#au bucky x oc

[tqlepatiia]

words we can’t take back | b. barnes

masterlist | pt.2

summary: after a mission gone wrong, bucky lashes out, leaving y/n hurt by his harsh words. now drowning in guilt, bucky must find a way to apologize before it’s too late, but y/n isn’t ready to forgive so easily. can he fix what’s been broken?

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: angst, emotional distress, heartbreak, toxic relationship dynamics, arguments, mention of mental health struggles, potential triggers related to emotional abuse, strong language, and feelings of inadequacy.

word count: 5.9k

The mission had been a disaster from the start. Tension crackled in the air, the kind that always seemed to precede trouble. Bucky Barnes felt it in his bones, a tightness that grew with every wrong turn. It had been a simple extraction, but when they walked into a trap, chaos erupted. The sounds of gunfire ricocheted around him, the explosions reverberating through his chest like a war drum, drowning out his thoughts. But when he glanced at you—his partner, his anchor—something twisted in his gut.

In the aftermath, the wreckage of what had gone wrong stretched before him. Bodies lay scattered, their lifeless forms stark against the smoky haze, and the acrid scent of burning metal stung his nostrils. You stood there, bruises marring your skin, and your eyes, once sharp and defiant, now dulled by exhaustion. Bucky had seen too much, been through too much, and the anger inside him simmered, ready to boil over. How could this have gone so wrong?

“What the hell were you thinking?” he snapped, his voice a harsh whip in the stillness. His jaw was clenched, and his glare could’ve burned holes into you. “You almost got yourself fucking killed, you know that?”

Your breath caught, heart sinking at the venom in his tone. “I was doing my job, Bucky. I thought you had my back.”

“Had your back?” He stepped closer, fists clenching at his sides, every muscle taut with pent-up fury. The adrenaline from the fight morphed into something more destructive. “You’re a goddamn liability! You keep throwing yourself into danger like you can’t be hurt. What the hell is wrong with you?”

The words hit you like a punch, each one a jagged edge cutting deeper than the last. You could feel the weight of his anger pressing down on you, suffocating. “I didn’t ask for a babysitter,” you shot back, bitterness lacing your voice. “Maybe I’m the one who should be questioning if you’re fit to be my partner!”

Bucky’s expression hardened, eyes narrowing like a predator’s. This isn’t just about the mission, he thought, grappling with the frustration of watching you walk into danger. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have to worry about saving your ass all the damn time. If I wanted to deal with this shit, I’d find someone who actually knew how to handle themselves. I’m sick of dragging you through every godforsaken fight!”

Every accusation felt like a dagger, twisting in the wound he had just opened. You could see the pain and anger simmering in his eyes, but it was all directed at you. “You think I wanted this? I’m not the one who fucked up in the field! I thought we were a team!”

His laugh was bitter, devoid of humor, echoing against the wreckage around you. “Team? That’s a joke. You don’t get to call it a team when I’m the one stuck cleaning up your shit. I’m done with it. You’re not my equal; you’re just a goddamn burden.”

The air grew thick with tension, and you fought back tears, the tremor in your hands betraying you. “Maybe I should just leave, then,” you said, voice trembling but defiant. “If I’m such a problem, why don’t you find someone who doesn’t drag you down?”

The silence that followed was deafening. You turned away, trying to keep your composure, but you could feel his gaze burning into your back—a mix of anger and something softer, more vulnerable, that he refused to acknowledge. His heart pounded as the realization hit him: I pushed her away when she needed me the most. What the hell was I thinking?

As you walked away, the weight of his words hung heavily in the air between you, suffocating. Each step felt like a fracture in your heart, the distance growing more unbearable with every inch. Bucky stood there, feeling the echoes of his harshness fill the void where your connection once thrived. The realization settled in, and he knew this wasn’t over. How the hell do I fix this?

But as the dust settled around him, all he could feel was emptiness, a tidal wave of regret crashing over him, leaving him alone in the aftermath of his own making.

Days blurred together into an indistinguishable mess. The tension between you and Bucky hung thick in the air, suffocating, wrapping around him like a vice grip. He paced the empty halls of the compound, the rhythmic echo of his boots against the cold metal floors mirrored the chaos in his mind. Each step felt heavier than the last, a relentless reminder of the moment that played on a loop in his head—the hurt in your eyes when his careless words had cut deep.

Memories flooded back: your laughter in the training room, the way you encouraged him during his darkest moments. He had crossed a line he never intended to, letting his anger spew out like poison, each word a dagger aimed straight at your heart. Guilt clawed at him, a beast gnawing at his insides, turning his stomach into knots. Every time he caught a glimpse of you, it felt like a punch to the gut, the weight of regret settling like a stone in his chest.

The silence of the compound was palpable, broken only by the distant hum of machinery. He’d find you in the training room, pouring every ounce of your energy into your workout, the fierce determination radiating off you like a fire. Your tear-streaked face haunted him, a ghost he couldn’t shake. You weren’t just a teammate; you were everything to him. The thought of losing you felt like ice water dousing his heart, leaving him gasping for air, desperate to rewind time.

“Hey, Buck,” Sam said one day, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, the faint scent of sweat and metal mingling in the air. “You good, or are you just gonna sulk like an old man all day?”

“Yeah, sure,” Bucky shot back, the lie tasting bitter on his tongue, his eyes averted. He could feel Sam’s scrutinizing gaze piercing through his façade.

“Seriously, man, you think I can't see through that? There’s a damn storm brewing in that head of yours,” Sam pressed, his tone a mix of concern and teasing familiarity. “You gotta talk to her. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. It’s like watching a damn dog chase its own tail—ain’t gonna end well, and I’m not about to sit here and watch you make a mess of it.”

Bucky nodded, but the weight of his guilt felt like chains wrapped tight around his heart, squeezing the air from his lungs. What the hell could he even say? The fear of facing you loomed larger than any mission he’d ever tackled—a monster lurking in the shadows, making him feel weak and exposed. He clenched his fists, jaw tightening, as he fought against the rising tide of anxiety.

Closing his eyes, he leaned against the wall, fighting the urge to scream. He remembered how you had stood by him, even when the nightmares clawed at him in the night. You deserved better than his careless words, better than the pain he had caused. The metallic scent of sweat mixed with the lingering aroma of stale coffee filled the air, reminding him of the countless nights spent together, talking and laughing. Those memories felt like a beacon, drawing him closer to the confrontation he dreaded yet craved.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, pushing off the wall, each step toward you heavy with uncertainty. His heart raced as he imagined your reaction—would you forgive him? The thought of laying his broken heart bare to you, the one person who meant everything, filled him with dread and hope.

As he approached, the distance between you felt like a chasm. He was ready to confront the mess he’d made, but the fear of your disappointment loomed over him like a dark cloud. Sam watched him go, shaking his head with a faint smile, knowing his friend was finally stepping up to make things right.

It was time to face the music, to turn back the clock on the mistakes he had made. The symbol of his guilt—the small, worn-out dog tag you had given him before a particularly tough mission—burned in his pocket, a constant reminder of the bond he desperately wanted to restore.

In that moment, he knew he had to find the courage to bridge the gap between them, to reclaim what was lost before it slipped through his fingers forever.

After what felt like a damn eternity, Bucky finally gathered the guts to knock on your door. Each knock echoed in the silence, a stark reminder of the distance that had grown between you two. He stood there, heart pounding, fists clenched, feeling the weight of guilt that had settled in his chest like lead. Memories flooded his mind—your laughter during training sessions, quiet moments together in the compound, and the way your smile had once lit up even the darkest days. It all felt so far away now, a reminder of how easily he could lose it.

“Go away,” you called, your voice muffled but laced with hurt.

“Y/N,” he pleaded, desperation creeping into his tone. “I need to talk. Just… let me in, alright?” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his mind racing with all the things he wanted to say but couldn’t quite grasp.

Silence hung in the air like a noose, heavy and suffocating. Each second stretched into an eternity, amplifying the tension until, finally, the door creaked open just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your face—red and puffy from tears, eyes shadowed with pain. It felt like a punch to the gut.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you said coldly, arms crossed defensively, trying to shield yourself from the storm he had caused.

“I know. I messed up,” he replied, his voice thick with regret. He ran a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words. “And I can’t—” He faltered, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. “I can’t take back what I said. I was scared, and I lashed out. You mean too damn much to me for that. Just… let me explain.”

You stepped back, letting him in but hesitating, your anger and hurt crackling in the air like static electricity. Bucky could feel the tension radiating off you, could see how you trembled with barely contained rage. The faint hum of the compound’s machinery buzzed in the background, underscoring the silence between you.

“Bucky, you can’t just waltz in here and throw around apologies like they’re candy. It’s not that fucking simple,” you said, your voice shaking as emotions boiled over. “Do you even get what your words did to me? They cut deeper than you can imagine.”

The memories of your last argument flashed in his mind—how he had yelled, how his words had sliced through the fragile trust you had built. He could still hear your voice trembling, see the hurt in your eyes. It haunted him.

“I know it’s not,” he said, voice rising as frustration bubbled to the surface. “But you have to understand—I never meant to hurt you. I was scared as hell of losing you. I didn’t know how to deal with it, so I took it out on you. I thought I could keep you safe, but I fucking failed, and I can’t live with that.” He avoided your gaze, staring at the floor, ashamed of the turmoil he had caused.

You turned your gaze away, fury igniting. “You think being scared gives you the right to hurt me? Those words stick with you. They don’t just disappear because you suddenly want to make things right. You shattered something in me, Bucky, and you expect me to just let it go?” The air was thick with the weight of your words, each one a dagger aimed at his heart.

“I know,” he said, his voice cracking under the weight of his regret. “I’m not gonna pretend this doesn’t matter. I want to make things right. You’re not just some partner in this crazy shit; you’re everything to me. I’m so damn sorry, Y/N.”

A heavy silence fell between you, thick with unprocessed emotions. Tears glistened in your eyes, anger mixed with pain as you struggled to hold back the flood. Bucky could see your fingers trembling, as if you were fighting against the urge to reach out for him, to seek comfort from the very person who had hurt you.

“You’re sorry? That’s it? Do you think that’s enough? You can’t just toss around ‘I’m sorry’ and act like everything’s fine! Do you have any idea what it feels like to have the person you love turn on you like that?”

Bucky opened his mouth to respond, but the truth of your feelings hit him like a freight train. It shattered him, the realization crashing down harder than any blow he’d ever taken. “I didn’t mean to fuckin’ hurt you like that. I—”

“Didn’t mean to?” you snapped, frustration boiling over. “But you did! You meant every single word when you said I wasn’t enough! It’s like a poison, Bucky! Every time I look in the mirror, I see your words haunting me!”

“Y/N…” he pleaded, stepping closer, but you backed away, shaking your head fiercely. The space between you felt like an insurmountable chasm, filled with hurt and distrust.

“No! You don’t get to touch me. Not after what you said. I don’t want your pity. I want my trust back! I want to feel safe with you again, but how the hell can I when you’ve torn me apart like this?” The pain in your voice twisted like a knife in his gut.

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” he begged, desperation bleeding through his words. “I can give you space. I’ll listen—just don’t shut me out. I can’t lose you.” He reached out, almost instinctively, but stopped short, respecting your boundary. The small bracelet you used to wear, the one he had given you, lay forgotten on the table—its absence felt like a symbol of the trust now shattered between you.

“Maybe… maybe I need time,” you finally said, voice soft but resolute, tears spilling down your cheeks. “I can’t keep waiting for you to figure out how to treat me with the love and respect I deserve. I can’t be your punching bag.”

“Take all the time you need,” he replied, his heart sinking deeper. “I’ll be right here, waiting for you. Just… I hope you can find it in you to forgive me.” His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken fears of a future without you.

You nodded slowly, the weight of the moment hanging heavily between you. Bucky turned to leave, each step dragging him down like a lead weight. The distant sounds of the compound faded as he walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He wanted to scream, to punch the walls, to erase the hurt, but he knew he had to be patient. You needed time, and he would wait, even if it felt like forever.

As he walked away, the door closing behind him, Bucky felt a hollow ache settle in his chest—a deep emptiness that screamed for your forgiveness, for your presence. But he also knew he deserved the pain, the anguish he had caused. The only thing that mattered now was making things right, even if it took an eternity.

Days turned into weeks, and Bucky kept his distance, lurking on the edges of your life like a goddamn ghost. He was always there, a shadow in the background, never truly present, waiting for the moment you’d find it in yourself to forgive him. It was a tormenting cycle for him, hanging around the periphery of your world, the weight of his own mistakes bearing down like an anchor. He often caught himself recalling the laughter you once shared, memories of late-night talks and quiet moments that now felt like a distant dream. Those memories twisted in his gut as he watched you from afar, stealing glances during training, his gaze lingering near the kitchen where you used to share coffee and laughter, searching for a connection that felt like it was slipping through his fingers. But every time he made a move, the pain in your eyes sent him retreating, a constant reminder of the hurt he’d caused and the love that now felt so fragile.

