, it shouldn't be an issue."

You sniffle in response then smile slowly, "We?"

He nods, "If that's okay with you. I know there are things you'll need to do alone, but I want to be close, in case you need me. I want to be there for you, every step of the way."

You wipe a tear quickly with the back of your hand and nod, unable to express how much Bucky's offer means to you in words. Instead, you reach up and press your lips to his softly, holding onto him tightly. Pulling away slightly, you look into his eyes and tell him, "I love you."

He smiles, running his fingers through your hair gently, his metal arm still holding you close. "I love you too, Y/N. You will be okay, I promise you will get through this."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚

@soubi001 @mochie85 @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lulubelle814 @siconetribal @jiyascepter @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @dracoswhorexx @lokiandbuckysdoll

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Slippery Rendezvous

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: none

Summary: Natasha doesn’t approve of your feelings for Bucky despite your many attempts to convince her that he is the man for you. What else can you do when she forbids you to date any of her friends?

Squares Filled: natasha romanoff / black widow (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

You wake up to an empty bed. What did you expect? That he’d stay? Bucky isn’t known to spend the night after fucking you but you keep wishing he would. You run your hand down his side of the bed and feel the cool sheets. He must have left early in the morning so that your sister wouldn’t see him.

It’s not like she hates him but she hates the idea of you being with any one of her “coworkers”. Natasha isn’t shy when it comes to relationships and often encourages you to go out and have fun with different men. She loves dating even if she doesn’t show it, and you love telling her about all the dates you get to go on. The issue is that she doesn’t want you dating anyone she knows. She knows the baggage that comes with the men she knows and doesn’t want you mixed up with it.

You went to University to get a degree as a voice actor. You’ve gotten gigs across the country but ultimately settled in New York where you got a job working on a popular animated television series. You’re already in your third season and have no plans of stopping anytime soon. Natasha loves to tell you how normal you are and how different you are compared to the shit she goes through every day.

You’re not a spy and you have no desire to be a spy. You’re not Natasha’s biological sister because you came into her life well after she got done with the Red Room training. She was on a mission to kill your father for all the bad shit he has been doing. You hated the man and had always wanted to leave. However, your mother died at birth and you were a minor at the time. He always hid his shady shit which is why he didn’t get convicted for anything.

She saved you and she adopted you a couple of years later. You don’t blame her for your father’s death even if she did pull the trigger. He’s a bad man who is rotting in Hell and you’re better off for it. Now, you have a successful job and are in love with the infamous Winter Soldier. Only he doesn’t know it and if he does, he doesn’t do anything about it.

You two met when Natasha was having a party at the Avengers Compound. She didn’t want you to go but you insisted that with her by your side, you’ll be fine. It’s not like the Avengers are going to pick a fight with you or anything. Even Bruce had his alter ego under control, so she relented and let you come.

Her world is and was much different than yours. She told stories of how she went to space, how she kicked someone’s ass, and how she infiltrated an organization. All you have to show for is the work you’ve done for entertainment. You’re not nearly as special as any of them but Bucky makes you feel like you are.

He kept to himself in the corner of the room drinking something that wasn’t alcohol when you approached him.

“Hi. Do you mind if I join you?”

“No, go ahead,” he clears his throat.

“I’m Y/N. I’m Natasha’s sister. Adopted sister, actually, but she feels like a real one to me. What’s your name?”

“You seriously don’t know who I am?” he chuckles.

“I know who you are but I’d thought I’d be polite and let you introduce yourself instead of assuming I know everything about you.”

“Right,” he nods. “I’m Bucky.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”

You two fell into conversation that lasted well past the party. Natasha had a secret thing for Steve and didn’t mind staying over as long as you were safe and okay with staying. You left that night with thoughts of Bucky and when the next time you were going to see him, but Natasha didn’t share your enthusiasm.

“Listen, I don’t want to tell you what to do but I don’t want you seeing Bucky.”

“Funny. That sounds exactly like you telling me what to do,” you scoff.

“I mean it, Y/N. Bucky is a good guy now but he wasn’t always like this. He’s not all the way back yet and I don’t want you getting hurt. With any of them. They have too much baggage and you don’t need something like that in your life.”

You look out the window in annoyance.

“I just spent the last two hours talking to a guy who made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. I’m not saying I want to marry the guy but I felt something that I haven’t felt with any of the guys I’ve dated.”

“I knew bringing you to that party was a bad idea,” she scoffs. “You’re not seeing Bucky. End of story.”

“I am an adult, Nat. Let me make my own decisions. Let me decide if he’s worth the heartbreak.”

“He will do more than break your heart. He will break you. He didn’t get his name for nothing. His body count is well into the hundreds if not thousands. I am not worried about him breaking your heart. I’m worried about him killing you. I mean it, Y/N. Stay away from that one.”

You tried, God knows you tried, but there is something about Bucky that you couldn’t stay away from. You formed friendships with Wanda and Thor which gave you an excuse of going to the compound where you knew Bucky was living. Wanda caught on pretty quickly at what you were trying to do since she can read minds and all that, and she agreed to keep your affair with Bucky from your sister.

You’re not trying to hurt Natasha but you fell for Bucky and fell for him hard. He just never stays the night like you hope he does.

You get out of bed and walk to the bathroom where you hear the shower going. Natasha must be in there. You slip in and knock on the door to let her know that you’re inside the bathroom with her.

“Hey, Nat, I’m just going to brush my teeth. I’ll be out shortly.”

You slip in, close the door behind you, and walk over to the sink.

“I’m not Nat.”

You tense when you hear Bucky’s deep voice but then smile when you realize he slept the night in your bed. The curtain slides to the side just enough for him to peek his head out of it, and you turn to face him.

“I thought you left last night.”

“Nope. I wanted to stay the night with you. Is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay.”

He closes the curtain again and resumes cleaning himself.

“Got any plans today?”

You’re about to answer when you hear the front door slam open and shut. Natasha is the only one who has a key so she must be back. If she found out Bucky has not only been dating you but secretly fucking you, she’d have a heart attack and probably kill him.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” The bathroom door shakes and you do the first thing that comes to mind. You quickly hop in the shower, fully clothed, and look at Bucky who smirks. The door opens and Nat walks in. “Y/N?”

“I’m in the shower!” Bucky’s mouth opens so you place your hand over it so he understands he needs to be quiet. “What do you want?”

“Listen, Steve and some of the guys are having a cookout at Clint’s farm. I was wondering if you wanted to come with me.”

“Really? You’ll let me go?”

“I feel bad and I shouldn’t keep you away from your friends.”

“Is Bucky going to be there?”

Bucky nods and looks at you with mischievous eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll go.”

“I invited you because Wanda and Thor will be there. They’re your friends.”

“I know.”

“Y/N…”

“It’s fine, Nat. I’ll hang with them.”

“Okay. We leave in an hour.”

She leaves the bathroom and you remove your hand from Bucky’s mouth knowing you didn’t need it to be there. He knows Natasha’s opinion of him and how she wouldn’t approve of you two dating. He just wanted to feel your hands on him if he’s being honest.

“Great, now I’m all wet. Look what you did.”

“I like it when you’re wet,” he smirks.

You shove his shoulder and scoff playfully but he grabs you and pulls you into him. He slides his hands into your hair and kisses you. He must forget the situation you’re in because you can feel his growing arousal on your stomach.

“No, Bucky, we should stop. I will not be tempted into shower sex again. Remember what happened last time?”

“Damn, my arm malfunctions one time and you’re triggered.”

“Can I trust you to keep your hands to yourself at this cookout?”

“No,” he chuckles. “It’s gonna be hard not to. Now I’m picturing you wet.”

“Hurry up and leave before she finds you in here. I’d rather not know what a fight between Black Widow and the Winter Soldier looks like.”

You slip out of the shower and back to your room without your sister noticing. While you’d like your relationship to be out in the open, sneaking around is just too much damn fun.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[navybrat817]

Bucky needs to pay attention to me. 😤

I feel you, nonnie. 😂

Running on Empty

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You had a long day and need Bucky to give you some attention.

Word Count: Almost 1.3k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral sex (f. receiving), established relationship, dirty talk, humor, sassy reader, inner monologue, slight feels (it's me, lovelies), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Work left me in a mood, so apologies for this. 😂❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You huffed as you took a seat on the couch and wondered why you bothered getting out of bed today. Contrary to popular belief, Mondays weren’t always the worst. Naturally, the universe decided it would be fun to give you problem after problem today at work in retaliation for having a positive attitude. How you managed to get anything done outside of putting out so many fires, you had no idea.

And Bucky?

Your beefy, gorgeous specimen of a boyfriend had time to sit, relax, and reread his copy of The Hobbit for the umpteenth time. Manspreading in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world. Not that you wanted him to have a bad day, too. God knows he deserved rest and relaxation.

But why was he reading instead of fucking the obvious frustration out of you?

“You’re staring at me,” he said, turning a page without looking up from his book. “Which I would say it’s creepy, but we both know you like looking at me.”

True.

You bit your lip as you unashamedly checked him out, wishing he’d lift his gaze so you could see the blue of his eyes. It was an impressive feat that his prosthetic arm matched his right arm in terms of the muscular form and structure, the fabric of his shirt stretching to accommodate his torso. It didn’t matter if he decided to hold you down with his flesh or metal hand, he loved to remind you of his strength as he pounded your desperate pussy, stretching your walls and driving into you so deep that you swore you saw the gates of heaven.

Maybe that was why you thought Bucky looked like Jesus when he was in Wakanda.

“Yeah, I am staring,” you replied, tapping a finger on your thigh when he hummed. “Because I’m trying to figure out why you’re reading instead of eating my pussy.”

Bucky waited a beat before he picked up the bookmark beside him, carefully slotting it between the pages before he shut it and gave you his full attention. “You mind repeating that?” He asked, his voice gruff as he tucked some of his hair behind his ear. He wore it down today, but kept a hair tie around his right wrist.

Perfect for him to pull it back when he went down on you.

He smirked and scratched his scruffy chin when you narrowed your eyes. You craved the burn it left behind when he rubbed his face against your most sensitive area. He knew that.

“You want me to spell it out for you, Bucko? Fine,” you said, leaning back on the cushions as you spread your legs and planted your feet on the couch. Your hands formed a perfect V by your mound, which might as well have been a neon fucking sign since you ditched your under minutes ago, as he tried to hold back a groan. “See this? I have a perfectly good pussy right here and it isn’t going to eat or fuck itself.”

Bucky ran his tongue along his bottom lip before he inhaled. The beautiful bastard was actually sniffing out your arousal. You almost wished you could go back in time and let the scientists know that the serum they created helped super soldiers use their heightened senses to get their dicks wet.

Not that you were complaining since Bucky eyed you like he wanted to devour you whole.

“I’m sorry, baby. Didn’t realize eating or fucking your pussy was on my ‘To Do’ list today,” he said, purposely running a large hand over his crotch.

Fucking tease with his fucking massive hand and cock.

You pouted when he didn’t make a move to get up. “I am your ‘To Do’ list. I’m your girlfriend and I want you to do me because I had a long day,” you huffed, dipping your hand between your spread legs before you batted your eyes at him. “You haven’t fucked me in ages. It isn’t fair.”

Your beautiful man snarled at that, making you shiver as you teased yourself. You didn’t dip a finger in, but you did spread your growing wetness around as he watched. “I fucked you last night,” he reminded you.

“It feels like ages,” you corrected yourself. Thanks to him, you experienced what all-consuming desire felt like and you didn’t like going long without him having you. He couldn’t fault you for that, even if he did thoroughly wear you out the night before. “I’m so empty, Bucky, and I have this tight, wet hole for you to fill up. It’s all yours if you want it.”

His nostrils flared as he finally pushed himself up, his fingers flexing as you kept rubbing yourself with a sweet smile. “It’s my pussy,” he rasped, palming himself again as he stood in front of you. “And since she’s so needy that I can’t even finish a chapter of my book, stop touching her and let me get to work.”

Like you don't have a needy cock, big boy.

The growl in his voice brought a moan out of you, but you didn’t stop touching yourself. “Unless you mark it,” you began, looking him dead in the eye as you brought a glistening finger to your lips and traced along them like a gloss. “It isn’t yours.”

You managed not to smirk triumphantly when he took the hair tie from his wrist and pulled his luscious hair back. “She knows she’s mine. Bratty pussy just wants some attention,” he said as he dropped to his knees and leaned in to nose at your slit. “But I don't mind leaving my mark again.”

“Did you just call my pussy a brat?” You questioned, the last word coming out as a strangled moan when Bucky darted his tongue out, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep you still.

“No, I called my pussy a brat. Good thing I know how to tame her,” he said, winking up at you when you looked down. The playful look in his eyes made your heart swell. He was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him. “Kisses are a good way to start before I pump her full.”

“A very good start,” you smiled, clenching in anticipation.

“And she loves my kisses,” he replied before dragging his mouth along your folds. The sensation that shot through you almost had your thighs clamping around his head, but it wasn’t possible with the hold he had on you. “I gotta say though. She's a messy little thing. Gets my mouth so wet.”

“Bucky,” you whimpered, tugging some of his hair free as he gently wrapped his mouth around your clit.

He hummed and lightly sucked on it before he pulled away, making you whine in protest when the sparks of pleasure fizzled out. “Speaking of kisses, I almost forgot.”

You gave him a small smile when he leaned up to tenderly kiss your mouth, letting him swallow down your moan as you opened up for him. It ended far too soon for your liking, making you loop a finger around his dog tags to pull him back to your lips. “Love you, Bucky,” you whispered.

On the days you practically ran on empty, you appreciated having someone like him by your side.

“Love you, too, baby,” he whispered back, his gaze soft as he slid back down your body. “Now hold on and let me make you and my pussy forget all about that long day.”

You knew he’d ask later if you were okay, but for now you’d let him shut your brain off and make you feel boneless.

And maybe you'd offer to warm his cock later as a thank you while he caught up on reading.

We all deserve that, right? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[fckng-guts]

safe

bucky barnes x reader.

bucky hasn't slept in two days. you try to help him.

hurt/comfort. reader has mind control abilities.

1k+ words.

the water pours outside, heavy clouds make the moonlight disappear in the immensity of the sky. the angry droplets hit the ground, the windows and adds to the usual turmoil in bucky's mind. the hideout is as good as it can get and there isn't much importance when one is familiar with precarious living situations. it's been two days in the hunt, following almost absent leads. this is when things start to get heated and frustration creeps in. the lack of sleep, the wetness of the place and the loudness of the rain makes it all worse; bucky starts to feel it. and sadly it isn't worth sleeping. the nightmares haunt him, especially during his asleep moments. but there isn't anywhere to go, the car has been damaged beyond repair and the rest of the team will take a long time to arrive. it's almost like he's been left behind. damn it, bucky thinks. do they not see him as someone worthy of companionship and rescue? the threatening thoughts begin to rise.

you watch bucky pace from side to side, all ready with a demeanor that would put any other person off. but to you, there is nothing more than care when you notice bucky's furrowed eyebrows, vacant eyes and a numb expression. it's a sign that his own thoughts are his greatest torturers at this moment. your phone blips with a message, it says

rain flooded the way. can't reach you guys - sam.

"yeah, it seems like we're stuck in here for a few hours. they can't get to us at the moment."

the monotonous sound that erodes from bucky is simply a hum. making it known that he understood.

"you need to get some rest, it's been two days."

it's worth a try. as expected, bucky denies it. the overwhelming sensation of not being safe is impossible to ignore. the tension in his shoulders is more than visible and the air is thick. it may be raining, but this fuck-ass of a spot doesn't have ventilation. the rain is too heavy to let the air circulate through the room. it's damp. you get up to stretch your legs, the sound of your soaked boots makes bucky turn heels to you. he stares.

"you should get these off."

sharp. He says as his back faces you again. it'll be a long night, you think. but yes, it would be better to get rid of soaked boots and socks for now. sighing, you sit back on the ragged couch to take them off.

"i could help. if you want."

for a while you hesitate to say this out loud. afraid it could come out wrong or something. it's difficult to offer such a thing to someone whose mind has been controlled over and over, stripped away of it's sanity for long.

"help with what?"

bucky will never fail to hide his true emotions, especially those who eat him up the most.

"with what's keeping you from closing your eyes. the nightmares. i can help, if you want."

you say slowly, carefully picking the words to make them seem like a friendly offer. to not make it worse than it is. and you continue "you can rest. for a while. it's been two days, bucky. and we're safe here."

bucky isn’t used to the idea of others caring for him, it feels odd. and it’s way too scary to have someone in control of his mind again. but if it’s you, it’s okay. isn’t it?

fuck, he thinks.

“i don’t need it. i’m fine.” bucky answers harshly.

you knew it, it was a weird thing to offer a man like him to ease his nightmares away. one simply doesn’t ask if you can touch his stained memories.

“it’s fine. understood. i wouldn't do anything you don’t agree with.” regretful, you try to brush it off like it was nothing. trying to hide the embarrassment that came along with it. but these last words steer something in his core. bucky does feel like he can trust you, but there are so many what if’s that get in the way. what if it scares you away? what if you do see him as a monster, what if then? it’s complex when you ask him with such care, tensed up about how it might sound. the amount of care embedded in these words. bucky sighs. heavy weight crosses the room, he avoids direct eye contact for a second. the infinite silence held in the room breaks when bucky says

“thank you.

and it’s almost inaudible, like he wasn’t supposed to say it. his mouth opens briefly as if he wants to let something out, but it’s stuck.

“it’s fine. i shouldn't have asked that. didn’t think how weird it would be till it came out of my mouth.”

you answer in a light manner, rubbing your face as you do so. it’s been a long mission. you feel bucky lean properly on the couch, tired just as much as you.

time goes by slowly with him awkwardly sitting by your side. bucky’s considering all the possible options if he does accept your kind offer. he’s been by your side for a long time now, surviving through unexpected situations. he has seen the things you’re capable of and the loyalty that’s been gifted to him. you won’t run, will you?

“twenty minutes.”

bucky bitterly says. he’s taking risks and you know these words came from a brave part of him. so when you turn to him, he’s already closing his eyes and resting his head on the couch. arms crossed and still holding to his gun.

“will you give me your hand?” you ask kindly. tt’s easier to access his mind through touch. a second later his ungloved hand meets yours. and from there you start your work, by his side. as soon as your skin touches him cold one, your mind is connected to his. it’s possible to sense the anxiety and fear and also the effort he’s putting into easing his own emotions. it doesn’t take long to watch bucky fall asleep with your abilities, he starts to look peaceful. no violent memories shall haunt him while you’re here.

this time you’re the one staring. cherishing this moment of closeness. you notice how his face softens, how his fair falls on his face and lips come slightly apart. you’ve never had the chance to actually see how beautiful he is. never had the chance to get so, so close. ah, the shape of his nose. his chest moving up and down quietly. there are many details you’d like to keep hidden in a secret room in the palace of your mind. you’ll never forget the warmth of his hand in yours like tonight. nothing compares to this moment. twenty minutes do turn into an hour, perhaps an hour and a half. not entirely sure. but you know your heart is blossoming for the man. it’s been a while, you think to yourself, since you looked at him differently. a little more than just partners in a mission. your head comes to rest closely to his, caressing his hand and appreciating this connection. it stays like this for a moment till bucky slowly opens his eye and meets yours. he’s safe. safe. his senses come to him even slower, the exhaustion took him out for good. and you don’t let go of his hand, not yet.

you’re given a soft smile.

and then you hear in a whisper,

“thank you.”

because in a long time bucky feels comfort in the hands of someone else.

[purple-babygirl]

in the far corner of the forest IV

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 6,540

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: mentions of hand injury, idiots in love, feels, jealousy, racism against orcs, angry behaviour, shouting, fight gets slightly physical, bruised arm, crying, angst (i'm sorry). I think that's all.

A/N: good news result in long chapters. thank you from the bottom of my heart for everyone who has wished me good luck with my interview, you guys are angels. please enjoyxx💜💜

~

“You’re in love.”

“I’m what now!?” Bucky chuckled dismissively as he dropped his axe.

Bucky had spent half a day at home, refraining from going to work because of his hand’s condition, but as much as he loved staying home with her, he knew he wasn’t made to take a break.

So he thought he would visit, talk to Sam for a bit and maybe get some pent up ‘feelings’ out on some tree logs. His metal arm was still working just fine after all.

“I said, you’re in love with your human wife,” Sam repeated, smiling so warmly that Bucky wanted to smack him.

“I got her a few weeks ago.” Bucky shook his head in denial of the mere idea of him falling for anyone, let alone a human.

He did love Sam and Sarah, but that was it. They were the only humans he could tolerate. He hated the rest of them. Hell, he hated the human half of himself.

Bucky was just trying to make life easier for himself, that was all. He has been through enough conflicts and he didn’t need this in his marriage too. He deserved to live a normal life like everybody else.

Yes, he was courting her, and maybe he did constantly crave the feel of her body against his ever since she let him hug her the night of the injury, and he was definitely getting hopeful now that she hadn’t tried to run for a whole half day, but that didn’t mean he was in love! Did it?

“And now you’re in love with her.” Sam smirked, knowing how much it drove Bucky crazy that a female human had him on his knees for her love.

“Quit saying that!” Bucky stood up, ready to walk away from his annoying friend.

“Why does it make you so angry that you’re in lo—”

“Don’t,” Bucky warned him, eyes angry and glaring.

“—ve?”

“I am not in love with her, okay! She’s human! Plus, that girl drives me crazy! Do you know how many times I had to bring her back after she’d tried to run in the first two weeks? Five fucking times! That’s almost once every two days, Sam. And she only had one foot working!” Bucky ranted heatedly, desperate to negate his best friend’s theory.

Was he in love with her? And if Sam could see it, did that mean she could too?

“Well, why do you care to bring her back? Why not just let her run?” Sam shrugged, internally dying for Bucky to acknowledge his feelings.

“She could die out there! Humans are weak.”

“So?” Sam probed, intentionally ignoring Bucky’s remark about humans’ strength.

“So— so I signed all those things when she was offered to me. She can’t— I can’t—”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t let her get hurt,” Bucky admitted lowly, sitting down on a log with a loud sigh.

“Why does that make you so upset?” Sam dug deeper.

“Because I think you’re right. I think I might be in love with her.” Bucky rubbed his eye with his good hand, pushing his hair back angrily.

“And?”

“And she thinks I’m the devil.” Bucky’s face fell to his palms.

“Did she ever say that to you out loud?” Sam asked, touching the end of his sharpened blade.

“She doesn’t need to, Sam. I see it in her eyes every time I find her after she’d tried to run away.” Bucky’s voice was broken like his friend has never heard before.

“I thought you said everything was better after your injury?”

“Yeah, but that’s not gonna last forever.” Bucky gave a sad grin, “she’s soon gonna go back to seeing me the same as before.”