One evening, the hum of the common room enveloped you, filled with the clatter of dishes and faint laughter from the team, but all you could focus on was the ache in your heart. You were scrolling through your phone, desperately trying to distract yourself when Bucky appeared in the doorway, hesitant and guarded. Your heart clenched at the sight of him—a mix of longing and sorrow flooding you, drowning out the world around you.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and rough, as if he was still wrestling with the demons of his past.

“Hey,” you replied, your voice flat, a careful mask of strength concealing the turmoil inside. You wanted to scream, to let him know how much his presence hurt, but part of you still craved the warmth he brought.

“Can we talk?” His words hung in the air like a fragile lifeline, one you weren’t sure you could grab onto.

You nodded, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you. “Make it quick,” you shot back, your tone sharper than intended, trying to keep the emotions at bay.

He stepped closer, eyes searching yours with a desperation that twisted your gut. “I need to say it again—for everything. I know it doesn’t mean much after the shit I pulled, but I swear I’m trying to fix this. I’m really working on myself.” As he spoke, he clenched his fists, fingers digging into his palms, a physical manifestation of the guilt that gnawed at him. “I just… I can’t keep running from this. I need you to know that.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the pressure of his words weighing down on you. “I’m trying to work through it, Bucky. But I can’t pretend everything’s fine just because you say you’re sorry.”

“I don’t expect you to,” he said, frustration cracking his calm facade. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, unable to meet your gaze. “But you need to understand how damn much you mean to me. I can’t lose you, Y/N. I won’t let that happen.”

Your heart ached at his confession, but anger flared within you. “You hurt me, Bucky. You can’t just wipe that away with a few nice words.”

“I know, I know! I’m fucking sorry, alright?” He ran a hand through his hair, pacing like a caged animal, the sound of his footsteps echoing off the walls. “I didn’t mean it. I was scared, and I lashed out. But you’ve gotta see how much I regret it, damn it!”

“Scared?” you spat, bitterness thick in your voice. “You don’t get to use your fear as an excuse for the pain you caused me!”

“Then what the hell do you want from me?” His voice rose, desperation lacing every word. “You’re acting like I’m a goddamn ghost! I’m right here, trying to fix this!”

“Because I need to protect myself!” you yelled back, tears spilling down your cheeks. “Every time I try to forgive you, you mess it up again! I can’t trust you when you keep hurting me!”

The silence that followed felt like a chasm between you, both of you breathing heavily, emotions spiraling out of control. Bucky’s shoulders sagged, the weight of your words crushing him. He thought of the little trinket you gave him once, a small metal star—a reminder of a bond that felt irreparably broken.

“I fucking hate this,” he admitted, his voice cracking, tears shimmering in his eyes. “I hate that I hurt you. I hate that no matter how hard I try, I can’t fix this. You mean everything to me, and it feels like I’m losing you more and more every damn day.” His gaze flickered to the floor, and for a moment, he was just a man haunted by his past, the soldier who had lost so much.

Your heart shattered at the sight of him, raw vulnerability spilling out. “You don’t get to say that after everything. You’ve made me feel worthless, like my feelings don’t matter. I can’t keep letting you walk all over me and expect everything to be okay.”

“I don’t want to fucking hurt you!” he cried, frustration and anguish battling within him. “I never asked for this! I just… sometimes I don’t know how to be better, okay?” He clenched his jaw, fighting against the tears that threatened to spill.

“Then you need to figure it out!” you screamed, your voice trembling with pain. “I can’t keep waiting for you to get it right while I’m left feeling broken!”

As your words hung in the air, the truth of your reality crashed over you both. The love you once shared felt suffocated by the shadows of anger and disappointment. You were both drowning in a sea of sorrow, hearts beating in sync but desperately out of tune.

Bucky stood there, shattered, eyes glistening with unshed tears, as you turned away, the battle within you raging. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unprocessed emotions, and for the first time, the thought of walking away felt more appealing than the pain of staying. But just as you took a step, a sliver of hope flickered in your chest—a feeling that perhaps this confrontation could lead to a path forward.

“Y/N…” he started, voice thick with heartbreak, but his words got lost in the chasm of hurt between you, leaving only a haunting silence in their wake. Yet somewhere deep within, the possibility of healing lingered, waiting for the courage to break through.

Weeks dragged on in the compound, each day feeling like a storm brewing just beneath the surface. The faint hum of machinery surrounded you, a constant reminder of the tension in the air. Despite Bucky’s promises to change, shadows of his past returned, casting a gloom that enveloped you both. Memories of laughter and shared moments felt like distant echoes now, buried under the weight of unspoken words and unresolved conflicts. You tiptoed around him, hyper-aware that every little thing could set off alarms in your mind.

The moment of impact came like a bullet, unexpected and cruel. During a mission briefing, Bucky’s voice cut through the air like glass shattering.

“Why the hell can’t you just focus?” he snapped, eyes ablaze with fury that had nothing to do with you, yet somehow landed squarely on your chest. The air felt heavy, thick with the scent of sweat and metal, making it hard to breathe. “You’re not some damn rookie! You should know better than this by now!”

“Bucky, I—”

“Just shut the hell up!” he roared, the words echoing off the walls, raw and menacing. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles whitening as he struggled to contain the storm inside. “You’re making this way harder than it needs to be!”

Each word felt like a blow, carving deeper into your heart. This wasn’t a new dance; it was an exhausting routine, and the suffocating weight of your shared history felt more unbearable than ever. You remembered the moments when he had opened up, how he had let you in, but they felt like faint memories now. “Maybe you should take a good, hard look in the mirror,” you shot back, your voice shaky with a mix of hurt and anger. “I’m not the one with the issue here.”

He glared at you, frustration boiling over, muscles tense, jaw clenched tight. You could see the flicker of his inner turmoil, the fear of losing you clawing at his composure. “You keep pulling this shit! It’s like you can’t see past your own damn feelings! Just focus on the mission for once!”

Your chest tightened, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I’m not your damn punching bag, Bucky,” you said, voice breaking under the weight of raw emotion. “You can’t keep exploding at me and expect me to take it like it’s nothing. I’m sick of this!”

“Maybe if you actually gave a damn about the mission instead of whining about your feelings, we wouldn’t be in this mess!” His words cut deeper than you thought possible, and you recoiled as if slapped. You remembered the way he used to care, how he used to fight for every person he loved, and it stung even more to see him like this.

“I care, Bucky!” you cried, tears spilling over as you fought to hold it together. “But it’s hard to keep my head in the game when I’m constantly worried about when you’ll blow up at me next! You say you’re trying, but nothing changes! It feels like I don’t even matter to you anymore!”

For a moment, his expression shifted, a flicker of regret flashing across his face, but the damage was done. “You think this is easy for me?” he shouted, voice raw and desperate, filled with unfiltered anguish. “I’m trying to be better, but you keep dragging me back into this shit!” You could see the pain behind his bravado, the memories of his past haunting him, and it broke your heart.

“Don’t act like I’m the fucking problem!” you yelled, heart racing as reality crashed down around you. “I’m not the one who can’t confront his demons! You push me away and then blame me for not being there when you do!”

Pain flickered in Bucky’s eyes, the cracks in his stoic facade deepening. “You’re right,” he admitted, voice shaking, the weight of his confession crushing him. “I don’t know how to deal with this… how to deal with you. I’m scared shitless of losing you, and honestly, I don’t know if I can fix it.” The vulnerability in his voice was a fragile thread, hanging in the air, and you felt a flicker of hope amidst the chaos.

“Then maybe you need to sort your shit out,” you replied, heart breaking as you watched his despair unfold. “I can’t keep waiting for you to figure it out while I’m left feeling shattered.” You recalled the shared moments, the promises made, and the weight of them felt unbearable now.

Silence fell, thick with the unsaid and unresolved. You were both drowning in a sea of sorrow, love suffocating under the weight of his rage and your hurt. Bucky’s shoulders sagged as he stepped back, the chasm between you widening, feeling more insurmountable than ever.

“I can’t keep doing this,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face, anguish spilling over. “It’s killing me.” The vulnerability hung heavy between you, and for a fleeting moment, you saw a glimmer of understanding in his eyes.

His breath hitched, and he looked like he might reach for you, but the distance remained unbridgeable, a stark reminder of everything that felt lost. Yet, beneath it all, a small part of you held onto the hope that one day, you could navigate the darkness together.

The clash felt inevitable, like a storm building for days, ready to break over the fragile space between you and Bucky. The tension in the air was suffocating, each breath heavy with unspoken anger and hurt. You stood in the middle of the training room, fists clenched, trying to hold yourself together. Across from you, Bucky stood rigid, muscles taut, his hands balled into fists. The weights he had been using moments earlier now lay forgotten on the floor, a sharp reminder of the growing chasm between you.

The silence was unbearable. Then, without warning, Bucky's voice cut through the room like a blade. “Can you just—stop fucking around? You think this is a game?” His voice cracked, but his anger was palpable, radiating from him in waves as he hurled the weights down with a force that rattled through the room, the echo reverberating like a punch to the gut.

You flinched at the sound, the weight of his words hitting you just as hard. “Maybe if you’d stop yelling for one second, you’d see I’m trying!” Your voice shook, barely holding steady under the pressure. You were trembling, the knot of frustration and hurt in your chest threatening to unravel completely.

Bucky’s eyes darkened. “Damn it, you’re not trying hard enough!” he snapped, his fists tightening at his sides, knuckles white. His voice—usually so steady—was strained now, as though he was fighting to keep control. The anger in his tone felt like a punch, but you could see the tremble in his hands, the way his jaw clenched so tight you thought it might crack.

The sting of his words twisted in your chest. You could feel the pressure building in your throat, choking you with the weight of unspoken feelings. “I’m trying, Bucky. But it’s never enough for you, is it?” you said, the words tasting bitter in your mouth, laced with all the exhaustion you’d tried to suppress.

His face contorted in anger, but for a brief second, you saw something deeper flicker in his eyes—something haunted. You recognized that look. It was the same one he wore when he woke up from nightmares, drenched in sweat, guilt seeping from every pore. But it vanished just as quickly as it appeared, swallowed by his fury. “Get your shit together,” he snapped, voice low and intense. “I’m not your babysitter. You really think I can hold your hand through every goddamn thing?” His voice wavered, but he squared his shoulders, hiding the vulnerability underneath. “You want to survive? Toughen the hell up or get out of my way.”

“Then maybe you should just go!” The words burst out before you could stop them, raw and jagged, cutting through the tension. You hated how sharp your voice sounded, like a part of you was shattering with every syllable.

For a split second, his expression faltered—just long enough for you to see the crack in his defenses, the fear creeping in behind the anger. But the moment passed, and his face hardened once more, the distance between you widening.

“Enough is enough, Bucky.” Your voice trembled as you blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. “I can’t keep doing this. I’m tired of forgiving you just so you can hurt me again.” Each word felt like a physical wound, reopening scars you thought had healed.

Bucky’s hands dropped to his sides, but his fists remained clenched. “You’re being dramatic,” he muttered, turning his gaze away as though refusing to face the weight of your words. “I'm pushing you because you damn well need to be better. I can't afford to lose you.”

There it was. The fear he refused to name. He was terrified of losing you, but he couldn’t say it. Not out loud. So instead, he buried it under anger, under demands that pushed you further away.

“You twist everything, Bucky,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve tried to be there for you, to understand you—but I can’t keep pretending that this is okay. I can’t be the person you take everything out on.”

His jaw tightened, but his hands trembled at his sides. “You don’t get it,” he said, voice quieter now, almost broken. “I’m trying to protect you. I just… I don’t know how to do this without pushing people away. I’m not good at this shit.”

“And what do you think you’re doing right now?” you asked, your heart aching. “You’re pushing me away, and I’m too tired to hold on.”

The silence that followed was deafening, thick with the weight of unsaid things. Bucky’s breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. The echo of the weights hitting the ground earlier still rang in your ears, a haunting reminder of how quickly things had spiraled.

You took a deep breath, feeling the chill of the room settle into your bones, as if the air itself was colder now, heavier. “I feel invisible, Bucky,” you whispered, your voice cracking with the weight of your confession. “Like I’m just a shadow, someone to absorb your anger when things get too hard. I can’t live like this anymore.”

Bucky’s eyes widened for a moment, and his fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for you but couldn’t. His lips parted, but no words came. His shoulders slumped slightly, a tiny surrender in the face of your pain.

He opened his mouth, his voice hoarse and desperate now. “Y/N, don’t do this,” His voice cracked, but his body was still tense, like he was holding something back—something he couldn’t quite bring himself to admit. “You don’t need to make this harder than it already is.”

“I don’t want to walk away, Bucky. But I have to, for my own sanity,” you said, stepping back as if putting physical distance between you would somehow make it easier.

He reached out, his hand hovering in the air between you, unsure. “Damn it,” he rasped. “I’m trying, okay? I need you to believe me.”

“It’s too late for that,” you whispered, your heart breaking at the sight of him so vulnerable, so raw. His hand dropped, and the space between you felt like a canyon now, too wide to cross.