“Well, it’s up to you to change her mind, Buck.” Sam patted his friend’s shoulder, giving a squeeze.

Bucky sighed once more before getting up.

Sam was a human. A very handsome one with much less scars and non-icy skin. He would never understand. It would never work. She hated him.

He could continue trying, but it wouldn’t change anything of the way she felt about him and their marriage. She had told him time and time again how she felt about both.

“Going home already?”

“Yeah, I can’t miss the running away bit. It’s my favourite,” he sighed, Sam's laugh trailing behind him.

“Smile at her for a change.”

“Shut up.” I do smile at her. I only ever smile at her.

“Sarah loved the jam by the way!” Sam yelled.

“I’ll let her know!” Bucky yelled back before exhaling sadly.

Sam would never understand. Her taking pity on him those past couple of hours was nothing more than sympathy and likely even guilt.

Sam would never understand that of all the eyes in the world, it seems like Bucky has managed to fall for the only ones that knew how to hurt him, the eyes that would only look at him as a disgusting, frightening monster.

~

When Bucky got home, everything was creepily in place. His door was closed like he had left it and he actually had to use his key to open it for the first time in a while.

Stepping inside, the warm smell of roast chicken welcomed him back.

The house was warm because all the windows were actually shut, too. It was all so calm and homely; the orc was seriously worried.

And then he heard it: his human wife’s sweet voice, humming the melody of a song unfamiliar to him. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen.

Bucky carefully shut the door behind him, not wanting her peaceful mood to end so soon as he tried to take lighter steps to where she was.

Much to his dismay though, she needed something from the other side of the kitchen and when she turned around she saw Bucky and gasped, jumping embarrassingly high.

“You scared me!” She whined, holding a hand to her heart.

“Sorry.” Bucky smirked, entertained by how cute she looked when startled.

“Welcome home,” she mumbled with a bit-back grin, holding onto his forearms before getting on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

She never told him, but she was unbelievably thankful when he didn’t specify which type of kiss he expected weeks ago, and even more thankful when he didn’t object to her pecking his cheek before burying herself under the covers.

Life with Bucky has gotten undeniably familiar lately and leaving him was all of a sudden an idea that didn’t interest her as much as before.

Everything he was saying and doing has brought her closer to him without her even comprehending it.

As the days passed, she had realized running away was too exhausting, too risky, and for what? It wasn’t like she had a home to run to or a treasure buried somewhere or a lover worth escaping her orc for.

Her orc.

Hers.

A word she never felt the meaning of until the day Bucky made her his wife.

Bucky was the first and only one to present to her a taste of something she has never had: the feeling of exclusively owning things.

The smile that graced her face when she brushed her hair the first time with the brush Bucky got her was new and unprecedented.

Her brush, he called it.

Her shoes. Her chair. Her towel. Her clothes. Her books. Her side of the bed. Her cottage. Her kitchen.

And her husband.

Everything was brand new and completely hers.

Nothing was handed down to her, nothing was used before the minute her fingers had touched it. None of the things Bucky gifted her had previous owners, including him and his heart.

Most importantly, she didn’t have to share any of it with anybody.

“You’re home,” Bucky said, a surprised yet very happy smile lighting up his handsome features.

“I thought the wife was supposed to say that,” she replied playfully, going back to the bubbling pot.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at the good mood she seemed to be in. He was liking this.

He watched her sprinkle some black pepper into the soup as he came behind her.

She could feel the heat of his body surrounding her even when they weren’t touching and it had her heartbeat going crazy.

“Thank you, little human,” Bucky whispered, before he leaned down and pecked her cheek as well, his stubble and blunt tusks tickling her jaw.

She felt her whole body jolt with electricity at the simple graze of his lips and tusks on her skin as she closed her eyes.

Bucky left the kitchen and went to the bathroom but she was still hot as if his warmth never left her.

And when she opened her eyes and absentmindedly reached her fingertips to touch her cheek, she found herself smiling too.

What was happening to her? What was this foreign feeling lifting her off of her feet in the middle of the kitchen?

“Sam’s sister loved your strawberry jam by the way!” Bucky shouted to her from the bathroom, making her jump again before smiling to herself.

He didn’t use Sarah’s name on purpose, not wanting to ruin her happy mood as he had noticed how angry she got every time he would say it.

“I’ll make her more tomorrow!” She replied with a grin, proud of her hand’s work, her jealousy long forgotten after Bucky’s words of the night before.

After all, how could she be jealous when she was the one that Bucky was looking at like that?

~

When she finished setting up the table and Bucky didn’t come out of the bathroom, she got a little worried.

He never took too long during his showers, and now that he only had one arm to use, she thought he would cut his showers even shorter.

What if his wound was bleeding again and he didn’t want to tell her and was trying to fix it by himself inside the bathroom? She knew she should have stopped him from going to the yard!

“Bucky.” She knocked on the door softly, wanting to make sure he was okay.

“Yes, little human?” Bucky instantly opened the door for her.

And he looked like a dream.

Steam has surrounded him inside the bathroom, water drops from his still-wet hair dripping down his muscular, bare chest and for the first time since Bucky has been naked around her, she found herself looking at him. Actually looking.

Bucky’s chest was so broad, beefy and ribbed down to his abdomen. Scars of all sizes and shapes littered the beautiful, icy greyish skin, a reminder of the battles he had fought and all the sacrifices he had made.

Her heart clenched at the sight, a pang of sympathy coursing through her as she could only imagine the pain he must have had to endure.

Still, she found her hands tingling in curiosity, desperate to know what tracing the healed skin would feel like under her fingertips.

Bucky was a sight for sore eyes, a sight that both captivated and unnerved her, stirring a flurry of unfamiliar emotions in her chest that she struggled to contain.

She averted her gaze, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her at the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

“Are—” she chocked, her voice barely above a whisper as she coughed it out, “are you okay? You took a while.”

“Yeah, I’m just having a hard time drying up my hair with one arm,” Bucky reassured her, chuckling lightly at his dilemma as he let the towel around his neck drop.

He was completely oblivious to the way he just made her face burn up as her thoughts spiraled out of control.

“Come.” She took Bucky’s hand in hers, careful not to squeeze his palm, and led him outside to their bed.

It took Bucky a second to move his feet, but when he did, he felt like he was being carried on top of a cloud.

She felt herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t quite explain, her heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness, curiosity and… desire. A new sensation was tingling all over her body, specifically in places she didn’t need to be tingling right now.

Positioning herself between his parted legs, she reached to take the towel from around Bucky’s neck.

His eyes watched her, surprise flickering in them as he realized what she was going to do, unable to believe what was happening.

Sensing her nervousness, Bucky offered her a reassuring, grateful smile, silently encouraging her to continue.

And as she began to carefully pat his damp hair dry, her touch tentative and her eyes focused, he felt warmth welling up inside him.

She couldn’t help but steal glances at his bare shoulder and chest, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the engrossing sight. It was a feeling unlike anything she has ever experienced before, her heart racing with unparalleled excitement.

The awkwardness of the situation began to fade bit by bit as she focused more on the task at hand, in its place growing an overwhelming sense of closeness and familiarity.

Bucky’s hair was so soft under her fingertips as she took the towel up and down the brown locks. She wished she had given herself a chance to touch it more before.

As she finished drying her orc’s hair, she met his gaze with a shy bite of her lip, her eyes sparkling with newfound confidence.

Bucky reached out to take her hands, his smile appreciative as his lips pressed a deep kiss on each palm, silently thanking her for her kindness and care.

~

“I didn’t know your cooking was so good. You surprise me every day,” Bucky praised, as she filled his mouth with more lentil soup, trying not to think of his conversation with Sam or the way his body was still on fire from the mere act of her drying his hair for him.

He couldn’t even believe she was feeding him after seeing him struggle to keep the food on his spoon using his left hand.

“All the girls at the orphanage know how to cook. They teach us all sorts of things and make us to be good housewives,” she replied, suddenly nostalgic of her days at the orphanage, curious to know how, where and when Bucky got the chance to see her back then.

Bucky didn’t say anything, busying his mouth with chewing some bread as his smile shrank.

She didn’t look happy. Why did she stay then? Was she planning on running away at night that day? Maybe she put something in the food?

“I’m glad you like your dinner though,” she said, breaking the thick silence with a soft smile as she fed the orc a piece of chicken.

“Why didn’t you try to leave today?” Bucky couldn’t hold back.

She was taken aback by his question. She thought he wanted her here.

Was he finally done? Did he want her out? Was he not going to look for her this time? Has Bucky given up on her? Was he going to leave her be had she gotten out today?

Most importantly, she didn’t know how to answer because it seemed like she was done running away from her new life with him, and she didn’t know if she could admit that.

“I– did you want me to?” She asked, her voice strained as she tried to hold in the tears.

“No! No, of course not!” He assured her quickly.

“Then?” She chewed on her lip.

“I don’t want you to stop running if it makes you feel alive,” Bucky told her, his blue eyes gushing with love he didn’t intend to show, “I’m willing to go to the ends of the earth to find you.”

“What?” She wasn’t expecting this at all, all the tingles she had hardly managed to shake off after drying Bucky’s wet hair coming back to attack her.

How were these words coming out of an orc! And why did they make her heart stutter in its beats?

“I love your fiery spirit and I’m afraid I’m killing it by keeping you here against your wishes. I never want to be the one to snuff your fire out.” Bucky admitted, eyes sincere as he watched her.

She just stared at him for a moment, stunned as her heart skipped yet another beat.

If he only knew that he was the one who had managed to bring this fiery personality to life.

Bucky respected her silence and went back to enjoying his dinner, not wanting to push her for a reply. She could take her time.

She kept staring at him in confusion for another minute before taking her almost untouched plate and getting up.

She almost ran to the kitchen with her hand on her heart.

What was going on with her? Her heart wasn’t seriously beating this loud for the orc. Could it be?

He sounded so selfless and spoke so gently like he has never before and she was overwhelmed.

His words were doing things to her that she has never felt before. What was wrong with her?

She knew she had caught herself staring at him without a shirt just minutes ago, maybe admiring his eyelashes as he slept in some early mornings, but she rendered it curiosity and nothing more.

She shook her head, her thoughts startling to her as she emptied her plate in the garbage and started washing it vigorously.

Bucky no longer had an appetite, sighing at her reaction.

He told himself he could understand, but it was still hurtful the way she jumped out of her chair.

He left his plate on the table, not wanting to invade her privacy by going to the kitchen before leaving the cottage altogether.

He probably shouldn’t have said anything.

~

She revisited the subject the same afternoon though, not wanting there to be any misunderstandings between her and Bucky. Not any longer.

“I don’t wanna leave anymore,” she admitted timidly, making Bucky’s smile betray him and his usual frowning.

“But I don’t like being locked away in here all day either,” she said carefully, scared to upset him.

“Where do you wanna go? The forest is dangerous, little human.” Bucky was back to frowning at the thought of anything bad happening to her again.

It was torture for him when her foot was still healing and he was the most relieved when it finally did. He couldn’t just let her roam around when she didn’t know the area.

“Take me out when you come back from work maybe? Or even on your day off,” she suggested, desperate to see the world.

“And go where?”

“Anywhere. We can walk around the woods before it gets dark, you could show me your shop, I could meet Sam? Or we could even go to the market!” She suggested eagerly.

She has been locked up for so long and she didn’t want to continue her life like this.

Bucky actually thought about it and he didn’t hate the idea. Taking her out with him would ensure her safety. He would be by her side and he would protect her. He also liked the thought of taking her out and properly courting her even if she didn’t know that that was what he was doing.

He said he didn’t want to kill her spirit by keeping her in here and she gave him the solution.

“Okay.” Bucky nodded at her with a smile.

“Okay?” She exclaimed happily, not believing Bucky would actually take her out to see around.

“Okay.” He nodded again reassuringly, her happiness making him laugh.

“Well, don’t you have tomorrow off?” She asked suggestively, gesturing to his hand.

Bucky laughed, nodding, “put your shoes on.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” She involuntarily gave his healing hand a squeeze, kissing his cheek before running to get her shoes.

Bucky swallowed hard, hoping he would be able to hold himself together and not completely melt under her sweet company.

“You’ve got to promise me though,” he said.

She looked at him questioningly as she slipped one foot into a shoe.

“No running away, little human.”

“No running away. Promise.” She promised, shaking her head with a shy smile.

Bucky smiled big, taking her smaller hand in his as she grabbed her basket in the other, ready to browse the market with her husband.

Her husband. That was starting to sound unquestionably comforting.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

“What?” She tilted her head with a grin.

“You owe me a kiss,” Bucky said, his tone serious.

“No, I don’t! If anything, I just gave you an extra kiss!”

“Yes, you do. From that morning. You’re still one kiss behind!”

“I just made up for it!”

“Doesn’t count. That one covers the night before.” Bucky shrugged, a smile etched on his lips.

“Okay, fine.” She kissed Bucky’s cheek, “stop going around saying other girls’ names though.”

Bucky laughed, “I only know one!”

“Still too many,” she whispered under her breath, but Bucky heard it, smiling from ear to ear as he took his hand in hers, taking the right path out of the woods. ~ It was a beautiful afternoon, full of warm sunshine and fruitful deals. She has got some pretty good stuff for really good prices.

She couldn’t believe Bucky actually gave her pocket money.

He didn’t want her to have to ask him for money every time something caught her eye. He wanted her independent, fulfilled and brave as she bought herself whatever her heart desired.

Her heart was so full and her smile was inerasable.

Bucky didn’t let go of her hand all day and she actually liked it so much that she never complained. The feel of his calloused skin against her soft palm wasn’t like anything she has felt before.

She didn’t want to let go of his hand even while looking at the different stands and booths at the market.

But she eventually liked the flower stand too much and told Bucky she would take a look at them while he continued buying them the fruits he was picking.

“Good afteroon,” a smooth voice interrupted her admiration of the potted plants before her, making her look up for a second.

“Good afternoon.” She smiled coyly.

“Any favorites?” The handsome man inside the booth asked her.

“All of them,” she giggled softly, the sound catching Bucky’s ears at once.

The man laughed back, “okay, I think I have something special for you. How about this one?” He brought her a purple flower from the batch hidden behind him inside the booth.

“Oh, how beautiful! What is this one?” She wondered, amazement sparkling in her eyes at the sight of the pretty petals.

“That is a Globemaster Allium. Pretty, isn’t she?” He asked, staring at her desirously as she looked at the flower.

“Yes, she’s stunning!”

“I’m Cole by the way—”

She heard Bucky clear his throat next to her and looked up at once, the innocent awe in her eyes softening the orc a little.

“Look, Bucky! Isn’t this the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” She pointed to the flower pot excitedly.

Bucky leaned in, his frown scaring her a little, her breath hitching when his lips tickled the shell of her ear, “no, little human, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

She chocked on her own saliva, hiding her hot face with her hand as she coughed, “Bucky!” She whined with a shy smile.

Where did that come from!

“Let’s go,” Bucky said with a nod of his head, eyes stern as he glared at Cole.

“Can—” She held his wrist, “can I have it?” She asked softly, gesturing to the flower pot.

Bucky wanted to say no. He didn’t want her to have this farmer’s flower. But he couldn’t say no to those hopeful, beautiful eyes of hers.

“Fine.” He watched her get the money out of her pocket and she smiled gratefully as she almost set them down on Cole’s counter.

“It’s on the house,” Cole said, still smiling dreamily at her.

She could all but swallow as she gave a polite smile back before looking up at Bucky for help.

“Take your goddamn money.” Bucky made a quick job of paying for the flower, taking the money from her and slamming it on the counter, making the whole booth shake.

He quickly took his wife home, deciding that was enough socialization for the both of them for the day.

She wasn’t going to lie, she was loving jealousy on her orc. It felt so intoxicating to have someone love her so much that he was jealous of other men talking to her.

She wouldn’t tell Bucky, but she would probably spend the nights of the next week smiling at the wall every time she remembered how he held her hand back home just a little bit tighter that day.

Her own heart was running wild at the sight of the orc now and she didn’t want it any other way.

~

“Now you know how it feels,” she teased with a smile as they were getting ready for bed.

Bucky couldn’t let it go, talking about how they were never going to stop by that farmer’s flower booth ever again.

“That’s not the same! I was never into Sarah! But that man was openly ogling you!” Bucky grumbled, his frown digging deep into the skin of his forehead.

“He was just being nice, trying to sell his flowers,” she laughed, upsetting Bucky even more.

How couldn’t she see it? The guy was all over her!

“He was flirting and you were all giggles and blushes.” Bucky copied her, going to the bed and burying himself under the covers, facing the wall.

He understood now why she had done that.

“Hey, that’s my spot!” She joked, not knowing if Bucky was being serious.

“Not tonight,” he murmured from underneath the covers.

“Bucky,” she whined, uncovering her orc’s face.

Bucky didn’t reply, pushing himself closer to the wall.

She tried to bring him on his back by the shoulder like he so easily did her a couple of night ago, but he was too strong for her and his body wouldn’t budge.

She huffed, “okay, you left me no choice.”

Bucky remained still, wanting to see what she meant by that as he felt her shift behind him.

Before he knew it, she was on top of his bicep, trying to slot herself between his body and the wall.

“What on earth—”

“You started it, Bucky!” She said, voice determined as she kept pushing, trying to squeeze herself in the small space accessible.

Bucky looked at her in amusement for a second before moving back, making her body drop as larger space became available.

She landed with the tiniest “ouff” on the mattress, facing Bucky on her side with her back to the wall, its coolness helping soothe the heat rising to the surface of her skin.

That was the closest she had been to Bucky since their hug the night of his injury, face to face as his passionate sapphire eyes watched hers.

“Hi,” she whispered, heart in her throat.

“Hi,” Bucky replied with a charming smile, smoothing some of her ruffled strands back in place.

She stared at the orc’s eyes, not the slightest bit scared of the fact that she was trapped against the wall by his huge body.

“You’re not the only one who wants to be loyal to this marriage, Bucky,” she said, surprising Bucky and herself, “I don’t want the farmer. I don’t want anyone else.” but you.

Bucky smiled in disbelief, taken aback by her words, and she took it as permission to move closer to his chest. He instinctively wrapped her up in a protective hug, wondering how he was able to hold himself back from kissing her.

She pushed her face into her orc’s chest, his scent and warmth engulfing her into a protective bubble.

She couldn’t believe she said the words she has just said and it made her bury her burning face deeper in Bucky’s arms.

He could only hug her tighter, his nose in her sweet-smelling hair as his smile grew bigger.

This moment right there was everything Bucky has ever wished for. He could die a happy orc right then and there.

~

It became a habit for them to go out to the village on Bucky’s day off. They were both having a great time, getting closer and falling harder.

Cole hasn’t spoken to her again after learning that the snow orc was actually her husband, and she respected Bucky’s feelings and never approached Cole’s booth no matter how pretty the plants on his stand were.

Market outings were their thing now and she wasn’t going to let anything ruin that.

She didn’t want anyone else’s attention but Bucky’s anyway. His hand has almost fully healed and she could now squeeze it all she wanted whenever she got excited about anything they encountered.

One thing did occur that annoyed her though and that was the way the jewelry lady would look at her every time she and Bucky would pass by. The woman had so much pity in her eyes when she saw her hand in an orc’s and she hated it.

She despised the way people misjudged her orc when he was far better than any human man she could’ve ever ended up with.

Yet, the lady kept giving her those pitiful looks, probably thinking Bucky had enslaved her or something.

But enough was enough.

When Bucky was busy looking at the knives, she made her way to the jewelry lady, determined to put an end to the ridiculousness.

“He is my husband,” she sternly told the lady in the jewelry stand, taking the chance that Bucky wasn’t listening.

“Oh.” The lady quickly gave a kind smile, turning from concerned about her to happy for her, “I apologize for misjudging you, dear. I was only worried about you. We’ve all heard stories about him.”

“Well, that’s all they are. Stories.” She ferociously defended, her eyes still stern.

“I’m sorry,” the woman sincerely expressed her regret, squeezing her hand.

She nodded with a small smile, accepting the older woman’s apology.

“I don’t see a ring on your hand.” The jewelry lady gestured to the collection of rings in her glass box with a wink.

“Oh.”

The sentence caught Bucky’s ears as he turned away to look at her embarrassed face.

“We didn’t get time to buy one. It all happened so quickly,” she explained awkwardly and Bucky’s expression fell.

“I have a pretty collection if you wanna take a look, and don’t worry about the price,” the older lady suggested kindly.

“No, it’s okay—”

“Choose what you like, sweet thing,” Bucky whispered to her, immediately by her side when he saw her eyes skimming over the jewelry, “I’m sorry I’m not familiar with the human marriage traditions. I should’ve gotten you one sooner.”

“It’s okay, Bucky. You don’t have to,” she reassured with a tender smile.

She didn’t need a ring to know that she was Bucky’s.

“I want to. I want you to wear my ring, little human.” Bucky raised her hands to his lips, placing the softest kisses on her each finger.

Her heart surged as a shy smile spread on her lips, heat rising to her cheeks.

“Okay.” She nodded happily, feeling like she was in a dream and she never wanted to wake up.

Though very expensive, Bucky ended up buying her the ring she chose. It was the prettiest gold ring with a moss agate blue diamond.

She tried to talk him out of it, wanting to pick something cheaper, but Bucky wouldn’t have it.

She has never felt as special as she felt with Bucky’s ring on her finger. It was the prettiest thing from the most handsome orc.

And in that very moment, she was the happiest that she trusted her gut; that she gave Bucky, and herself a chance for this marriage to be something more than a contractual deal.

Bucky couldn’t believe she has finally let him make her his. When he slipped that ring on her tiny finger, he felt like he was king of the world.

While walking back to their cottage, a new dream got unlocked inside of her, one that included her and Bucky and their very own little stand in the market.

“Can we stop by the shop before we go home?” She asked tentatively.

“Sure, why? Did you forget something there yesterday?”

She has been to the shop a couple of times, curious to meet the important people in Bucky’s life and possibly have friends of her own, too.

“No, just wanna show Sarah the ring,” she said, a shy smile lighting up her happy face.

Bucky brought her hand to his lips, kissing her ring finger this time, “to the shop it is.”

~

Everything was going amazingly and she wished with all her heart that it would stay that way, but unfortunately, the very next day was a day for another fight that none of them saw coming.

Bucky still hasn’t recovered from her little stunt a few weeks ago and today he came back to find the cottage empty again.

He should have locked the door. He shouldn’t have trusted that a ring on her finger might stop her old habits or give her a magical change of heart.

What about all the small moments she had shared? Did those mean nothing to her?

Bucky’s anger and feeling of betrayal wiped away everything nice that had happened between the two of them, only remembering that she never wanted to be here in the very first place.

“Why are you so adamant about making me lose my mind?” Bucky asked, pushing her inside and slamming the door behind them.

“I’m not! Would you just listen?!” She yelled back, startled by the harsh treatment.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Bucky shouted as if he didn’t hear her.