Bucky’s breath hitched, his gaze dropping to the floor as though he couldn’t bear to look at you anymore. He clenched his fists again, nails biting into his palms. The weight of his guilt was suffocating, and you could see it in the way his shoulders sagged, the way his eyes dimmed with the realization that he had pushed you too far.

The room felt too quiet, the air thick with the aftermath of your words. You could feel the memory of every touch, every smile, every moment of laughter between you two slipping away like sand through your fingers. There was a photo—one he had kept tucked away in his jacket—of the two of you on a day when everything had felt perfect. He had carried it with him, a reminder of what he was trying to protect. But now, it felt like just another symbol of something irreparable.

“I loved you,” you whispered, stepping back one final time, tears blurring your vision as you turned toward the door. “But I deserve better.”

“Y/N!” His voice broke, desperate, as he took a step toward you, hand outstretched. His body was trembling now, fear etched into every line of his face. “Don’t fucking walk away from me! I can change. I swear, I can be better for you!”

You hesitated, your back to him, feeling the weight of his plea. For a moment, you almost turned back. Almost. But the words he had said still hung heavy in the air between you. And you knew—deep down—that you couldn’t survive this cycle anymore.

As you walked away, the echo of his voice followed you, the pain lacing each syllable a reminder of what could have been. But you didn’t stop. The silence after you left was deafening, and it swallowed Bucky whole, leaving him alone with his regrets, the weight of his own mistakes pressing down on him like a physical force.

He watched the door close behind you, his heart sinking with the realization that he had lost you. And for the first time, he didn’t know how to fix it.

[vallovesbuckyb]

POV: You get a voicemail from Bucky while he's away on a mission.

Check out my Etsy store for your own voicemail personalized message or email experience ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

The day felt longer than usual as I waited for Bucky's call. Today was the day of the week he could use the burner phone. Usually, he tries not to use it too much. But every Friday without missing a beat, a call always came from the same number - at the same time. Every creak of the floorboards or distant sound made me jump, paranoid that any noise would be my ringing phone. I missed him terribly, and the empty space next to me in our apartment only emphasized his absence.

As I anxiously checked my phone for the umpteenth time, it finally lit up with an incoming call. My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly answered, expecting to hear Bucky's voice. To my disappointment, it wasn't him but some telemarketer. Frustration welled up inside me, and I let out a sigh, wondering when I would hear from him.

As the clock ticked closer to the designated hour, my heart raced with anticipation. I clutched my phone in my hand, checking the battery repeatedly. Everything was ready - the charger plugged in, my phone positioned strategically on the table. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.

The minutes dragged on, and finally, it was time. Bucky had always been punctual, and I knew he would call any moment now. I stared at my phone, willing it to ring. But the minutes turned into an hour, and the room echoed with silence.

Concern gnawed at me as I checked my phone for the umpteenth time. No missed calls, no messages. I tried to shake off the unease, telling myself he might be caught up with the mission. Maybe something came up, and he couldn't call. But deep down, I couldn't shake the worry.

Just as I contemplated calling him, my phone buzzed, and relief washed over me. However, my joy turned to disappointment when I saw it wasn't Bucky calling. Instead, it was a notification that my phone was about to die. Panic set in as I fumbled for the charger, desperately plugging it in. The screen dimmed, and the phone powered off.

Frustration bubbled within me as I waited for it to turn back on. I cursed silently, realizing that I might have missed Bucky's call. I hoped he would understand, but doubt crept in. What if this was the only chance he had to reach out?

Eventually, my phone powered up, and I anxiously checked for missed calls. There it was – a single voicemail from Bucky. I pressed play, and his voice filled the room, warm and reassuring.

A small smile formed on my face, hearing his words. It was as if he was right there with me, despite the physical distance.

The voicemail ended, leaving me with a mix of emotions. I was grateful for his message, but a pang of guilt tugged at me for missing his call. Despite the temporary hiccup, the sound of Bucky's voice reassured me. I replayed the voicemail, savoring every word. As I gazed out the window, I imagined the moment he'd return, embracing him with all the pent-up longing. The wait felt more bearable now, knowing that our reunion was just around the corner.

[imtryingbuck]

Till Death Do Us Part

~ series masterlist ~

Summary: Bucky has to marry a woman who surprises him more and more as their story goes along.

Series Warnings: warnings will be on each chapter but here's a forewarning. mentions of past child abuse, mentions of past rape. violence. mentions of nudity. mentions of infidelity. death. shootings. angst. fluff.

Word Count: 42,622

Status: completed

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC!Theodora

A/N: this will mainly be focused on the marriage and the development of Bucky and his wife more than crimey things sorry.

Masterlist

fluff - ❀ angst - ❁ both - ✾

➳ Prologue - ✾

➳ “Wedding” Day - ✾

➳ Damaged - ✾

➳ The Library - ✾

➳ Painting - ✾

➳ Family Photos - ✾

➳ Nightmares and Shopping - ✾

➳ Donations and Monsters - ✾

➳ One Step Forward A Hundred Back - ✾

➳ Worthy - ✾

➳ Tabby - ✾

➳ Family Dinner - ✾

➳ Birthday Bash - ✾

➳ Making Love - ✾

➳ Help From The Least Unsuspected - ✾

➳ A Mothers Endless Love - ✾

➳ Home - ✾

➳ The Locket - ✾

➳ Wedding Day Round Two - ✾

➳ Epilogue - ❀

[marvelouslizzie]

just let me make you feel better

summary: after a long day of work, you finally come back home and rest. your period is making your day miserable but your boyfriend is here to help you.

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader 

word count: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, period comfort, established relationship, pet names, mentions of menstruation pain, a little bit of period stigma, comfort offering, sexual activity during the period, nipple play, clit play, fingering, after care, obviously blood, unrealistic portrayal of male partners, no mention of y/n.

a/n: I just wanted to write a Bucky Barnes offers to comfort you during your period story so here we are. Unfortunately, this kind of care is really rare so I’m sorry for fucking up your expectations about men. Most of them don’t even do the bare minimum. This concept would shock them but don’t settle for anything less.

Thank you @notafunkiller and @es1dit for beta-reading and helping me better this story. Love you both!

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. 

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me or send me a question regarding the stories I write. I would love to talk about it and no, it would never bother me.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

God, you can’t wait for this day to be over. It’s not the worst day of your life, you know it, but still, the freaking pain just doesn’t want to go away. At least, not completely. It finds different ways to crawl back to you and keep you suffering.

You tried a lot of stuff, starting with good old painkillers. There’s no denying that the pill is helping you, but it’s just not good enough. Your back is hurting, joints are feeling sore and there’s still a headache on the back of your head that no matter how many painkillers you take, keeps lingering and torturing you. Like bleeding isn’t enough.

Yeah, being on your period and working at the same time is no fun. It’s not even bearable. Still, you make it through the day and come back just to drop on the couch. You really want to get rid of these clothes, take a hot shower and change into something comfortable, but you just don’t have the energy. Mentally, you are already doing all this stuff, imagining how good it would feel to stand under the hot water and just let it relax your muscles. Yet your legs don't want to move. You just lay on the couch like a bag of potatoes.

As you drift between sleep and being awake, you hear the keys jingling, signaling that your boyfriend is home. Is it weird that you can already smell him while he’s standing across the room? You have no idea but you can. It just feels like something…  familiar. You have no idea how it works, but it makes you feel safe even though he did nothing but step into the apartment.

“Darling?” Bucky calls out because he isn’t used to not being greeted by you when he comes home. Usually, you are either going toward him or yelling “Welcome home, baby” from wherever you are.

You can’t find the strength to call out so you groan a little while raising your hand. God, his expression changes so quickly. He walks towards you at a trot.

“Are you alright?”

“I am.” You are just exhausted, nothing out of the ordinary. Especially not at this time of the month.

“Are you sure? You don’t look alright.”

“It’s that time of the month again.” The worried expression on his face slowly fades away when he notices you are actually alright. It makes you wonder what he thought happened to you, but you don't ask him.

“Oh, darling…” His voice is so caring. Your period completely saps you of your energy and he knows it. He knows how you suffer or what you do to make yourself feel better. “Did you take a painkiller?”

“Yes.” Of course, you did. That was the first thing you thought of.

“When?”

You stop for a second to think. “In the morning and after lunch.”

“So you can take another one now, right?” 

That’s a good question. You can take another pill, but your stomach is already protesting at that thought. You should eat something before taking it, but you don’t feel like cooking. Even the thought is exhausting.

“But first you will need food.” God, is he reading your mind or what?

“I don’t feel like–” Before you can finish your sentence, he’s already standing up and making his way to the kitchen.

“I will prepare something for you.” When your words register, he turns around and looks at you. “You don’t wanna eat anything?”

“No, no. I was going to say I don’t feel like preparing anything.” 

“Oh, that’s fine.” He turns around. “Don’t worry. I will make your favorite.”

You have yet to learn what he means by that because you have many favorites. A meal, sandwich, snack, or dessert? You find out what he means when he comes back with your favorite sandwich, a glass of water, and the painkiller you use only during your period. You love him for paying enough attention to notice that.

“Eat while I draw a bath for you. Warm water should help.”

Why didn’t you think about filling the tub and just sitting there? The thought of laying there for a while sounds so much more appealing than a quick shower. It doesn’t take long for you to finish the whole sandwich and take the pill. Your stomach isn’t protesting anymore, and neither are your taste buds. Still, the pain and that discomfort are there, lingering and making you regret being born. Men don’t have to suffer like this and it’s so unfair! You hate mankind for that privilege. While you are lost in your thoughts, Bucky comes out of the bathroom and you notice: No, you don’t hate the whole of mankind. There’s one exception. You can’t hate Bucky when he’s the most thoughtful person you've ever met.

“The bathtub is ready for you. Did you finish your sandwich?” He kind of sounds like a teacher or a parent, checking if you did everything you were supposed to.

“Yep, all done.” You gesture to the plate. “Took the painkiller, too.”

“Good job, doll.” He comes closer without taking his eyes off of you. “Wanna head to the bathroom now?”

“Yes, but I need to take some clothes with me first.”

“Don’t worry, I will take care of it. Just get in there and relax, okay?”

You just nod with a small smile on your lips. When he takes care of you like this, you feel so lucky and so seen. You never asked him to do any of this stuff for you. Occasionally, you just said “I don’t feel like cooking” thinking you would order take out or you asked for a painkiller, but he registered all that information and started to do things without you asking. Seeing how he paid attention and cared about you just makes you feel valued.

You have no idea how long you have been laying in the bathtub. It was nearly perfect with the bubbles and the scent. You expected him to show up and tell you what to do next, but that did not happen. After a while, you decide to properly clean yourself and drain the bathtub. That’s when you notice he put your towels to warm on the radiator, which instantly makes you smile. You wrap your hair with one and dry your body with the other. Thinking you might bleed around, you quickly leave the bedroom to find your clothes. 

While you are thinking if you should go for a pad or a tampon, you find your missing boyfriend in your bedroom. Your clothes are already chosen and set aside, your favorite pajamas waiting for you.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

“A little better. The painkiller started to work its magic.” You walk towards your clothes to put them on as quickly as possible, still thinking about the blood.

Bucky quickly gets in your way. “No need to rush.”

“No, no, I really need to rush.” He gives you a look that makes you think he's confused. “I don’t have a tampon on. I will bleed on the floor.”

“And?” His tone is so carefree, it confuses you.

“And we will have to clean it, Bucky.” You state the obvious.

“Then we will clean it.” He makes things sound so natural, so casual. Like it’s the most normal thing on earth, but you are conditioned to think that you shouldn’t bleed around, that you should take care of any mess you make.

“You don’t wanna see that.”

“Maybe I do.” His answer comes instantly, surprising you.

“Believe me, you don’t.” You make a move in the direction of your clothes, but Bucky doesn’t let you.

“Bucky!” 

“Darling, I have been fighting for god knows how long. Do you think your period blood would disturb me?” His question sounds so genuine, you stop to think for a second. He has a point, but not really. It's a different kind of blood.

“I mean it’s not the same, is it?” 

“Yeah, it’s not.” The confirmation you expect finally comes. “I’m used to seeing blood caused by violence, not by nature.”

Wait, what?

You don’t know how to react to this. Of course, it is natural, but it is also torture and it makes a mess every time. A huge mess. Usually, your exes were disturbed by the idea, keeping a respectful distance while you were on your period, but apparently not Bucky. His fingers were already grazing your skin carefully. He looks into your eyes, asking for permission silently.

“I really don’t feel like it, Bucky.” You hate saying no to him, but the pain is still there. You are sure it will make things uncomfortable.

“I’m just asking for permission to touch you, doll. I’m not asking for anything else.” He keeps confusing you tonight. 

“What do you mean?”

“Just let me make you feel better.” His answer is simple, but not enough for you to understand his meaning. What does he mean by that?

“I think having you there now isn’t a great idea, Buck. I’m in pain and a little bit too sensitive.” You try to explain as simply as possible.

“Darling… There are other ways to make you feel better, or did you forget about those? Maybe I should remind you, huh?” Gosh, the smug smile creeping up his lips… It sends shivers down your spine. “Just lay down.” He gestures to the bed.