“I was just—”

“Wandering through the forest alone is dangerous, I’ve told you time and again, and yet you keep doing it!”

“Would you listen to me?!” 

“No! You acted like you would stop running, so what changed?!” Bucky threw his big arms in the air, making her take a step back.

Bucky looked bigger than he usually did when he was livid like that.

“I wasn’t running!” She repeated, her voice tinged with anger of her own at the distrust.

“Stop lying!” Bucky growled, roughly grabbing her by the arm.

“I’m not lying,” she insisted as she tried not to wince at the way Bucky held her forearm, her jaw clenched defiantly.

“Then what were you doing up the hill, huh?” Bucky unconsciously squeezed her arm harder.

“You’re hurting me.” She tried to pull away, but Bucky wouldn’t release her.

“You think you’re the only one who has fucking feelings?” Bucky shook her in his hold, unintentionally bruising her further.

She cried out but it fell on deaf ears, “Bucky, let me go!”

“Do you think what you do doesn’t affect me just because I’m not a goddamn human?!” He forced her closer, making her tears fall as he barked in her face.

His words hung heavy in the air, echoing through the spacious room.

“Bucky, please,” she tried again, not wanting to fight anymore.

Bucky finally listened, suddenly shocked at his actions as he let her arm go.

It’s been so long since he had made her cry and he just ruined everything good he had worked on building with her.

She just stood there, whimpering in pain as she held her arm to her chest.

Bucky watched her roll the sleeve of her winter dress up to look at her arm and there they were: thick fingerprints on her flesh.

“I— I’m sorry,” he whispered, trying to get closer to look at her arm, swallowing hard.

To his surprise, she let him.

“I’m sorry, little human.” Bucky wiped a few of her tears away, regret evident in his voice.

“I wasn’t running,” she repeated, pushing her hands in the pockets of her dress, “I was collecting berries to decorate the cake I made earlier.” She pulled handfuls of now ruined wild strawberries, raspberries and blackberries out of her pockets and dropped them on the wooden table for him to see.

She left Bucky alone to stare at the berries and went to the kitchen.

And boy did he stare.

He felt so stupid and ashamed at the way he had reacted. He just hurt her and she wasn’t even trying to leave. He wouldn’t let her explain either and had unjustly judged her.

She got out a cold water bottle from the fridge, pushing it to her bruised arm.

Bucky walked into the kitchen, shame branded on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, not knowing what to do to correct his mistake.

“What do you think?!” She irritably snapped at him, waving her bruised arm in the air.

“I just wanted to help!” Bucky barked back.

“Well, I don’t want your help!” She shouted.

“Fine! Don’t want it!” Bucky walked out, his feet stomping on the wooden floors.

He stormed out of the cottage, violently slamming the door behind him.

Bucky then realized what he has just done and how he had made the situation even worse. He kicked a rock so hard he was sure it flew to the other side of the forest as he saw birds flying disruptively.

“Damn it!” He yelled out loud, slamming his fist to the door, making her flinch inside the cottage.

The fight between the orc’s rough exterior and his rather tender feelings for her was torturing Bucky. What he meant to show was that he cared about her and was worried for her, but instead he’d done what he’d done.

She, on the other side of the wall, irately got out of the kitchen with the trash bin and swept the berries from the table, throwing them in the garbage.

When Bucky got inside again, she was cleaning the stain of the berries from the table, her features still twisted in a frown.

He opened his mouth, trying to think of anything he could say to fix this, but nothing came out. With a sigh, he left the cottage once more, leaving her all alone.

She sat down with a huff, throwing the cloth in her hand across the room.

She let her tears run in frustration.

It was supposed to be a peaceful night where they enjoyed a delightful desert that she has worked hard on making and was going to work hard on decorating.

She was trying to start a life with him. Why did he have to ruin it like that? She wasn’t running. How could she make him believe her?

She desperately wanted, needed Bucky to trust her.

She cried harder, feeling helpless in the face of her orc’s rage as her heart clenched at the thought of a happiness gone so soon.

Part V

~

Tag List:

@harrysthiccthighss @tinystudentfirepurse @lavendercitizen @tumblin-theworldaway @pretty-pop-princess-hs @lilymurphy03 @idontwannagomrstarkk @glxwingrxse @littlelioncub43 @mathletemadison @canned-rootbear @pandaxnienke @loveisallyouneed1125 @floral-recs @littlemoonkiller @hallecarey1 @vespasianphantom @vicmc624 @winters1917 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @blkmystery @millercontracting @trappedwriter @am-3-thyst @obsessedwithquinn @sydnielauryn @alittlerayof-pitchblack @olipiaa @peterparkersgirl-blog @buckybarnessweetheart @thealyrs @colorfulbluebirdpainter @stuckysgirl27 @ihavetwoholesforareason @princess-bee0 @pastel-noah168 @steeph-aniie @buckitostan @onthr-dream @sapphirebarnes @123iloveyou456 @ciaqui @lindasweetie @justherefortheficandsmut @xxdiaqiaoxx @morgthemagpie @wintrsoldrluvr @goldylions @serendipitouslife90 @sebastians-love @leelee1234love

[lostgirlmuseum]

Dancing Spies

Pairing: Bucky x gn!Reader 

Words: 900

Summary: You and Bucky are undercover at a ball and he’s not ready to let go of you.

Warnings: Reader is mentioned to have hair + height implied to be shorter than Bucky. Idc how tall you are, you're 6 feet? OK well in this universe Bucky is 7ft, etc lol. No use of y/n.

A/N: IM BACK BABY! Ok not really lmao this was 90% written since April 2022 (holy shit over a year before I even started posting here.) As always, sorry it’s short, sorry if it sucks, but also I’m not that sorry if it sucks because it’s short so it’s not like I’m wasting hours of your time. Idk if anyone is even going to read this.

Also: special thanks to @questionableratatouille00 for being so patient and kind to me. ❤️

divider cred: @saradika

“I didn’t realize you could dance,” you mumbled into his ear as you stepped in time to the soft music.

“Well, there wasn’t that much to do in the 30’s,” Bucky adjusted his grasp on your waist to be more comfortable, “with, y’know, the Great Depression and everything.”

“Ah, yes, a time of great prosperity, wasn’t it?”

“Definitely.” He gave a short chuckle, and continued to gaze around at the other couples dancing around him. He wasn’t avoiding your gaze—he was simply doing his job. At least, that’s what he tried to convince himself. 

A sweet chorus of piano and violin flew through the air, enchanting the large group of people into following in time. Despite his watchful eyes lingering upon the room for the past ten minutes, he couldn’t tell you any details.

How many couples were there? What was everyone wearing? How big was the dance hall? He could only guess, as his mind was solely focused on his steps, and the person in front of him: how close you stood next to him, how he could smell the faintest scent of lavender from your hair, how your hand sat so tenderly upon his shoulder, and how he wished he could take his gloves off so he could get a better feel of your gentle hand intertwined with his right. 

“How much longer, do you think?” you whispered.

“M’ not sure. Until Steve gives the signal, which could be anywhere from now to twenty minutes.” He only allowed himself a quick glance of you as he twirled you outward and back in.

“I doubt it’ll be twenty minutes. I think ten is more reasonable.” 

“It could be twenty,” he argued.

“That would be way too long, there’s too much risk in that.”

“Twenty minutes is fine. There’s nothing wrong with twenty minutes.”

Sensing you were looking at him, he met your gaze. 

Your eyebrow was slightly arched, and you gave him a small look of confusion at his strange… passion. Nevertheless, you dropped it, deciding not to question him.

He felt a slight tug of guilt at his heart for acting weird, but truthfully, he simply hoped this moment wouldn’t end. It felt right. He didn’t want to accept that it could be over so soon.

Naturally, as if the entire room was choreographed, everyone slowed as the song ended, and another started. This song was even slower than the last, and couples pulled each other close accordingly. 

You and Bucky did the same. 

Bucky’s breath hitched at the closer proximity, and he prayed you couldn’t feel his rapid heartbeat now that you were practically chest to chest, and both your arms were wrapped around his shoulders as his rested on your waist.

“Hey Bucky,” you said so quietly, it was barely a whisper.

“Yes?”

“I get that you’re trying to be alert, but you need to stop looking behind me. It’s not natural.” 

His cheeks flushed at your comment, though he wasn’t entirely sure why.

“Yeah, okay.” He hesitantly looked down and met your welcoming eyes.

“Better,” you softly smiled.

He curtly nodded.

They continued to slowly sway along with the music. But the tune only served as white noise for him as he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. Luckily, you hadn’t caught him staring, since you had placed your cheek onto his chest, nuzzling into the warmth. 

He liked that you felt safe with him. Safe enough to rest your head on him. Safe enough to let him hold you with both hands, and not cower at what those hands had once done. 

His shoulders relaxed at the sound of a soft sigh from your lips.

“Comfortable?” He leaned his head down slightly to whisper into your ear.

“Mhm.” You confirmed.

“Tired?” He breathily laughed, seeing your eyes closed.

“Only a little,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes shut. 

He was content with where he was. It wasn’t the most familiar feeling for him, but he liked it. 

His thoughts were no longer focused on the mission(not that they ever really were—the second he found out that the two of you were meant to be a couple dancing on the main floor, he was distracted by you and the possibilities of what would happen,) and he remained focused on you. Your soft and slowing exhales, the affection you spawned in his chest, and how beautiful your hair looked. 

Seeing you at peace, put him at peace.

He could feel himself smiling as he watched you. His tongue flicked over his lips like it always does when he’s about to make a decision. He started to lean his head down to rest on top of your head when he paused.

Is this a good idea?

Screw it.

He rested his chin ever so carefully on your head, and couldn’t hold back his growing smile when you made no effort to move.

“I wish this was real life,” you sighed. “No more fighting. Just dancing.”

Motion from above caught his attention. Steve tipped his hat—the signal. 

Bucky just looked back. He continued to sway with you, shielding you from the outside world with his chest. 

Steve, slightly taken aback at his friend’s lack of action, tipped his hat twice more.

Bucky subtly shook his head and returned his gaze to you.

“Have we gotten the signal yet?” You murmured, eyes still closed.

“Not yet,” he whispered. “Let’s just dance.”

If you liked it pls let me know so I know I'm not just screaming into the void.

photo credit

[endless-ineffabilities]

The Bolter (part three)

Steve Rogers x f!reader

synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?

in this chapter : The reader returns to New York for the first time after Steve left, reuniting with Bucky. We see a little more of what the reader and Steve went through while on the run.

themes/warnings : pining, tension, unrequited love, two sad saps (reader and Bucky) trying to get over trauma and heartache :(, language, brief mention of injuries

word count : <2k

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2024, three months after Steve's departure

You just finished your second mission since the final battle.

Since Tony. Since Nat.

Since... him.

Only three months, or rather, three long months. You don't know why Sam was worried that you are apparently overworking yourself.

He keeps calling you up, checking in from time to time, making sure that you are allowing yourself to relax. Have a little break. Stay with them in New York for a while. Maybe even have a couple of sessions with the therapist Bucky is seeing.

He must have done a darn good job at convincing you, or maybe you were just exhausted, because you arrive back in New York soon enough.

And Bucky comes knocking on your door not long after.

Your eyes meet, both of you blocking your doorway. Not a single word needs to be said - the understanding you two share runs much deeper.

Two kindred abandoned souls and whatnot.

You step aside to let him through and close the door behind him. His hair is trimmed shorter now, and with his getup, he could pass as just another civilian. It takes another beat of silence before he finally asks, "So how are you?"