“I will blee–”

“Shh…” He doesn’t let you finish. “Just be a good girl and stop thinking too much.”

For fuck's sake… A good girl? He definitely knows how to shut your brain up. You slowly sit down on the bed and notice a big towel under you. He already thought about everything, so you won’t have to worry. So you can just enjoy this. If that’s what he wants, you can do that. You can shut your mind for a short while and try to enjoy yourself. 

As he lies down next to you, he turns his entire body in your direction and props himself up on his elbow. His flesh fingers start to caress your skin very lightly, making their way to the towel you wrapped around your body. 

“It is time to…” His fingers work quickly to undo the towel. “...take this off.”

He sounds somehow impatient. Maybe just to see you naked or hear the sounds you make while he touches you all the ways he knows you love. His fingers move to your nipple, fingertips grazing over carefully. As he touches you so lightly, another wave of goosebumps washes over you. It's not normal for you to be this sensitive, but your nipples are already hard. Your lips tremble as he moves closer and gives one a long lick.

“God, damn it.” You mutter and he instantly looks up.

“Should I stop?” The way he asks the question shows how concerned and focused he is.

“No, no.” You take a deep breath. “Just be gentle. I’m just…”

“Sensitive, I know.” He smiles and dives back in. His tongue swirls around your nipple over and over again until you start to cry out.

“Fuck!” That’s so unexpected. The pleasure you are feeling is foreign. Nipple play never felt like this before. “It feels so– so good.”

He moves his mouth away with a wet pop just to say: “Yes, surrender yourself to the feeling, darling.” Then he goes back to sucking your nipple, while his metal hand is massaging your other breast. It’s such an amazing change after feeling pain for hours and you can’t help but crave more. Your hips are rising unintentionally. Bucky’s flesh hand moves down to your body, sliding between your folds really carefully, but it makes you push your hips up again.

You've never felt this wet in your life. You are sure your period has a lot to do with it, but god… That’s not the only reason. The way he’s paying attention to your breasts, the way his index finger is working between your folds… It feels like magic. His fingers start rubbing on your clit and the next thing you know you're moaning his name over and over again. Whenever you moan, his tongue becomes more relentless around your nipple. The pleasure hits you suddenly, it takes your breath away.

“Buck–” Your back arches like a bow. “Oh my go–”

He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even hesitate for a second. His fingers and tongue work you through your orgasm until you start to feel a little sensitive. You let a long breath out, proving how satisfied you feel.

Finally, he lets go of your nipple and looks up. Hair messed up, lips swollen and eyes glossy. “How are you feeling?”

“Great.” You breathe out again and it makes him smile widely. So fucking widely… “I feel great.” His hand rests on your pussy while his head is on your upper body. You lean down a little and he meets you in the middle in a messy kiss. God, his lips are the most delicious thing you've ever tasted. They're nearly sweet and just intoxicating.

You sigh loudly, feeling so much better than before. The pain is the last thing on your mind. You actually think about a possible second orgasm already and a little smile creeps up on your lips.

“What?” He asks wondering what you are thinking.

“I think I want a bit more.” 

“Oh, you do?” He is fully smirking now. You just nod while biting one side of your lower lip. “Would it be okay if I put my fingers inside? Would that be comfortable for you?”

“I hope so. We can try and if it’s uncomfortable, I'll tell you.”

“What a good girl you are.”

Before you can say anything in return, his fingers move a little down and he pushes one of them inside.

“Bucky!” The sudden pleasure catches you off guard.

“Sorry, sorry. I will go slow.” He moves himself a little bit up, just to be able to kiss you comfortably. You look at him and excitement is written all over his face. He’s actually enjoying this even though he isn’t getting off himself, and you love how your pleasure affects him. Licking your lips, you close the little distance between you two. 

He kisses you deeply while moving his finger in and out. He’s using just one, but dear god… you are so sensitive. It feels so good even though you aren’t completely filled. Slowly, he pushes the second finger inside, crooking them and rubbing them along a spot where you can see stars. Your mouth suddenly opens as you let out a loud moan. You are unable to kiss him back, it feels like your whole body just tensed up and your muscles stopped working.

“Yes! God, yes.” You manage to say while he keeps on working. “Just like that.”

“Don’t worry, doll.” He speeds up a little. “I won’t stop.”

He keeps working his fingers while kissing your neck. You can feel your second orgasm approaching and it feels so good, but also not enough.

“Please…” You beg without thinking. “Please…”

“Tell me what you want.” His voice sounds so deep, so full of desire.

“Faster. A little faster.” You take a deep breath. “I’m so– close.”

He doesn’t make you ask twice, just starting to move his fingers a little faster and that’s all it takes. 

“Bucky!” You scream so loudly that it surprises even you, but it’s too late to bite your lip. The overwhelming pleasure takes over, making you scream so loudly that Bucky thinks all your neighbors know what you are up to. And he doesn’t care. They should know he is the one making you feel this good. He is the one who makes you forget about your pain and mindlessly moan his name like a prayer.

When you come down from your high, you feel boneless. It’s like your whole body relaxed after the blinding pleasure. Maybe it’s the mixture of the orgasms and the painkiller you took, but you are too tired to care. 

While you stretch your arms, you notice Bucky isn’t next to you anymore. You look around to see where he went and he comes out of the bathroom with another towel in his hand.

“Looking for me?” God, his smile is so smug, but you can’t blame him. The way you just screamed his name without having his cock inside you… That must have boosted his ego. Rightfully so. His fingers are magical. And his tongue. Also his lips. The way he turns you on so much and pulls this pleasure out of you is unbelievable.

“Yes. Why did you leave me?” You know he didn’t but you like to play.

“Just got a wet towel for you.” He kneels in front of the bed, between your legs and you prop up on your elbows to see what he’s doing. He gently moves the towel on your thighs and wipes the blood he smeared while making you scream his name.

“I could clean myself. You didn’t have to.” 

“I know you can, doll. Nobody said you can’t.” He rubs the towel against your slit and you jump a little, feeling sensitive. He notices your reaction and tries to do it more carefully. “I just want to help you.” After he’s done wiping, he folds the towel and puts it away. Immediately after, he grabs your clothes and helps you get dressed: your underwear first (and no, he did not forget about the pads), then your pajamas. In a couple of seconds, you're clean and all dressed up. “Now it’s time to rest.”

You move backward and get under the covers while watching him collect the towels all over the room and put them in the dirty laundry bin. It amazes you how he doesn’t forget about anything. He doesn’t let any small detail bother or worry you. You hear him washing his hands and he comes back with a smile on his face. 

You don’t know how you got this lucky. Having a loving and caring boyfriend like him… Getting taken care of like this… You remember how your friends talk about their boyfriends and how they do absolutely nothing. You know that’s not how a relationship should be, but you also know how rare this is. Your eyes wander back to him while he is getting undressed, showing you how incredibly hard he is. Yet he didn’t even make a move to relieve himself. He didn’t ask for a hand or begged to be inside you like he does sometimes. He put you first and unfortunately that’s even rarer.

He quickly puts on his pajamas and slips right next to you in bed. His arms are already around your waist, pulling you closer. You carefully move your hand down and palm his still rock-hard erection.

“Nope.” His answer is simple yet firm.

“Let me take care of you, Bucky.” You try to say as sweetly as possible. You want to return the favor.

“Not tonight, darling.” He gently moves your hand away. “But I promise, you can do whatever you want to me when you feel better, alright?”

“Alright.” He’s right. You are feeling sleepy already, you can do this another time. 

After all, you are his and he is yours. You have all the time in the world.

He pulls you even closer, putting his head on your shoulder behind your back.

“It’s time to sleep.”

“I love you Bucky.” You say while feeling the weight on your eyelids. It’s hard to keep them open.

“I love you too, darling.”

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! - 9

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

The silence and awkwardness were thick in the air. Jonathan looked at you and said, "Come with me."

You followed him to a private room. He leaned against the billiard table and crossed his arms. "Why are you doing this?"

He was actually impressed with you for having Bucky as your shield. But to take something from Victoria? It wasn't like you, since you usually chose to ignore her.

"Isn't it obvious?" you replied, standing your ground.

He smirked. The way he acted was not like a father talking to his daughter but more like a gangster addressing a subordinate.

"I'll see what you've got," Jonathan said, straightening his suit. He turned to leave the private room.

Before he opened the door, he heard you say, "I still don't understand what you see in her." Your voice was steady, but you didn't look at him.

Jonathan paused for a moment, his hand on the door handle.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He remembered the quiet days with Ophelia and you. It was peaceful but boring.

As a successful man, he wanted to face something that challenged his adrenaline. That's when he met Genevieve. She gave him something that he needed: excitement.

He admitted that he went out of control. That resulted in the death of his first wife. Ophelia's face was still engraved in his memory, especially since your face was a carbon copy of hers.

Ophelia was calm and patient but fragile. You used to act like her, too, and it scared the hell out of him. He wished you to be different from your mother.

Be careful what you wish for. Jonathan should have remembered that saying because you changed into something he couldn't control.

It was exhausting to keep you in place. So when you challenged him to leave the house, he accepted it. And he cut all your resources to see how long you would survive.

His calculations were wrong. You were so stubborn and chose to live with Cassandra, his mother-in-law. He hated that woman. She cursed him right to his face and blamed him for Ophelia's death.

Jonathan said, "I understand your hatred. But did you expect me to leave her?"

"Maybe. Perhaps one day you'll realize that your mistress is a Beelzebub," you replied.

"You're quite creative," he chuckled, then he left.

You turned around and stared at the closed door, clenching your fists. Every word that came out of his mouth made you hate him even more. Your jaw tightened, and you could feel your heart pounding with a mix of anger and frustration.

After the empty talk with your father, you went back to be with Bucky. He saw the lifeless look in your eyes. The lively you had gone quiet. The short talk with your dad had drained your spirit.

Bucky felt your despair as if you were drowning in darkness. He gently touched your arm. “Are you alright?”

You nodded. “I'm sorry I left you alone.” You felt something was missing, but also a sense of peace. Looking around, you noticed Genevieve was not here or your dad.

“She left,” Bucky said.

You raised your eyebrows. It seemed impossible, considering Genevieve loved to be the center of the party.

“I said something that hurt her feelings,” Bucky explained.

“Really?” you asked, surprised that Bucky had confronted Genevieve.

While you were talking with your dad, Genevieve had approached Bucky. “You're really nice for bringing her, but I wonder why you didn't bring Victoria with you? Since she's your fiancée.” She emphasized the word "fiancée."

Bucky was silent momentarily before responding, “I've already talked to Jonathan, and he's okay with it.”

Genevieve sneered, “I never thought a dignified man would act like this.”

“At least I didn’t destroy someone’s marriage,” Bucky retorted calmly.

Genevieve flinched. If someone else had mentioned this, she wouldn’t have been offended. But coming from someone like Bucky, someone more affluent and influential than her, brought back memories of when everyone had pointed fingers at her. She knew she had taken someone’s place—Ophelia, the true Madam Sinclair.

She huffed and left the party. That was when she saw her husband emerging from the private room.

You chuckled. All your life, you had called Genevieve a mistress, and she never budged. Instead, she would give you a look and say, “So what?” But with Bucky, she was so offended that she left the party.

Bucky recounted the exchange, and you laughed softly. “Pfft.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought. “All my life, I’ve called her a mistress, and she never flinched. But one word from you, and she’s out the door.”

Bucky grinned. “Sometimes, it just takes the right person to say it.”

💋💋💋💋💋

Because of your grand entrance, everyone at the party—Celestial Enterprises employees and investors—now knew of your existence.

You were exhausted, and Bucky kindly drove you back to your place.

To be exact, a new home.

Bucky's family moved fast. They weren't kidding when they said they had prepared a reward for saving Bucky.

You walked out of the car and entered the house. The house they gave you was different from your grandmother's house. Your previous home had only two bedrooms and one bathroom, while this new house had four bedrooms and three bathrooms. The incredible thing was that Bucky had provided your grandmother with a 24/7 caretaker and had prepared the best doctor for her surgery.

When you entered the house, your grandma was awake, her bedroom door still open. It seemed she couldn’t sleep because she was in a new place. But her caretaker had done a good job of keeping Cassandra calm and not confused.

Cassandra widened her eyes when she saw you. She opened her arms. “My dear Ophelia. You look so beautiful.”

You smiled and gave her a hug. The dress you wore was designed by your grandmother. She was so talented. In her eyes right now, you were Ophelia wearing the dress.

She noticed someone standing behind you. She giggled and whispered, “You said he’s just a friend. But what is he doing here late at night?”

You blushed at her comment.

“But honey, you can’t let this go on. We’re going to meet the Sinclairs next month.” Cassandra looked at you sadly.

You were taken aback. Did this mean your mom had a boyfriend before she met your father?

You looked at Cassandra, who was already yawning and starting to feel sleepy. You didn’t dare to wake her up and ask what she meant.

Did seeing you with Bucky trigger your grandma’s memory?

💋💋💋💋

The next day, inside the bedroom of a penthouse in an elite neighborhood, outfits were scattered on the floor.

“Uurgh,” Victoria groaned as she woke up with a headache. She saw her phone showing 12 p.m. Shit. She was late for the office.

She pushed away the hand, hugging her waist. “Get up.”

After the humiliation at the party, she called her friends and went wild at the club, bringing home her friend with benefits. He didn't look as good as Bucky, but at least this guy could eliminate her loneliness.

‘Ring.’

“What?” she answered the call with a raspy voice.

“Why didn’t you pick up your phone? Don’t you know we’re facing a crisis? Come to Valerie. Now!” Genevieve sounded panicked.

Victoria could feel the anxiety. Despite the painful headache, she left the bed and threw on the first outfit she saw.

What had caused her mother to be this scared?

She soon found out the answer when she arrived at the company.

You were inside her office, walking back and forth while looking at a sketchbook.

Victoria stormed into her office. “What are you doing in my office?”

You smirked, letting out a small chuckle. “Didn’t you hear? I own 40% of Valerie's shares. That gives me the freedom to go wherever I want.”

Victoria gasped. How? How could you, who had no money, worked as a teacher, and had a limited budget for your grandmother’s medicine, acquire so much money to buy 40% of the shares?

The alcohol from last night clouded her judgment. She should’ve known the answer. It was all because of Bucky.

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Those Who Can || integrated Female Air Force series

Introductory part 1: Flintenweiber, or “Rifle Broads”.

Summary: The American War Effort had conceded to the enlistment and commissioning of women into the Air Force at semi-integrated status. Deemed a more reliable if not safer combat post, the going rank of officer in the Air Force was intended to secure fair treatment and combatant status for these women, as it had for their male counterparts. Like most things in war -or life if one is a woman- such recognition must be fought for.

Authors Note: this is an Au, obviously, and I intend for the de-segregation in the force to not be entirely full, in fact in some ways they would mirror that of the Tuskegee Red Tails where they were held back from many opportunities and placed at a disadvantage, to say the least. However, as this is primarily a POW fic that aspect only effects their reception into the Stalag and the timeline of their crashes.

Inspo: thanks to all of y’all who contributed with suggestions and advice on this fic. I want to say that I based a great deal of the brutal treatment and indignity heaped on these fictional OC’s on the true and horrific treatment of the Soviet Female Soldiers taken as POWs. Taking into consideration that American ties would give these OC’s some leverage, I have moderated these horrors if anything, however as I intend for these girls to be some of the first of their kind, they in many ways endure the brunt of the cruel initiation. If you’ve got any questions or suggestions about this, have at the inbox.

Warnings: 18+ for disturbing content. War, brutality, cruelty, and references to sexual violence. Specifics: a woman’s head is forcefully shaved, a woman is kicked to death, a dog turned loose, concentration camps, brief infighting between Soviet’s and Americans, past tense illusions to rape which are underplayed and may be consequently more disturbing to some. Quite angsty ok?? It’s women at war. Rampant misogyny by Nazis.

Familiar faces: Gale Cleven, Benny Demarco, John Brady, “Hambone” Hamilton

Original Characters: Lt. Maureen Kendeigh (bombardier), Lt. Colonel Ida Brady, Lt. Tallulah Smith 

If Maureen Kendeigh heard the word “degenerate” used one more time in regards to her profession, her sacrifice and skill, -she just might do something regrettable.

By this point she was ready to get off this cattle car and go back to talk with Interrogator Glasses about stupid and unnerving shit like why the clock in the mess hall at Thorpe Abbots had a broken arm. Her distressed inner monologue of “how did he know that??” at the time was preferred to this newest method of demoralization: death by aspersion and suspense.

It was nice to be back with the girls, ones she knew and ones from other squadrons. But that held a misfortune too, the fact that it was just the girls, still not a single male crew member in sight. Apparently the Gestapo and the Luftwaffe were having a spat over who got to keep them, these Flintenweiber: “Rifle Broads”.

In the meantime Maureen and her fellows got punted back and forth between the two institutions like unwanted stepchildren. First the horrible isolation but humane treatment of the Air Force interrogation cells. Then back to the prison where all bets were off and the hope of safety came from a herd-like defense of each other against the ever more erratic guards. In these holdings, if one of their members hadn’t been executed by a pistol to the temple by end of day, it was considered a successful defense by the whole. All other atrocity, indignity and assault were unbearable’s that required bearing for the time being until the Luftwaffe took them back.

And then handed them back over.

And on and on it went.

It was effective, Maureen gave them that, after each hosting by the Gestapo, the girls were softer, tenderized and more susceptible to any deal that might procure them a shred of honor and safety. Only Ida Brady, the most senior amongst them at the incomprehensible rank of Lt. Colonel, had held ranks together, spine of steel and bearing more terrifying than most men’s, she’d fought for every grueling respect of rank they had been afforded. Even if it landed them in harsher conditions, worse interrogations -anything to ensure that what happened to her girls were considered as war crimes against lawful combatants when the time came for justice.

But they’d been collecting the downed girls and holding them apart like prized anomalies while conflicting orders came in from Berlin, and while the Red Cross fussed regarding combatant status. Now they had a tidy number collected, well over twenty by the time Maureen saw Ida Brady pushed into the cell, having been downed with a significant portion of them after Munich.

But now they hadn’t seen Brady in over a day. Not since they’d been loaded on this rail car headed to god knows where by soldiers with the dreaded lightning bolts on their collars.

The SS.

With Brady missing, Maureen supposed that made her and Lieutenant Smith a leader of sorts. Most of her “leading” currently took the form of not responding to a single vile threat or taunt by the guards mingling amongst them in the ever rocking car. Ida would be proud of her emotionless detachment at one guard’s suggestion to let the dog loose and see who it chose to maul.

Lieutenant Smith -tender hearted Tallulah with the bronzed skin and knack with animals that rivaled Snow White’s- had made the cryptic observation in Maureen’s ear that she’d never known a dog could be trained away from the throat to go for the breasts instead.

As of last Sunday they now knew, and none of them were likely to forget.

“I’ll be faster next time,” Smith had mumbled in a simmering rage, “I’ll be faster. I’ll have my fist down that cur’s throat before they finish slipping the leash.”

It was a nice sentiment, would’ve been made more so if Maureen wasn’t so sure it would land dear Smith with a bullet in her head. Would be made more so if Sergeant Forsyth had lived from her injuries long enough to benefit from it. Lots of things would be made nicer by heavier coats and the presence of drinking water.

One of the new ones, a terrified little replacement who wore her ordeal on her face, made the rookie mistake of asking for a drink. She’d been given the predictable initiation of being pissed on by a guard in answer and now she bore her thirst as doggedly as the veterans.

When the train cars rolled to a halt, and the great door was hauled back, sprawling out before them appeared the most idyllic scenery one could ever hope for. A crystalline blue lake, dotted on its border with charming structures adorned with red tile roofs, a quaint church of the same, lush fields and sparkling water and deep forest for miles. Maureen did not think they would haul them so near a town only to execute them. But then what did she know?

Nothing, not even where she was.

When they had lined the girls up, some in worse shape than others and a motley collective group from various military branches, they hauled off Ida Brady to the head of the pack, her bruised face considerably more busted than when she’d been loaded on. Maureen could see her craning her neck as she was drug past, counting down her flyer girls, looking for any missing from the trip.

They were marched, four abreast and with guns at their backs, down a wide and well traversed road into town, past cottages on its outskirts with little garden plots and clothes blowing on the line. Maureen was reminded of the idyllic countryside she had landed in with her chute before being seized and hauled off. There were women and children in row boats on the lake and the path they took through the woods was more peaceful than ominous. A traitorous sort of hope began to bloom in Maureen’s heart.

That was dashed when the tree line broke and out before them stretched what seemed to be miles of wire. And beside it a sign, welcoming them to Ravensbrück -a concentration camp. A camp for civilians, a camp to never return from.

Their new guards were ready for them, smiles on their faces and whips in their hands. Among them were a few remarkable for their sex, they were women too -if women who enjoyed such craft could still be called that. And for all the horror inflicted on them by their male captors so far, there seemed to be a general presentment amongst the arriving girls that the finer arts of terror had not yet been endured.

Standing for hours in the infamous square inside the compound, roll call and registration took on a form of torture yet unheard of. Round and round it went, repetitions of ranks and serials over and over and each time they were met with two alternatives. Renounce the ranks and be admitted as civilians with no further targeted harassment. Or-

“If you insist on being special, we will be forced to make you special.” as one officer put it to Brady’s stone cold face. “Ask your Soviet compatriots, the ones who wanted to be special like you. They claimed to be officers too, and now they service officers in Buchenwald. They have not left their beds in months. Special, no?”

“I’m not ‘claiming’ a goddamn thing.” Brady would go round and round with them in turn and up and down the line was the echo of ranks and serials.

Nothing but ranks and serials.

The minute they dropped one or the other, they’d be freed from this standing purgatory, and they’d be as good as dead. They might wish it were so anyway, if the threat was carried out but they’d suffer as officers, with honor. Whatever that meant this far from home and any appreciation of it. A fresh batch of guards relieved the first and the banter continued, even through roll call of the general camp where a mass of the most miserable specters of female kind poured out of the huts and were made to await the call of their one single number.

A serial for a serial. Maureen would keep hers. By dawn she had kept it, as had all but one of her group, a navy nurse with a broken leg who’d succumbed to the allure of a chair.

Civilian status for a seat.

Maureen thought a drop of water might be her own undoing were it offered, but one look at Smith's cracked yet unmoving lips cemented her in her own determination. As did Ida Brady’s talk, straight back in front of her, trousers bloodied on the inseam but not a cringe to be discerned in her stance.

By morning roll call for the entire camp, their guards were tiring of them, or else thought a new method of persuasion more likely to bring success. Off they were marched to their new billet to “meet their Allies” and what Smith wouldn’t give to have her brass knuckles back when met with a hut full of Soviet soldiers. Females, if females could have shoulders like that. They were impressive women with murder on their faces at the intrusion of a new gang of American blowhards.

“Did you give up already?” The one with the most English taunted and for the first time since capture, Maureen saw Ida Brady’s spine bow backwards just a fraction -a pacifying gesture in the face of the Russian’s nose to nose staredown.

“Hey, we’re not here to make trouble.” she insisted, cool and stern. “Did you?”

“We’d rather die.”

Brady gave a sharp nod, “Then we’re Allies in that, too.”

“Your precious Red Cross won’t come for you here.” That likely verdict seemed to bring the woman satisfaction, and Maureen wondered how many months, weeks, hours of this grueling place it would take before she too took savage satisfaction in another’s misfortune. How long before all better impulse to be glad for others was stamped out and all that was left was crowing self preservation. “You are not the firsts. There were others, Americans, like you, they are now wearing the ink of field whores- or they are dead.”

“One might assume the same of your predecessors.” Brady pointed out mildy, and both groups shifted behind their leaders, ready and tense.

“Anyone who accepts-“ the Russian warned, “-we kill.”

With that incentive clear, a tentative peace was made, which included a few trying to fraternize, converse and share news. There was little that aligned to create any cohesive figure, despite their shared experiences and sufferings.

When night fell they were hauled out for roll call amongst the masses, and together after hours of waiting to be called upon, they answered with their ranks and serials, each in their own language. The Russian who had confronted Brady was beaten so badly she did not rise again after it. The guard left her lying there and asked Brady herself what her occupation was.

“Lt. Colonel in the United States Air Force.”

The unfortunate rookie who had so ill advisedly asked for water on the train stood beside Brady; and got a bullet to the head for her superior’s answer. What Colonel Brady thought of her judgment being given to another did not show, her face white and her lips sealed, only the speckle of blood on her profile stood in stark relief in the early morning.

“Kneel.” a very shiny Luger barrel was pressed, still smoking to Brady’s temple.

She did so, braced for the inevitable execution. A soldier's death, it’s what they’d signed up for. The Kommandant waved over one of the female guards and spoke to her in German. She took off at a run to one of the buildings with a bright smile, and Ida Brady stayed kneeling, the splattered brains of the unfortunate dripping out of her hair and into the leather of her jacket, a mockery of her own upcoming fate.

The female guard returned with scissors. “Your poor hair, so pretty. Now it is ruined.” the Kommandant bemoaned, gloved fingers sliding though Brady’s wet tresses, “See what happens to beauty when you pervert the order of things? Now it must be sacrificed. Perhaps then you will see how ugly you are become.”

Maureen felt Smith’s restraining arm before she had even registered her impulse to charge forward, caught about the middle she strained against her friend's surprising strength and in the end was forced thusly to keep ranks and watch with the rest as the Nazis fucks scalped the Colonel of her femininity with a pair of sheep shears.

Dribbling blood down her face and shaking with rage, Ida was in better shape than her Russian counterpart. When her ordeal was over, she rose again, even if she swayed dangerously upon doing so.

And when asked, she had her serial at the ready.