You snort at how ridiculous his question sounds. He knows. "How are you?" you counter, eyebrows raised in a challenge.

"Touché," he says, shrugging off his leather jacket and placing it atop your kitchen island. He knows his way around. He's been here before, on the many nights you both shared drinks with Natasha, Sam and... him.

Damn it. You curse internally. It's okay, his name was Steve. He's not the fucking boogeyman.

He gives you a quick once over, immediately noticing that you're putting a lot of your weight on your left leg.

"I fell out a window," you sigh.

"Fuck's sake," he grimaces, shaking his head.

"Hey, we can't all be super soldiers, Buck. My muscles are just a bit softer than yours."

He presses on, still concerned, "Checked in for your physical yet?"

"Booked it for tomorrow," you respond. "But it shouldn't be too bad."

You feel his eyes continue to scan you, but in a non-invasive way. He's checking for more injuries, more signs of wear and tear. He's a lot like Steve, but his gaze is different, less commanding.

More broken.

"Anything new?" you have to ask to distract yourself, and he picks up on it right away. About Steve. He hasn't shown up like he said he would. You had been dreading it - the possibility of seeing a much older Steve, after he got to live out his life in this timeline.

He promised he would try and find you. A version of him, at least. White-haired and wrinkled and weary, but still your Steve. He said you would see him again, in what would be his future and your present, and say a real goodbye. Maybe even tell you all about his life and his girl.

You thought you blocked all that out, but sadly it did not slip your mind. You remember. And you didn't want to be there when it happens.

But nothing did, and you didn't know whether to be worried or relieved.

"Nothing," Bucky shakes his head. "But Dr. Banner is keeping track on whether there are any anomalies in the timeline, specifically in where Steve went back. Everything seems to be normal."

He's fine, and he finally got his normal. And you should let go.

As if he can read your mind, Bucky says, "It's hard to let go, isn't it?"

He's struggling. Of course he is. Bucky also has an old skin to shed, and bones to bury. You never encountered the Winter Soldier back in the day, but you heard of him.

Once you got to know Bucky, you never needed to know anything else. This is who he really is, and he's a good person. He's your friend.

And Steve trusted him. He believed in him. That would have been enough in your eyes, if anything.

"What makes you think I haven't let go yet?" you smile weakly.

He exhales, smiling back. Because, he seems to say, I know you.

Stepping forward, he opts for putting a hand on your shoulder first, unsure. He squeezes gently once, but then changes his mind and pulls you in for a hug at the last second, careful not to add any stress on your leg.

It takes the breath out of you, with his vibranium arm wrapped around your midtorso.

"I'm glad you're back," he mumbles against your hair.

Bucky knows that only you would really understand. The others, maybe they loved Steve too. Admired him. But it was different with the two of you.

Clint can move on with his family. Sam has his new responsibilties. Thor is out of world. Wanda has her own burden to bear. The world will go on as it always has.

But not for us, you think. As he held you tight, you decide that you will help Bucky through it. You will make sure that he gets the peace that he deserves and he is able to let go of Steve. Even if doesn't happen for you, this would be enough.

You offer him a drink after a moment, and he accepts without hesitation.

This is how it starts. This is how the two of you begin to move on.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

2017, ten months after the Avengers' Civil War

"Where were you?" Steve's voice came from somewhere in the room. He was seated in the small living room of your shared cabin, blinds drawn shut, almost out of sight.

You twisted around, and let your duffel bag fall to the floor. Squeezing the bridge of your nose, you let out a shaky breath. "What the hell, Steve, you nearly scared me."

You rummaged through the cupboard, looking for your stashed whiskey. "Nearly," you repeated in jest, when you heard him making his way to you.

You got a much better look at him then. His hair had darkened due to its length, and his beard was thicker. You were going to need several swigs of hard alcohol to resist jumping his bones.

"I was worried," he said, and his tone was gentler. It made you feel guilty, and you didn't know why. "I came back from Wakanda and you were gone."

"I wasn't gone, Steve. Sam needed help getting away with something, you know how it is. We don't exactly have a set schedule on when and where to go, given our fugitive status."

"I know, I know," he said right away, frustrated. What's wrong with him? "But you could have called, left a note - "

"A note could have been intercepted."

" - anything. Just to let me know how you are. You could have been taken in for all I know - "

"You really think I would let them take me in?"

He threw a stern glare your way, propping a hand on his hip. Based on his stance, you thought of how it looked like Captain America was about to give you a good scolding.

But you beat him to it. You were just too tired, and your arm was killing you. "Look, Steve, I had to help Sam and you were still in Wakanda checking up on Bucky. I didn't think it was a big deal. I thought I would be back here by the time you - "

"What's wrong with your arm?" he interrupted you, his practiced eyes easily noticing the damage, and reached for your forearm. "Take your jacket off."

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head before you can catch yourself. "What?" you squeaked, but you knew just what he meant.

Steve was on full Captain mode, always looking out for anyone he feels responsible for. That's all it was. You had to remind your hopeful self that it was nothing more.

His hands were waiting by the neckline of your jacket, asking for permission. Ever so polite, even when his mood is sour.

You can ignore a lot of things, compartmentalize your emotions. You're used to it all, not getting too attached to anyone or anything as a result of your chosen life.

But you couldn't ignore the burning feeling his fingertips left behind as they grazed your skin. When he guided you to the couch so he can take a better look at the bruises on your arm, you were seated close. The closest you've ever been to each other, but he didn't look fazed at all.

Of course not. This doesn't mean the same to him, as it does to me.

You watched him the entire time, his long eyelashes almost grazing his cheek as he looked down at his work. His brows furrowed in concentration. Once in a while, he mumbled something that sounded like, never should've happened, or gotta watch out next time.

It didn't take long for him to fix you up nicely, your arm disinfected and wrapped in gauze.

After you thanked him, you stood from the seat, ready to compartmentalize that moment too. Because that was not the time to go falling for anyone, especially not someone who was just too good for you.

But he grabbed your hand before you walked away, looking up at you as he stayed seated.

"Steve?" There it was again, that burning. That warmth. If he didn't notice the goosebumps on your skin before, you were sure he saw them then.

"I - " he hesitated, before finally deciding on, "I'm glad you're okay."

You tilted your head, smiling. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, y'know."

His worried and serious expression drops and he smiled, eyes all crinkled.

And that was one sight you won't ever be able to ignore.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

A week later, Natasha dropped by. Sporting a brand new white-blonde hairdo that suited her just as fine as her signature red.

You teased her about it, saying how she must have been waiting for an opportunity like this to have an excuse to drastically switch out her hairstyle.

The two of you sat on the bench on the patio while Steve chopped up wood in the distance, looking like a right ol' lumberjack.

He looked too damn good, and it annoyed you. He wasn't making any of it easy.

"You could switch your hair out too, you know. It helps in going incognito," she reached over and twirled a strand of your hair.

You swatted her hand away playfully, grinning, "Oh, but my face is too memorable so it might not even work."

"Oh really?" she smiled, with that mischievous glint in her eye. "Well, Steve certainly seems to think so."

"Uh, what do you mean?"

"He looks at you like you're his sun or something," she stretched out, amused by the obvious rush of blood to your face.

You shook your head profusely, because of how wrong you thought her assumptions were. "He looks at me because there's no one else around here to look at. Not for at least fifty miles or even more."

"Honey, please. It's my job to know these things."

"Oh, is it now?"

"Mhmm," she patted your knee, tilting her head in Steve's direction without turning to look at him. "I'm willing to bet Tony's LA mansion that he's looking at you right now."

"No, he's not - "

"Then prove me wrong."

But you turned, and you couldn't prove her wrong.

Your eyes met Steve's and when he realized your attention was on him, he simply smiled.

Like you were his sun, Natasha had said. But she was a bit off the mark.

You were never Steve's sun, but he was yours.

Read part four here ~

taglist (let me know if you wish to be added!) : @vicmc624 @littleliyah16 @babezawa @klammykayla @justsebstan @blue--ingenue @numblytemporary @bradshawass @delicious-xx

It will be a bit more of jumping back and forth through time, before we see everyone back together (even Steve? 🤷🏻‍♀️)

It's the start of a potential Bucky x reader. I gotta be careful here because I might just flip and want the reader to be with him instead.. who could ever look over Bucky???? He's going to make it hard for us that's for sure.

[urdepressedslut]

The Collection

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky arrives home and panics when he notices you calling for him from your room, but upon entering— he realizes what you have been getting yourself into.

♡ Warnings: superrrrr fluffyyyy 🥹, slight panic, hints to paranoia, hints to PTSD, hints to bucky’s trauma, overall a comfort drabble

main masterlist

A/N: i have been adding to my own squish mallow collection and thought of this 🥰 i’m unhealthily obsessed with squish mallows

Arriving back at your shared apartment, Bucky couldn’t help but notice the amount of time xtra large bags on the kitchen counter. He furrowed his brows in confusion and wandered to the fridge. Opening it in inspection, he didn’t see anything new or added.

You hadn’t gone grocery shopping…

He could hear faint shuffling from your shared room, and he couldn’t help but panic. His mind was brilliant at creating a problem from nothing. He was a professional over thinker— and sometimes it threatened to make his heart give out.

“Baby? I’m home!” He announced, shimmying off his jacket and making his way to the bedroom.

“James! Come quick— you gotta see something!” You said urgently.

He automatically thought the worst and all his suspicions were suddenly coming through. Visions of you hurt came to mind and he practically sprinted and busted through the door. The knob slamming into the wall with a loud thud.

“(Y/n)? You okay?!” He asked panicked.

His body relaxed at your calm state, only the look of confusion on your face. With a quick scan— he noticed there was nothing wrong with the room or you. In fact, if anything was different— it were the many new plushies on the bed.

Releasing a breath that he didn’t know he was holding in, and ran a hand through his hair.

“James honey— you alright? Just wanted to show you my new squishmallows.” You asked him worried, walking over to stand next to him.

Truthfully, if anything he was embarrassed that he’d let himself get in his head again. But after finding you perfectly fine, and organizing your plushies— which he found adorable— he felt fine. He was only happy that you were okay.

“M’fine baby, just thought you were in trouble is all.” He told you honestly.

You softened your gaze to him, grabbing his hand and hiding him to the bed. You gently pushed him down to sit, and he did so willingly.

“I didn’t mean to sound all panicky— was just excited to show you the new ones I got today!” You told him, smiling like the cheshire cat.

He chuckled, leaning back on his hands as he looked down at the medium sized squishmallows.

“You know— this is considered an addiction.” He pointed out.

You scoffed, waving him off like it was no big deal.

“Some consider it a hobby actually.” You defended.

He raised his brows in amusement, chuckling again when he saw you being so defensive. He thought you were adorable.

“You’re so cute.” He said out loud, causing your face to grow hot.

After all this time— he was still easily able to make you blush, flustered from his compliments.

You shook off the flush in your face, choosing to pick up a new squishmallow to show him. You held up a medium sized seal squishmallow, to which Bucky smiled at.

“This is a seal one, his name is Remmy.” You told him.

Bucky grabbed it from your hands, giving it a test hug and holding it while you grabbed another one. Next was a longhorn squishmallow, with a ring dangling from its nose.

“This is a bull one, his name is Shep.” You told him, giving it a hug and then passing it to Bucky.

You held back a giggle, Bucky holding the plushies to his chest an adorable sight. Such a tough man with these cute stuffed animals.

“I like his horns.” He noted, fiddling with the plushie.

You picked up the last one, being a bird squishmallow. You smiled wide as you looked at it, this one being your favorite.