Crowded back into the hut, Maureen and Smith watched the Russians hopelessly fuss over their insensible leader, knowing all too well how likely it might be that they could be found doing the same tomorrow, in a week’s time, who knew. For now, Brady sank down against the wall with the rest of them, the scowl of her formidable brows deflecting any potential commiserations for her battery.

When the navy nurse was pushed into their hut next evening, a dead silence greeted her. One of the Soviets, a sniper by her markings, came up to her and unceremoniously tore open her shirt. If the girls had doubted the Russian’s warning about “wearing the ink of field whores” upon their skin as mere hyperbole, such speculation was removed. It was a dreadful tattoo, large and damning as was the reaction it elicited amongst the servicewomen.

By the end of the night there were two dead bodies on the hut floor. And it didn’t seem to matter who had killed which. One had died for honor, the other for giving it up. And in the end? Where was this ephemeral honor? Ida Brady could only find it in the tense faces of her girls, lining the room from their places along the wall, waiting for another roll call or worse.

But in war, as in peace, sometimes the dead sent favors and in this instance it came to them with screams of:“Amerikaner Soldat!” in the middle of the night. They were marched out to the square and stood to attention once more in the sweep of the spotlight, all the while were shouts of “Amerikaner Soldat!”

All they knew was the bitter waiting in the gray dawn chill and the choking anticipation of some sick, final joke, or some methodical mass execution. Maureen wished she could knock her shoulder into Ida’s one last time and tell her she’d been a rock -she was a rock- but Brady stood there in front alone, as was her privilege and her curse. Talullah Smith would not meet Maureen’s side eyed glance for a farewell. Maureen wished she had less of a roar inside her, wished she could step off calmly into whatever was on the other side but the idea was repulsive, even after all she’d endured, and she looked about in vain for some semblance of the same revolt on her fellow’s faces.

What came instead was the dreaded whistles and the order to march. They were marched right out of the gates and down the idyllic lane they’d been marched up days ago, back through town to the railway station. There the soldiers herded them back up into a cattle car that smelled more of death than livestock, and then the train pulled away, hurtling south -perhaps the only one to do so with living cargo.

There were no guards inside the car, only the cramped space to keep them docile and the lack of promise that the great door would ever grind open again.

“The hell do you think happened?” Maureen hissed to Ida, finding her superior propped up in the corner in a suspiciously casual pose that she suspected hid a limp and unfathomable fatigue.

“Haven’t got a clue, Kendeigh.”

“Maybe someone got word out.” Maureen suggested, thinking of their predecessors, thinking of the useful dead.

“Or we’re headed to a nice rural dumping ground.” was all Ida would speculate. “Or brothels.” she added after a long minute.

Maureen chewed her cheek and kept peering out the slats at the beautiful countryside flashing past. “Well, at least they’ve ensured you’ll be least wanted of the bunch at such an establishment.” she joked and watched with the careful precision of a trained bombardier as her mean joke landed and Ida Brady’s legendary eyebrow ticked up in something that might have been amused disbelief, had she any energy left for such a display.

“Pistol whipped in the mouth and still no respect for rank, Kendeigh.” Brady observed and it was so like her brother John’s flat lined humor that Mauren’s heart throbbed with something alarmingly akin to sentimentally. For John Brady -and all the other lucky souls still at Thorpe Abbots, God willing. “I’m not laying on any damn beds for them.” Brady suddenly broke the silence again in a low voice, one Maureen knew was meant between officers only.

She pitched her head closer in agreement. “Me either.”

“I don’t care if they shoot me first,” Ida went on, as if reciting it to herself, “-and I don’t care if they shoot all of you first. I’m not going to.”

“Wouldn’t want you to.” Maureen agreed again, vacillating briefly in her intent before proceeding to say, “That Sergeant -she wasn’t your fault. The nurse either.”

“I know that Lieutenant.”

“I know you know,” Maureen muttured, “but some stuff bears repeating. Places like these, we’re liable to lose our bearings without a little repetition.”

“Mm.”

Maureen shuffled beside her and wracked her brain for pleasant conversation, something besides the Soviet girls they’d abandoned and the skeletons they’d seen at Ravensbrück. “Ya know,” she remarked tiredly, “if someone in here’s hydrated enough to pee, I might be ready to drink it.”

Brady slowly turned from her view out the slats to give Maureen a blank faced stare. “Should I make an announcement or are you hoping to keep that between us?”

“Oh hell, Colonel,” Maureen grinned, mischief bubbling to the surface at the first chance, “I wouldn’t trust anyone else but you, liable to get stds from this lot.”

“Kendeigh.” Ida hissed warningly but there was that disbelieving wobble to her stern mouth, “That’s not funny -not with where we’ve come from.”

“It kinda is.”

“It’s not.”

“It is- a little. Admit it, a little.”

“It’s not.” And still her cheeks were pink with suppressed amusement, just like John’s got when Maureen pressed him on a dig about basic training.

“You sure you’re ok?” she ventured again, eyeing Brady’s extensive injuries visible above her clothes.

“Yeah?” Ida looked nonplussed, “I mean -what’re you ranking as ok, these days, Lt. Kendeigh?

“It’s just,” Maureen bit her own busted tongue briefly as a spur to get it out,

“-you’re bleeding a lot, Ida. Couldn’t help but notice.”

Ida Brady didn’t even glance down at her trousers or make a motion to feel her lacerated scalp, instead she answered in the same, almost bored way she always did, “Yeah, Candy, it’s called being a good Catholic.”

Maureen blinked. “Oh. Oh Shit.”

“You know, maybe some of you girls had the right of it,” Ida actually winced before staring back out the slats, “go off and do it ahead, in peacetime. But here I am, twenty seven and as sacrosanct as the Virgin Mary, dropping into occupied territory. What could go wrong!” To her credit, her snort was wonderfully genuine.

Maureen kept after her, “You signed up to fight, to get fought against. We all did -never this.”

“Mm, well, couldn’t choose a better gang to get put down with.” Brady smiled, begrudgingly raising an imaginary glass of her own to Maureen’s already raised one.

“To bitches who bite back.” Maureen toasted.

“To bitches who bite back.”

——————————————————-

Two cases of MIA troubled John Brady the most: Egan, who he had seen jump first after their dispute, and Maureen Kendeigh who he had learned from Blakely had jumped over Bremman. That’s two flyers who should’ve been here by now, before him even, in the case of Kendeigh, and yet they weren’t.

He went round and round the argument with Cleven and Crank and Hambone, all three downed from separate missions yet here together - proving his point. Cleven held staunchly to the belief they were being kept segregated, as befitted their ranks and sex. They could be one sector apart and not hear of them. It was the only hopeful response, it was a leader’s response. There had been women downed before Kendeigh, not many but a few of the escort fighters, and none of them had showed either. Brady wasn’t sure that was a good sign at all.

“So where’s Egan then?” he’d always hit back with, “They mistake his shoulders’ for a dame’s?”

“I dunno John.” Cleven would reply with that newly blank gaze of his somehow enhanced by the twin cuts on his cheeks.

Demarco took Brady aside when he arrived to tell him that whatever had happened to Cleven in interrogation wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t ethical. Those cheek scars weren’t both due to flack. Like a dog with a bone, Brady took this already suspected information about his stoic superior and ran with it, pointing out hotly to an uninterested Demarco, “if it’s happened to Cleven, what about them?”

“What can we do about it?” Was Cleven’s demand that always wrapped up the little circular arguments as they sat huddled in their hut. “Red Cross knows they’re not here, no colored flyers either. They know where they are. What can we do besides ask after them?”

He was right, there wasn’t anything, but still, like a presentiment hung over him, Brady found himself leaning on the wire each time a new batch was marched in, counting heads and scanning faces.

“Ida hasn’t even been shot down, John.” Crank kindly reminded again and again.

“As of two weeks ago.” John snapped.

As of two weeks, and then as of three, and then it became four and -where the hell was Kendeigh? Gale had stopped arguing when the subject came up, apparent but impotent fury slowly racking his wiry frame, face gone wane already above his grimey fleece collar. Winter wasn’t even here and they were fading.

And then it happened, what John had been waiting by the fence for, and boy was there a crush at the wire to see them marched in when they came up the muddy enclosure through the gates.

“The fuck are they bringing the women here for?”

“They don’t belong in here, bastards!”

“Ar’those Brady’s Banshees?”

“They’re not gonna hold ‘em here are they?”

Like he’d been reanimated by the presence of a cause, Major Cleven cut his way through the rabble to the front, addressing the German officer escorting them.

“Hey, hey you can’t bring them in here. They’re women, they belong in their own section.”

“If they are women,” the Commandant pointed out, not unkindly, “then perhaps your country should have recognized that before enlisting them? They belong here.”

Cleven shook his head, vehement in his conventions and rules, “It’s not right, you know it’s not.”

“Then tell your Lt. Colonel to stop fighting for combatant status.” he jerked his chin towards Ida Brady and Gale’s eyes widened at her injuries and tufted hair, “The SS had them tucked away at our most prestigious female camp. But they would not accept. They want to be men.”

“Combatants!” Gale argued the point Ida had been making since her feet touched occupied soul.

John Brady yanked his arm, whispering urgently in his ear, “She’s makin’ sign to me, torture, she says. Don’t fight it, Buck.”

Cleven searched the battered faces, some he knew like Ida, T.Smith and Maureen, and some from other squadrons, -ones who must’ve been damned unlucky to get captured considering their safer postings.

“If it can happen to you it c-“ John Brady was a bit of a pain in the ass, Cleven had found, but he had never found him to be wrong.

“Roger, loud and clear, captain.” Cleven warned him his point was made with a bite in his own tone.

“Have we come to an understanding?” The Commandant, amused by the fluster his female charges had caused, it was ample proof that women could never be fully integrated, not even by a society so pervertedly equal as the American’s. “Ja? Sehr gut. It wasn’t like you had a choice anyway, was it?

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Feedback is a writer’s life blood, let me hear your thoughts and screams, they mean so much to me.

We have so many prompts already thrown around for this AU, I can’t wait to explore them, and I welcome any more if you have them.

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[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Happy Little Family" Prompt/Teaser Post:

Your heart ices over as you see him there - holding your baby. "No," you breathe.

"Look who it is!" he coos happily. He smiles at your terrified visage in the doorway and kisses June's head. "We missed you, Mommy."

"And then the knight took the princess away to his castle, and they lived happily ever after."

You're just outside the nursery when you hear his voice, and ice cold fear instantly floods your chest. You drop the laundry basket and run into the room, and there he is: seated in the chair you nurse from, reading one of the antique fairytale books that your mom gave at the shower, holding your baby.

"James," you breathe, horrified.

He's been smiling down at June, but now his face smooths out as he looks up at you. He isn't frowning or glaring, but you know him, and there's a storm behind those eyes that makes dread curl heavy in your stomach. "Hi Doll," he says quietly. "It's good to see you again."

Your heart pounds in your chest. You feel sick. One wrong move and who knows what he'll do. You take a cautious step forward, eyes searching James' body and anywhere nearby for a gun. You don't see one. You take another step. "James," you warn,

June makes a happy gurgle at seeing you, and James coos down at her, "Aw, yeah sweetie. I'm happy to see Mommy too."

Mommy. Hearing that word come out of his mouth, in a setting like this, is a nightmare you've woken from more than once. You lick your lips and hold out your arms, pleading, "James, please give her to me."

He acts like he hasn't even heard you, smiling and tapping June's body with one finger. "We were just reading a story. Little lady is gonna be a big reader one day, I bet. Gonna grow up to be real smart." His gaze slides back to you, with what you interpret as a world-of-hurt-coming-your-way look glimmering in his eyes. "A clever, tricky little kitty cat. Just like her Mommy."

📖"Daddy's Home"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, evil baby daddy, evil-ex, dubcon/noncon, threats and coercion, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

Story Masterlist

@cjand10, @violetwinterwidow01

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Series Masterlist

Tag List: @a-beaverhausen @ranisingsnew @ronswhoree @susannahmikaelson @skulliecadaver-blog @yeaiamme2 @nataliewalker93

Compelling Tony Stark to plan the party was surprisingly easy.

Klaus had found that Tony was an exuberant, spirited and animated person who was much too into over indulgence so when he announced a birthday party for his dog, no one was shocked. His dog was old and a loved member of their family so it worked out and the irony was not lost on Klaus, knowing that James forcing his daughter to go to a birthday party for a dog after what he had just done to her dog was a cruel and painful thing that her father wouldn’t think twice about but that she definitely would.

Waiting was the only painful part of his plan and so he distracted himself by focusing on getting Y/n away from New York. Just from listening to her talk and watching her for the last few days he knew she loved rainy/cloudy weather, preferred having privacy, and wanted to be around nature. He had found a perfect house in Washington state that he knew she would love (and knew her father would have trouble finding) that was in the woods away from other people, in a rainy place with plenty of privacy and a maid and chef already hired to work the house. Not to mention he will have an army of Hybrids to help protect his mate as soon as he finds a wolf pack to turn (which in Washington won’t be hard). He bought everything she could possibly want and everything he thought she would like, especially as his Princess had absolutely no experience in sexual situations and he would be able to teach her everything he wanted. An inexperienced Princess with Daddy issues? She would be so eager to please she would give him anything he wants.

The party came about a week after him getting shot and he stayed off to the side away from as many people as possible unless Tony was “introducing him” to one of James’ friends, thinking it would be beneficial to have them compelled to like him at the very least.

From the moment she walked in, Klaus couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. He wanted to rip that dress off of her, she was gorgeous and he found himself mesmerized, even as he felt the glare James Barnes had set on him as Klaus wasn’t exactly being subtle about him ogling his mate. James directed Y/n into one of the rooms with himself and his wife while he went to schmooze with the assholes and Klaus waited, watching his girl and watching James as both himself and his wife began drinking with Tony (as Klaus had compelled Tony to do to excess) before approaching Y/n.

She was sitting in the corner alone with the long forgotten “Birthday Boy” who was a white XL Pitbull named Ghost.

‘Mind if I join you?’ Klaus asked and her head jerked up in surprise.

‘Oh, sure, if you want. Though I’m sure you would be much more comfortable over there.’ She nodded her head over to a group of women by the bar. Parties for people like these men always have the option of women to take home, many of the men never getting married and staying “terminal bachelors” as if it makes them attractive. Klaus believes it just makes them stupid. You have everything except someone to love you and give you a family but you’re content with whores for the rest of your short life? At least Klaus had eternity to find Y/n, when you don’t have that kind of time and you waste it you are just stupid.

Y/n had noticed the girls that had been watching him for the better part of an hour with flirty faces, twirling their hair but he never gave them a second glance which Y/n noticed immediately. Growing up here, every man, even the married ones, stared at those sort of girls at every party but this attractive seemingly single guy isn’t…it struck her as odd but she brushed it off until now.

‘No, here is perfectly comfortable, thank you…I’m Klaus. It’s nice to meet you.’ He held out his hand and when Y/n moved to take it Klaus pulled her hand close and leaned down, pressing his lips to her knuckles, never taking his eyes off of hers.

‘It’s lovely to meet you Klaus. I’m Y/n Barnes, though I’m sure you knew that.’ He could instantly see that she had issue with her name when it came to meeting people.

‘I did know that, Tony told me earlier when you arrived, why are you so sure though?’

Her eyes widened and she stammered a moment. ‘B-because-Well because everyone does. People want to get on my fathers good side and they act like getting to know me first will achieve it. A little advice, just so you don’t fuck yourself on this one. My father hates men talking to me, so getting to know me first is a terrible plan, he’s going to hate you before he even meets you so you should probably just go introduce yourself to him.’

Klaus found the sad look in her eyes to be heart breaking. Her entire life she wasn’t allowed friends, boyfriends, interaction with anyone who didn’t work for her father and even at these parties, something she should enjoy if not just for the human interaction, all anyone and everyone wanted was to get to her father. Men flirted with her and made her feel desirable just to pull the rug from under her by wanting to get on her fathers good side.

‘Thank you, that was very kind advice. However I have no interest in your father, I was just hoping to sit with a lovely girl and have a drink…can I get you a drink?’ She looked stunned but shook it off before nodding her head.

‘Sure Klaus, that sounds nice.’ He moved to the bar and got her a glass of wine and him a bourbon before returning to the couch, sitting on the opposite side of the dog, wanting her to move closer at her own pace knowing it will make her feel more comfortable. ‘Thank you. Are you a new friend of Tony’s? I’ve never seen you here before, the faces here are always the same so it’s easy to spot a new one.’

‘Yes, we met a few weeks ago and he invited me to this, said he wanted me to meet some of his friends. I’m a painter you see, and Tony has bought some of my work, he knows some other men here who love art and might like my paintings.’ Y/n smiled at that, loving that he wasn’t another asshole just trying to use her.

‘Oh wow, I would love to see your work sometime. I admit I’m not much of a great judge but I enjoy seeing how people’s interpretations of art differs from others.’ Klaus couldn’t keep the smile from his face, loving her honest and intelligent answer before standing and holding out his hand for her to take and she did, following him out of the room and into the den to see the paintings that Tony had bought from Klaus as an explanation as to why he’s here. ‘My God, Klaus! These are amazing…I like seeing artwork that makes you feel something…they feel angry but in a sad way, like…like a grasping for control sort of way.’ He watched her face as she looked at his work and he loved that he could make something that could make her smile. ‘Oh God, I’ve offended you, I didn’t-‘

‘Not at all gorgeous, you’re quite right actually. Painting is a metaphor for control. Every choice is mine, the canvas, the color. As a child I had neither a sense of the world nor my place in it but art taught me that one’s vision can be achieved by sheer force of will…you have no control in your life either, do you?’ She looked back at him away from the painting and he instantly reached out to brush away the tears in her eyes, hesitating only a moment as she flinched before gently brushing her tears.

‘How long did it take? Finding your place in the world?’ She asked and he wished he could give her an answer.

‘I have no place in the world…however finding people that you love and being with them makes it all worth living with the little control that you can have-‘

‘Why can’t I have all of it? My father gets to have complete control of everything in his life, and I’m just…’ Klaus took Y/n’s hand and pulled her to sit on the desk, looking at her firmly.

‘Listen to me Princess, your fathers control is an illusion, it’s called money and it’s not real. It’s a social construct that we put way too much worth on and pretend it means we rule the world. Your father is a billionaire, right?’ She nodded. ‘And with that he has men with guns to enforce his rules and push his sense of control on everyone, but if that money was gone that control wouldn’t exist. It’s not real. I mean look at me, I have billions of dollars in money, artifacts, paintings, jewelry, but I don’t try and rule the world. I control my life and what’s important to me, that should be enough…you should be enough and if you’re not then…then he doesn’t deserve you Princess.’

Klaus was sure to leave out the part about him planning to have an army and control much like that of her father but it didn’t matter, because he would do that and still take care of and love her the way her father didn’t.

The next thing he knew Y/n had grabbed ahold of his jacket and pulled him down to press her lips against his. He couldn’t say he was surprised, or displeased, resting his hands on her waist and taking control of the needy kiss. For having no experience she was actually quite good at it and she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her against his chest.

Just as Klaus was about to trail his hands down to her skirt they both jumped, hearing her name being shouted. ‘Hide!’ She whispered harshly.

‘Y/n-‘

‘No time for arguments, I’m not letting you get shot! Hide! Now!’ Y/n pushed him behind the desk and he sighed, crawling under it after pulling her in to kiss him one final time.

‘This isn’t over Princess, you’re mine now.’ He warned, enjoying the blush on her cheeks before she moved back around the desk to the wall where she looked back up at the painting before the door opened and Klaus could hear Steve’s voice.

‘Did you not hear me calling you?’ He questioned, exasperated.

‘No, I heard you, I just didn’t care.’ It took everything in Klaus in that moment not to laugh.

‘Y/n-‘

‘I would appreciate it if we kept all speaking to a minimum of what is absolutely necessary. Why did you come looking for me?’

‘Your parents are leaving, time to go home.’

‘Fine. Let’s go then, I want a shower and my bed.’ The door shut a moment later and Klaus moved quickly, crawling out and returning to the party before anyone suspected anything, watching the family leave.

He was happy to finally know what her lips tasted like on his own but it wasn’t enough. He would have her.

Tonight.

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All the Good Girls Go To Hell 9

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, power imbalance, and other possible triggers. 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 come home for the summer but your break is not as relaxing as you expect.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Note: Look, I can’t stop myself.

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 <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

There’s a drilling in your skull. Splitting and cavernous. Your eyes slit. Too pained to open them fully to the deadly sheen of sunlight. What’s going on?

You groan and drag your hand up beside you. Your muscles hurt, your body is like sand, you feel as if you’re moving through mud. You touch your forehead and lift your eyelids a little higher. The room is blurry but you recognise the fuzzy shapes around you. You’re at home. Safe.

You rub your head for a moment then reach blindly over. You feel around until you find your glasses, already unfolded on the night table. You put them on, still laying flat. You stare at the ceiling as you gather your strength.

You remember dinner. It was awkward and you couldn’t wait for it to be over. But nothing else comes after Steve went to get dessert. You can’t recall. 

You push your hands into the mattress. Your arms shake as you lift yourself, sitting up only to hunch forward, stomach stirring violently. Ugh, you feel awful.

You look down at yourself. You don’t even know the last time you wore these pajamas. They’re almost too small. The tight white top with the daisy in the middle and the matching shorts that show a bit too much of your ass.

That question persists; what happened? Something had to have. How could you forget almost a whole night? You don’t know how you got to bed or how you got changed or anything. You just don’t know and that scares the shit out of you.

You turn and hang your legs over the side of the bed. The task of standing is daunting. You feel hollow and weak. You slide closer to the edge until your toes meet the floor. You grip the night table and get up, staggering slightly.

Your feet come down heavy as you cross the room. You can’t help it. You can barely raise them enough to walk. You clutch your stomach and lean on the door as you open it. You go across to the bathroom. You have to pee so bad it hurts.

You roll down your shorts and sit, letting out the pressure with a sigh. You feel hot down there, a little irritated. Relieved you stand and fix your shorts. You wash your hands and look at yourself in the mirror. You are an absolute mess.

You go back into the hall. The fabric of the tee is rough against your nipple. Goosebumps rise on your skin despite the humidity caught in the space. You lumber to your doorway, rubbing your sickened stomach.

The hinges of your mother’s door groan and you lean your shoulder on the wall as you face her. She scowls as she stands in a robe, her eyes groggy, and her posture slumped.

“You’re up,” it sounds like an accusation as she comes down the hall, “about time.”

You’re confused by her anger. You don’t understand. Something must have happened.

“What do you–”

“You can start by apologising,” she sneers.

“What? I didn’t–”

“You did. You chased Steve off last night. You made a real fool of yourself, you know that? And me too.”

“No, I can’t– I don’t remember–”

“Oh, you don’t remember? You don’t remember?” Your mom barks. She’s never spoken to you like this. You flinch and cling to the trim of the doorframe. “No wonder. Sneaking wine behind my back. I was generous enough to let you have some and you go and do that. Get drunk and insult my fiance–”

“Fiance?” You blink, “how– you aren’t even divorced.”

“That’s paperwork,” she hisses, “and besides the point. You humiliated me. And you upset him. I can’t believe you.” She grimaces, “I can’t believe you’re acting so innocent. I know you were buzzed but there’s no way you blacked out. You know what I’m talking about.”

“Mom, I don’t– Mom!” You round your eyes wide, “I didn’t sneak any wine, I swear. I barely finished the one I did have. And then it’s all…” your heart drops, it couldn’t be.

“What? What are you saying? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“He put something in the wine. Steve, he–”

“No, enough. Stop. I will not hear it. Do you understand me? You don’t blame your bad decisions on him. Got it? And that sort of accusation, that’s rotten. I didn’t raise you like that,” she snarls.

“I’m not lying–”

“Oh, you’ve gotten real good at that,” her nostrils flair, “he told me about the boy you’re texting. Yeah, he saw the alerts on your phone. You’re not very coy. I should ground you for the summer–”

“Ground me? I’m nineteen–”

“Then act like it. Maybe I can’t, but I don’t wanna see you. Not for a while.” She looks away as tears wobble in her eyes, “maybe you should call your father.”

“Mom.”

“I have to go and see your aunt. I’ll be home around noon. I don’t want you here. Go hang out with that boy or your friend.”

You gape at her. She won’t even listen to you. Won’t give you the chance to explain. You don’t even know what you did and she won’t tell you. How can you make it better if you don’t know?

“Please–”

“I mean it,” her throat constricts and she looks past you, “when I’m ready to talk, you will apologise. Not just to me, but him.”

You open your mouth but quickly snap it shut. You know there’s no arguing. Her mind’s made up. You saw her like this very few times in your life, mostly with your father. She always got her sorry.

You step into your door and watch her go by. She doesn’t glance back as you stand dumbfounded. Your head throbs as you try to sort through your thoughts, to follow any thread that leads back to last night. Nothing.

You spin slowly and close your door. You tramp over to your bed and sit. As you do, you feel a hard shape against your thigh. You grab it and untangle your phone from the blankets. You flip open the screen, your face triggering it to unlock.

You don’t have any new messages, at least, no notifications for any. You pull up your conversations and see Bucky’s convo at the top, labeled simply, N’s dad. He sent several texts before eleven.

‘Was thinking you might want to come for another swim some time soon. Maybe you can give me some tips on the dating game.’ Followed by: ’Hope dinner’s going well.’

Several other messages with the same sentiment. You’re just happy he didn’t send anymore photos. You hid the other ones he sent in the chat.

You swipe away from his conversation. You search your contacts for your dad’s number. You hit the phone icon and put it on speaker, cradling your head as it pulses. To your surprise, he answers on the first try.

“Hey, what’s going on, kiddo?” He says from the speaker. You hear noise around him, like cars and young voices; children.

“Hi, dad, I was just… checking in.”

“Oh yeah? Haven’t heard from you. Summer treating you well?”

There’s whispering. He mutters something you can’t make out as the microphone scuffs.

“It’s good. I was just thinking I should come see you. We can catch up.”