“This is my favorite of the three. I think he’s a hawk or something, and his name is Sam.” You explained.

Bucky’s eyes went wide and he started laughing, dropping the other plushies on the bed, he reached out and grabbed the hawk and inspected it.

“Sam, really?” He asked chuckling.

You nodded your head with a sly smile.

“Does our Sam know about this?” He asked again.

“Definitely not— but I’m sure he’d appreciate it.” You told him.

You two laughed at the goofiness and you ended up being pulled by Bucky into the bed. He wrapped you up in his arms and the two of you started cuddling— just melting into each others embrace. The squishmallows surrounded you two while you both drifted off to sleep.

Nothing felt more perfect, nothing felt more right than being in his arms.

“Love you baby.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head.

“Love you more James.” You mumbled into his chest.

TAGLIST: @billy-reads @potatothots @buckyb-stan @kmc1989 @silverfire13 @ghostofwinter @hanihoney88 @stilesofhannah @skittle479 @marvelogic @meetmeatyourworst @engie115 @wilsons-striped-ties @x209x @kandis-mom @l0kilaufeys0n7

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [13] - Cupcakes

A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: There are many ways to plan a wedding.

Word Count: 2500

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, stabbing, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

Apparently, the fact that you had been in a car chase with bullets flying around last night didn’t change the fact that you had to go cake tasting the next morning.

Even if you were in desperate need of some sleep.

Bucky had brought you back into the honeymoon suit last night and put around twenty bodyguards in the hallway before leaving, and even if you wanted to go with him to question the captives, you were way too tired to do so. Since he was nowhere to be found in the suit after you woke up, you figured he had gone to his apartment instead of here after he was done. You heaved a sigh as you filled your cup with coffee, then walked to sit down on the couch and pulled your phone up to check the schedule for the day. Taking a sip of your coffee, you sent a quick text to Becca, and looked over your shoulder when you heard the door open.

Bucky offered you a small smile as he stepped into the hotel suit, and you tilted your head.

“Hey,” you said. “I was wondering where you were.”

“Hey,” he rasped out, exhaustion laced in his tone and you frowned slightly.

“Why do you look like you haven’t slept last night?”  

Bucky shook his head, making his way to the coffee pot before grabbing a cup from the cabinet.

“Because I haven’t—” He stopped talking when he looked down at the red fingertip stains on the white porcelain cup he was holding, then cursed under his breath and went to wash his hands in the sink. You took a better look at him, now noticing the blood on his clothes and pulled back slightly.

“Bucky?”

“Not my blood,” he said. “I was uh—we were questioning the guys.”

“The whole night?”

“Mm hm,” he said, wiping his hands with a paper towel before grabbing another cup to pour himself some coffee. You leaned back to the kitchen island, cradling your cup in your palms.

“You should get some rest.”

“No time for that,” he said, taking a huge sip of his coffee. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and go to work. How do you feel? Could you get some sleep last night?”

“Are you trying to divert the subject?”

“Yeah, is it working?”

“No,” you deadpanned. “You need to sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak,” he joked, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Bucky.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I don’t,” you said quickly. “I don’t worry about you as a principle. It’s just that if you get sick because you haven’t slept or whatever, we’ll have to postpone the wedding and I know you haven’t met our wedding planner but she is not the type of person you cross.”

“Noted,” Bucky said. “Do you have any plans today?”

“I’m going cake tasting with Becca,” you said. “So did the guys say anything?”

“One of them will, eventually,” Bucky said. “We’re being very convincing.”

You hummed.  “Do you have a preference?”

“In weapons?”

You blinked a couple of times.

“In cakes,” you said. “Flavor wise.”

“Ah,” he said. “Sorry, my mind is still at the warehouse. Anything but banana.”

“Very helpful,” you muttered. “You don’t have a favorite flavor in cakes?”

“Not really, I’m good with all of them—” he started but his phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out, then his eyes skimmed the lines before he let out a groan.

“What?” you asked and he rubbed at his eyes.

“I forgot I had a meeting with Stark,” he said and cleared his throat. “Great, okay. So doing wedding stuff today then?”

“Yeah I gotta take a shower and get ready, but I can wait. You’re the one who looks like a horror movie killer.”

He grinned. “You know, if you ever wanted to save water…”

“You’re about to pass out from exhaustion and you can still make sex jokes?” you asked with your brows raised and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I have my priorities,” he said. “So if you—”

“That will never happen,” you pointed out. “Go.”

He held up his hands.

“Okay, okay…” he said as he climbed the stairs and you shook your head slightly when you heard the bathroom door close.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, taking another sip of your coffee. “Can’t believe I’m marrying him.”

                                             *

When you planned this cake tasting with Becca, you were sure it would be fun for you but safe to say, Becca’s mood wasn’t the best after last night. When you first talked about it, you had said Leila could join as well but since she wasn’t here, you could only guess they had a big talk last night, after the car chase incident.

“So,” you said as you sat down and grabbed the nearest cupcake, then read the label that informed you that it was walnut and carrot. “How have you been?”

“Fine,” Becca said, turning the cupcake in her hand and you pressed your lips together.

“How is Leila after last night?”

“Uh, she went to work,” Becca said, still staring at her cupcake. “And hasn’t texted me yet so I wouldn’t know.”

“Did she say anything last night?” you asked as you bit down on the cupcake, then shook your head and put it aside while Becca heaved a sigh.

“Yeah we talked.”

“And?”

“She says—I mean obviously she was terrified but she kept saying it wasn’t my fault.”

You hummed. “But you don’t believe her.”

“Well she has been in zero car chases with bullets flying around before she met me, so…” Becca trailed off and you reached out to hold her hand.

“Becca…”

“She’s going to leave me,” Becca said and cleared her throat. “You know what, she should leave me. That’s the right choice there.”

“Becca!”

“I never thought I’d say this, but maybe mom was right.”

You rolled your eyes. “I love Winnifred, but I wouldn’t take her advice on romance.”

“No no,” Becca said. “She kept saying this life is no fit for civilians, and she’s right.”

“You’re not even officially in the business,” you told her. “I mean I can see why being with a civilian would put them in danger if you’re one of the bosses, but you’re not. You don’t even want to be.”

“It doesn’t matter though,” Becca insisted. “I put my girlfriend in danger—”

“HYDRA put your girlfriend in danger,” you said. “And everyone is fine except those guys. I don’t know where Bucky took them but—”

“The usual warehouse.”

“Ah,” you said. “Well apparently he questioned them all night last night, so I can assure you that we’re taking revenge.”

“My girlfriend’s safety is more important to me than revenge,” she said and you pulled back slightly.

“Right,” you said. “No I know. But they’re never going to hurt anyone else, I assure you. And Leila is safe.”

She pursed her lips together and shut her eyes before squeezing at your hand.

“Sorry if that came out snappy.”

“No I get it,” you said. “Trust me.”

“It’s just…” she muttered and swallowed thickly. “Is this going to be the rest of my life? Always looking over my shoulder and worrying I might get someone killed?”

“Of course not,” you said in a rush. “No way. We had truce so far and it never happened before right? It’s just until we get rid of these assholes that we need to be extra careful, that’s all. After that, it will all be fine.”

She scoffed a small laugh.

“You sound like Bucky.”

“That might be the worst thing you ever said to me throughout our friendship,” you deadpanned and she let out a giggle.

“He looked pretty worried last night.”

“I mean I’d say so, you’re his little sister—”

“No no, for you,” she said. “We had a talk when he took me and Leila home.”

You pulled your brows together and shook your head.

“No way, Bucky doesn’t worry about me,” you said. “Why would he?”

Becca blinked a couple of times, and opened her mouth then closed it again to lean her fist on her lips, as if trying to control herself.

“Because we’re picking cakes for your wedding right now?”

“Oh yeah but that’s the only reason,” you said. “If I get killed, he will have to do business with Ian and he won’t do it so… It’s in his self-interest rather than my wellbeing.”

“I can’t believe I used to accuse Bucky of being oblivious.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Okay so, my relationship issues aside, let’s pick the perfect cake for you and my brother’s wedding that is completely pragmatical on both sides, nothing more.”

You nodded fervently, then turned to look at the table.

“Not the bananas though, apparently he doesn’t like banana flavor in cakes.”

Becca raised her brows and tried to bite back a smile.

“Right. Uh huh.”

“Anyways,” you said and grabbed the next cupcake. “Let’s do a pragmatical cake tasting then.”

                                                        *

By the time you were done with everything you were supposed to do, it was already evening. You and Becca had picked two cakes but you couldn’t be sure so you had asked the bakery to give you a box of them so that you could get Bucky’s opinion as well.

Even though the idea of making his slice banana flavored just to mess with him was tempting, you were going to play nice.

Well, as nice as you could.

You pulled over in front of the warehouse and left the car with your bodyguards following you. Bucky’s men rushed around as soon as they saw you walking there with the small bag thrown over your arm, and one of them opened the door to no doubt let Bucky know. You smiled at the men by the door.

“May I?”

“Of—of course ma’am,” one of them said, opening the door for you and you stepped inside to see Bucky approaching the door.

“Charm?”

“Hi there,” you said looking around the warehouse. You had been here a couple of times while you were still the heir, and it looked as huge as you remembered. You could see the tied up figured on the chair far away in the room as the familiar scent of blood hit your nostrils, and you scrunched up your face before turning to Bucky’s men. “Could you leave us please?”

They turned to look at Bucky who nodded, so they all left one by one, leaving you with him and the tied figure that almost looked unconscious. Bucky went to the table to grab a towel so that he could wipe his bloodied hands.

“What are you doing here?”

“Wedding stuff,” you said, putting the bag on the table to open the small cardboard box. “I’m supposed to let them know tonight about which flavor we picked, and I figured I wouldn’t have the time if you decide to spend the whole night here again.”

“Okay but—”

“Also what kind of a question is that? We’re getting married and I can’t visit you at work, asshole?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Here,” you cut him off by pushing a piece of cupcake into his mouth before he could say anything else and he pulled his brows together as he chewed on it, obviously deciding that arguing with you was useless.

“This is amazing,” he said. “What is this?”

“Lemon coconut,” you said as you tore a piece of the other cupcake in the box while he nodded.

“We can go with this one—”

“No so fast buddy, try this too,” you said, pushing the piece of the other cupcake into his mouth again and he chewed on it, deep in thought.

“And this?”

“Chocolate blueberry.”

“Fuck, this is a hard decision.”

“I know right?” you asked while the guy tied to the chair let out a whine. “I’m more leaning towards lemon coconut but…”

“Yeah no, chocolate blueberry is delicious too—why don’t we have two cakes?”

“Because the cake is symbolical Bucky!” you whispered while the guy let out another groan. “This marriage is going to require us to take some decisions about business together, how are we going to do that if we can’t decide on—shut it asshole!”

Bucky looked over his shoulder at the guy. “Yeah prick, we’re having a conversation here.”

“Fuck you,” the guy managed to wheeze out and Bucky shook his head slightly.

“You’d think he’d be more cooperative since I killed the other guy in front of him.”

You hummed, picking at the cupcake. “We are killing him too right?”

“Obviously, he put you and Becca in danger.”

“He also made Becca upset!” you said. “You know how I feel when people make Becca upset.”

Bucky popped the piece of cupcake into his mouth, then nodded his head.

“Lemon coconut it is,” he said. “Can I go back to beating the fuck out of him now?”

“Yeah don’t let me stop you,” you said and grabbed another cupcake from the box to follow him to the guy.

It was quite obvious that Bucky had broken every single bone in his face considering how he looked. Blood was dripping from his nose and mouth, his breaths were leaving his bloodied lips in pained groans but he still managed to look up at you while you leaned sideways to the column close to you, nibbling on the cupcake.

“Oh isn’t this the princess?” he said with great difficulty but let out a groan when Bucky grabbed his throat to squeeze it.

“I didn’t say you could look at her,” Bucky said calmly and you grinned.

“Hi there,” you said, chewing on the cupcake. “You seemed more confident while you were chasing me with a car, huh?”

The guy let out a choked noise and Bucky tilted his head, then pulled his hand back so that he could breathe again.

“You fucking bitch…” the guy started but he didn’t get to finish his sentence when Bucky punched him in the stomach, knocking the breath out of his lungs. He coughed while Bucky shook his head slightly.

“He just doesn’t learn,” he told you and you shrugged your shoulders.

“They never do,” you said, turning to the guy. “That was very rude by the way. Someone should teach you some manners.”

The guy scoffed and spat out blood.

“Maybe someone should teach you, you spoiled slut—”

He didn’t get to say anything else when Bucky pulled out his knife and rammed it right into his kneecap, making him let out a howl of pain.

“Maybe,” you said, your voice completely calm. “It’s not going to be you who teaches me anything though.”

He tried to catch his breath while you popped the rest of the cupcake into your mouth, then tilted your head.

“Bucky?”

He looked over his shoulder. “Yes sweetheart?”

“Make him do it again.”

Bucky shot you a grin and twisted the knife, the guy’s scream echoing through the warehouse again.

Chapter 14

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 11

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: it's a new week

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Your phone buzzes against your leg, ripping you back to reality. Your eyes widen and drift away from the stream of font. You sit up and mark the page with your finger as you reach for the jittering cell. 

You scramble to grab onto it and hesitate to hit the big green button. The screen doesn't look like usual, not that you get many calls. You tap the button and the image changes at once, Bucky startling you as he appears. 

"Hey, doll," he grins and winks at you, moving the camera to lean against something. "How's it going?" 

"Uhhhh," you drone, surprised. He can see you too. You know by the little reflection of yourself in the corner. "Hi. Fine." You put the book down with no mind to losing the page, "um, you?" 

"You busy, doll?" 

"Reading but... no." 

"Mm," he hums, "glad to see you enjoying your treats but... no pajamas?" 

He steps back and you get a view of him from waist up, the edge of a counter in the lower edge. You pout then give a sheepish smile, "sorry, I haven't... had a chance." 

"That's okay, doll, I just wanted a peek before I went to work," he undoes his shirt button by button and pulls it off, revealing his muscular torso. You gulp at the lines of his muscle along his stomach, "why don't you put them on now and give me a look." 

"Oh, uh..." you glance at the wall. It's late. You're pretty sure Roxie already left for work and your mom will probably be settling down. "Right, uh..." 

"Just want something to think of when I walk the floor," he purrs. 

"Sure, er," you nearly choke, "I'll just-- one sec." 

"I can wait, doll. I've been waiting, haven't I?" He purrs. 

You feel a pang of guilt. You place the phone down so the lens faces the ceiling and climb off the bed. He's given you a lot, too much honestly, and now you feel like you owe him. It isn't fair to take his kindness without anything in return. And he isn't asking much, is he? 

You dig in the bag, the crinkle loud as the only other noise is the subtle movement from his end. You fish out the soft pajamas and peer over, making certain the phone is still flat. You change far away from it, paranoid. 

You look down at yourself in the tank and shorts. Oh gosh. It's a lot less than you usually wear. Your legs are showing, your shoulders, and a bit of your tummy. 

"Doll?" He says and you flinch. 

"I don't know... I don't think it fits." 

"I'm sure it fits just nice," he insists, "show me." 

"Oh, uh..." 

"I'm just looking, doll, I'll only think of what I really wanna do," he snickers. 

You cross back to the bed and pick up the phone, careful to stay out of view. You turn back and prop it up on the dresser, overly aware of the unflattering angle as you do. You give a wide-eyed look and back up so you're all in frame.  

You hug yourself shyly and sway. 

"Let me see ya," he orders. 

You put your arms straight and notice how he leans in to look at the screen, smoothing his hair back. He keeps his hands over his dark strands and growls. A flutter starts in your stomach. 

"What do you mean too small? That fits your perfect," he says. 

"I... really?" 

"Sure, doll," he turns and you realise he's getting ready.  

He combs his hair stands straight. He grabs a new shirt and buttons it as he peeks again. You near the camera and move it so he can only see your face.  

"Damn, doll, I'm gonna be all over the place," he says, "you're so sweet and sexy." 

"Bucky," you squeak.  

"I don't lie. That's the one thing you should know about me. I will always let you know exactly what I want." 

You blush hotly and a tap on the door nearly makes you drop the phone. You hide it behind you and shuffle closer. You clear your throat. 

"Uh, yeah?" You call through. 

"Hey, honey, everything okay in there?" She asks. Shoot, she must have heard you. 

"I'm watching something," your heart hammers, "sorry, I'll turn it down."

"It's alright, honey. Just thought I heard you..."

"No, just a show," you wisp out.

You quickly back away and go as far from the door as you can. You look down at the phone as Bucky tucks in his shirt. Ugh, that was embarrassing. He heard all that; surely he must realise how lame you are. 

"Mom sounds real sweet," he says, "must be where you get it." 

"She's working tomorrow. Don't wanna keep her up," you explain quietly. 

"That's too bad, doll. I'll just have to keep waiting... wanting," he shrugs and pulls on a dark jacket, "what do ya think? Look good?" 

He poses for the camera. He looks great, as always. You feel smaller than ever. 

"Yes," you answer softly. 

"Yes? That's it?" He sounds disappointed. 

"Very handsome," you eke out. 

"Handsome?" He squints as he picks up the phone. 

"Er," you search your repertoire and borrow from his, "sexy?" 

"Are you asking or telling me?" He chuckles. 

You giggle. You don't think you've ever told anyone they are sexy. You've never been that bold. 

"Yes." 

"Yes?" He laughs. 

"You're, er, oh, sexy," you touch your hot cheek and look away. 

"You are adorable, doll," he growls, "that's exactly what I need to hear." He grazes his fingertips over his beard, "unfortunately I gotta get on it so... tomorrow." 

"Tomorrow," you confirm. 

"Don't worry about a thing, doll, just bring your gorgeous self." 

🃏

The next day is restless. It's worse having hours to wait around for... what? You don't know. 

You spend your time reading, or trying to. Breakfast is small, what your roiling stomach can handle, and you put on an outfit that you think is acceptable, not that you have much to choose from. It might be strange if your mom or Roxie notice the lack of uniform. You could say you change at work? 

Ugh, lie after lie. It's all so much.  

You don't get very far in the book and your phone buzzes, a reminder from Bucky that your fate is coming. You grab your purse and sit out on the stoop, the sunlight beaming down. It would be a nice say if you were so damn uptight. 

Merv pulls up in the sleek luxury car and you get up, checking over your shoulder to see if there's any curious tug on the curtain. Your mom's already at work but Roxie is puttering around somewhere. She could be sleeping or not. 

Merv gets out to greet you. He opens the door and you thank him. He sits in the driver's seat and Springsteen drones from the radio. You smile as he shifts into gear. 

"I know this one," you say. 

"Of course, a classic," he praises. "And how are you today, miss?" 

"Good, you, sir?" 

He laughs as he steers, "very good, miss. And how could I not be." He peeks at you in the rear view, "with sunshine in my backseat." 

You smile bashfully and cross your legs. You can't help the shake in your foot. You're more and more nervous with each second and turn of the wheel. 

As if noticing your unease, he turns up the music, "I like this one too." 

You sigh and ease into the drumbeat. The tempo keeps your heartbeat in check. You're thankful for his subtle comfort. 

You turn to watch through the tinted windows. You never noticed how scenic this city is. You never went many places to have the chance. 

He keeps the volume up and you let it carry you through the long journey across the city. He pulls up to the casino and steers around to the hotel entrance. You peer through then back at him in confusion. He turns the knob down. 

"Mr. Barnes says to give your name at the desk," Merv instructs, "have a good day." 

"Thanks, you too," you unbuckle the seat belt and sidle across to the door. 

You get out with reticence. Staring up at the grand facade, you're more unsure than you've ever been. You've come this far, you have to keep going. You really have no choice as Merv slowly rolls away.  

You step forward. It doesn't get easier the further you get. Your pulse hammers behind your ear as you enter the lobby and a flash of deja vu overcomes you. That night with Roxie, the morning after, and everything since. How does it all feel as if it happened so fast and yet so long ago? 

You go to the desk, feeling entirely out of place. What if Merv is wrong and you shouldn't be there? What if they just look at you and laugh? No choice, keep going. 

You stop on the other side of the desk and give a stiff smile. 

"Hello, welcome, checking in?" The modelesque concierge asks. She's stunning and you're all the more self-aware. 

"Uh, I think? My name is..." 

She keeps her pristine smile in place and her eyes lights up. She doesn't even bother typing into her computer. She flits away and returns with one of little folders with the room keys inside. Oh, this is really happening. 

You thank her and slowly back away. You make a slow advance towards the elevator and wait beside a couple with their suitcases. You step on with them, avoiding a glimpse through the transparent walls.  

You unfold the folio and read the number, pushing the floor number, then stand back on your heels. You keep your eyes on the door, the motion alone making you dizzy. 

The couple gets off before you. When it's your floor, you thankfully scramble off and take a deep breath. You once more check the number and follow the hallways to your assigned suite. 

You swipe the card several times, you still don't have the hang of it. The door opens and you enter meekly. You focus on every move. Shut the door, slip the card back in the folder, put it down on the corner table. 

You look up at last and let yourself marvel at the suite as you delve further in. The smell of pollen greets you with a large bouquet of roses. The suite is huge, even bigger than last time. Two rooms just the same and a full kitchenette and spacious bathroom. You don't go onto the balcony, not wanting to test your stomach. 

You go back inside and glance over the table draped in a red tablecloth beneath the crystal vase of flowers. There's also a tray of chocolate-dipped strawberries and various colours of macarons. You've never had the delicate cookies before but you'd watch countless recipe videos, wishing on day to try them yourself. 

There's an envelope too. You take it and run your nail along the sealed flap. You open it carefully and slip out the card within. 

'Enjoy yourself, doll. I'll join you shortly. B.' 

As if on cue, there's a knock on the door. Oh gosh, you're not ready. What does he mean? Join you? You hoped for a little long before... before... 

You stand frozen but when the door doesn't open itself, you go to answer it. You slowly twist the long handle and open it just a crack. You peer around the edge and blink in confusion. 

"Hello, dahling," the woman's affectation drags out her syllables, "well look at you, how precious." 

She presses on the door and you let her force her way in. You're dumbfounded. Who the heck is she? Another long-legged beauty you can't compare too. 

"Lovely hair," she remarks as she closes the door without a care, "oh, and your skin, yes, perfect canvas..." 

"Sorry, er, I think you have the wrong room--" 

"Mr. Barnes sent me, dahling," she trills in her way, "and I see you are very much in need of my visit so let's begin. Mm, yes, I have a vision," she struts forward, a rose gold chest in her hand, "not very much, you have a natural lustre I adore." 

You retreat as she advances on you. She lifts her chest onto the chaise and flips back the lid, revealing an assortment of precisely organized palettes and tubes. You're horrified and humiliated as you realise why she's there. Maybe you aren't as pretty as Bucky keeps telling you.