“You know what, honey, maybe in a few weeks. I’m taking Sharon and the kids up to the lake–”

“Sharon?”

“Yeah, when we get back, you can come meet her…”

You tune out as he goes on. Sharon, the kids. Hers, by the sounds of it. And they’re going to the lake, just like you used to.

“Honey, honey…” your dad repeats and brings you back.

“Sorry, uh, that sounds fun. I… you sound very busy. I’ll call you back.”

“Alright, love ya,” he chimes.

“Love–” the line cuts.

You stare at the ended call and toss your phone beside you. You hang your head, rubbing your temples as you hear the same word echoing. Honey, honey, honey. But it’s not your dad saying it. It’s a low raspy voice, droning over and over as a tickle flutters in your core.

You whine and shake your head. You don’t have much choice. Who knows, Naomi, despite her flaws, has always listened. And you told her, you’re starting over. You made your boundaries perfectly clear.

⛱️

You don’t go straight to Naomi’s. You’re still not sure about it. Not just her, but Bucky. You hope you’re not giving him the wrong idea. You haven’t really encouraged him. You don’t think.

You stop and hit a drive thru to grab lunch. You drive down to the park and eat behind the wheel of your car. You still don’t feel right. You feel off. Like something is missing. Almost as if days have passed since you were last conscious.

You finish your food and drain the last of your milkshake. You shove the garbage in the paper bag and hide it behind your seat. You shouldn’t show up empty-handed. 

‘You’re the first friend who doesn’t just come in, get what they want, and leave.” Bucky’s words come back to you. It explains a lot about Naomi, actually. You treat others how they treat you and all that.

You head towards the suburbs. It’s well after noon. No going back home. Not yet. Your mother usually needs time to cool down. 

You see a big sign shaped like an ice cream cone and you pull into the lot. You’re close enough that the sundaes will last until you get there. You order two banana splits and carry on. Maybe Naomi will just let you sleep all day. As heavily as you slept, you feel like you didn’t rest at all.

You pull up the drive and stop behind the range rover. You get a wave of deja vu as you get out of the car and take the sundaes from the driver seat. You set off for the front door and nearly shriek as the figure that pops up from behind the roses hedges that edge the tiled walkway.

Bucky holds a pair of gardening shears in gloved hands as he greets you with a hearty laugh.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his skin glistening with sweat. 

He has no shirt on and damp strands of hair dangle around his face, free from the ponytail pulled behind his head. You calm yourself and force a smile.

“No problem, um… didn’t Naomi say…”

“Oh, yeah, it’s fine,” he waves off your explanation, “so how was dinner? Special occasion or something?”

“Um, not really. Well, my mom had her boyfriend over. She wants us to get to know each other,” you shrug, “her and my dad are divorcing so… it’s awkward.”

“Ah, been there. Twice.” He cringes and clicks his tongue, “it’s a lot of work being married. Dating, too. All of it.”

“Uh, yeah,” you try to ignore his allusion to the chat, “well– oh, uh, I got you something. Um, I didn’t wanna just come over.” You open the bag and carefully lift out one of the plastic container, “sorry if it’s a bit melted.”

“For me?” He acts like you’re handing him a pile of gold, “wow, thanks,” he takes it, “you didn’t have to– how did you know I love banana splits?”

“Lucky guess,” you arch your brow, “well, er, I have one for Naomi too so I should get that to her.”

“What did do to deserve you, doll?” He grins.

“Um,” you look down and fish around in the bag again, “a spoon too.”

You hand over a plastic spoon and he accepts it with another thanks. You hold your tense smile before you turn and climb the steps to the door. You peek back as you hear him pop off the lid. His blue eyes are on you.

You turn and twist the handle, letting yourself inside. You slip off your shoes and call Naomi’s name. You carry the bag inside with you as you get no answer. You go further and further. She sweeps out from the hall.

“Ah, you’re here!” She squees and claps her hands.

“Yeah,” you say, “I brought ice cream.”

“Oooo,” she grins and bats her lashes prettily, “perfect. I have the funnest day planned for us.”

“Great,” you say as you hand her the bag.

She takes it and twists on her heel, leading you to the kitchen. She takes out the container and examines the content. The spoon falls onto the counter and peels the wrapper off.

“I can’t eat all this alone,” she looks at you, “grab a spoon from the drawer.”

“Oh, I already–”

“Please, I can’t eat if you’re not eating. That’s rude. And hon, didn’t we agree that we wouldn’t be rude?”

You nod and wring your hands, “yeah, I guess.”

You look in three drawers before you find a spoon. You got to stand beside her as she saws through the banana with her fork. You take a small scoop of the ice cream.

“So, it’s going to be so awesome. I wanna take some photos. For my social media, you know? And you can help me. Also, you can keep an eye out for B– my dad,” she rolls her eyes, “he snoops so much.”

“Photos?” You swallow.

“Eee, it will be so fun!” She says giddily, “and then we can play a game.”

“Like, uh, a card game–”

“Truth or dare,” she smirks, “it’s always fun, isn’t it?”

“Oh, I… I’ve never really played.”

“Even more fun,” she slides the spoon into her mouth and sucks it clean with a hum. She pops her lip off of it and licks them clean, “you can ask or do anything you want.”

[cynic-spirit]

Chinese

In the expansive, luxurious office, Yn sat quietly in a corner, engrossed in her book. The room was filled with the low hum of negotiation as Bucky, Steve, Nick, and Sam were deep in discussion with a Chinese businessman, Mr. Zhang, and his assistant. The atmosphere was tense, with every word carrying weight.

The negotiation was conducted in English, but at one point, Mr. Zhang turned to his assistant and whispered in Chinese, “最后一刻退出，让他们蒙受损失。” (Translation: "Back out at the last moment, make them incur the loss.")

Yn's ears perked up at the words. Realizing the malicious intent behind Mr. Zhang’s statement, she couldn't let Bucky and his friends fall into such a trap. Setting her book aside, she stood up and approached the group with a calm yet determined expression.

In fluent Chinese, she addressed Mr. Zhang sternly, “你怎么能这么不诚实？你打算在最后一刻退出，让他们蒙受损失，这不是谈判的正当方式。” (Translation: "How can you be so dishonest? Planning to back out at the last moment and make them incur the loss is not a fair way to negotiate.")

Mr. Zhang and his assistant were taken aback, their faces flushing with surprise and embarrassment. The room fell silent as everyone turned to Yn, astonished by her sudden intervention.

Bucky's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and admiration evident on his face. He had no idea Yn spoke Chinese, let alone that she would step in to protect them.

Yn turned to Bucky and the others, switching to English, “Mr. Zhang just told his assistant that they plan to back out of the deal at the last moment, causing you to incur the loss. I couldn't let that happen.”

Bucky's expression hardened as he turned to Mr. Zhang. “Is this true?” he demanded, his voice icy with anger.

Caught off guard and realizing he had been exposed, Mr. Zhang stammered, “I... it was just a misunderstanding...”

Bucky didn't wait for further explanations. He stood up, towering over Mr. Zhang. “We don’t deal with dishonesty. Leave now, and don’t ever come back.”

Steve, Nick, and Sam quickly moved to escort Mr. Zhang and his assistant out of the office. The Chinese men, now thoroughly humiliated, left without another word.

As the door closed behind them, Bucky turned to Yn, his expression softening. “Yn, you just saved us several million dollars. I don’t know how to thank you.”

Yn shrugged with a small smile. “I just couldn’t sit by and let them cheat you. It was the right thing to do.”

Bucky’s admiration for Yn deepened even further. Not only was she incredibly intelligent and multilingual, but she also had a strong moral compass and the courage to act on it. He was utterly smitten.

Steve clapped Bucky on the back, grinning. “You’ve got a good one here, Buck. She’s got more than just brains and beauty.”

Bucky nodded, his gaze never leaving Yn. “Yeah, I do.” His voice was filled with genuine affection and respect. “Yn, you’re amazing.”

Yn felt a warm blush rise to her cheeks but simply nodded in response, grateful to have been able to help. The bond between her and Bucky grew stronger, rooted in mutual respect and admiration.

[thesugarclubs-blog]

Stargazing - Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: brothers best friend, seven minutes in heaven, summer party, smut, 18+

word count: 10.5k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1452954096-stargazing-sterling

vibe: “Yeah. I was thinking we could sneak out tonight and watch the fireworks by the lake when everyone else is too drunk. You down?”

Bucky stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

“I’d go anywhere with you.”

Masterlist

Sterling pulled on a black tank top over her light blue bikini top and stared at herself in the mirror. She ran her fingers into her blonde hair and flipped it to the side, her hazel eyes moving over herself as she twisted to look at her ass in the mirror. 

Her brother's annual "Kick off to Summer Party '' at their lakehouse was the biggest party the town had ever seen and it was the first where she and her friends had been invited officially. Every other year they had to crash, but this year Steve had just told her to come. 

"Okay, we get it, you're hot," Aria groaned and laughed from her bed, throwing a discarded tank top at her. "You know Bucky already knows that, right?"

Catching it with ease, Sterling hurled it back at her best friend, biting back a smile "Shut up," she replied, rolling her eyes, "Maybe I want to look hot for you, did you ever consider that?" 

"At least I'm already in your bed, now's your chance," the redhead winked, flopping over onto her back and opening her arms.

With a cackle, Sterling launched herself at her friend, wrapping them both in the sheets as they tussled. Aria’s cries of protest quickly turned into howls of laughter and she finally managed to push Sterling back off her, making her land on the floor with a thump. The air whooshed out of Sterling’s lungs and she pushed her now-tousled hair out of her face.

“One day you’ll give in and admit you want me,” Sterling grinned.

“What, and take Barnes’ place in your affections?” Aria snorted. “As if.”

“Give it upppp,” Sterling whined, rolling her eyes as she clambered to her feet and straightened her hair.

"You know it's not like that," she continued. "We're just friends, that's all." Sterling shrugged at her friend, who just raised her eyebrows in response. Sterling couldn't blame her though. She wouldn't believe herself either. 

"Just friends?" Aria responded, unconvinced. 

"Yeah, just friends." Sterling repeated, trying to sound somewhat believable. 

"So you don't mind me asking him out?" Aria asked teasingly, knowing she hit a nerve.

Sterling's whole body stiffened and she swallowed the irritation growing in the back of her throat. It was true, she and Bucky were just friends. But sometimes, it felt like the line blurred. They stared at each other for way too long sometimes. But that happens, right? He had become a fixture at her house over time. Whenever he wasn't there, things felt... empty.

"You can do whatever you want," Sterling replied, her tone clipped.

Aria narrowed her eyes, her mouth curling into a sly grin that made Sterling's stomach drop. She wasn't going to have this conversation right now. Or ever. Bucky was off limits.

"Wow, you are pissed at me!"

"Nope." Sterling shook her head.

"Yes you are!" Aria teased. "You know what I think?"

Sterling turned back to study herself in the mirror, trying to ignore the anxiety pooling in her stomach.

"I don't, actually," she laughed. "And we should get going."

Aria was still teasing Sterling playfully as they both left the bedroom and made their way to the great room. The music making the floor reverberate the closer they walked to it.

"Sterling," a voice called from the kitchen. "Come here and give me a hand."

"You do know I'm a guest, not the kitchen maid, Bucky. "

"I know that, I just don’t have enough hands," handing her a bowl of chips, and nudging her out of the kitchen in front of him.

He followed closely, Sterling could feel the heat of him always just one step behind her as they made their way across the living room to the table already laden with snacks and bottles of sweet premixed drinks in buckets of ice. 

Aria caught her eye as she hovered, wiggling her eyebrows and being as unsubtle as possible. Sterling shot her daggers and with a quick shake of her head shooed her friend away. It didn’t work. 

“…to see you at one of these things.” Bucky’s rumbling voice caught her attention. 

“Huh?” 

“I said it’s nice to finally see you at one of these things.”

“Um yeah, my brother is finally letting me be among the cool people.” Sterling set the plate and bowl down that she was holding, letting her eyes wander over the man next to her. His dark hair was tied into a small ponytail, his steel blue eyes trained on her. That’s where her eyes stopped wandering and she allowed herself to stare into them for a second. 

“I think you’re pretty cool, Sterling.” Bucky said more to himself than to her.

The blush that crept across her cheeks felt hot as he stared at her. Years of watching Bucky flirt with other girls Sterling always had this deep seeded jealously that he was giving all his attention to them. Just begging for him to take notice of his best friends silly little sister without anything ever changing but today he had noticed, today he was talking to her. 

"I'm just lucky Steve invited me," Sterling sighed. 

"I think he ranted for two hours last weekend about how we didn't need a repeat of last year when you showed up already drunk with..." He paused, his tongue darting out over his bottom lip, "Aria! And both of you needed puke buckets by the end of the night. " 

"The most embarrassing night of my life," I wanted to hide my face. 

"You and I remember that night differently," he smiled over at me and ran a hand over his head as the moment grew warm and tense. "Steve claims at least this way he can keep an eye on you."

"And still he sent his best friend to play bodyguard," Sterling shot back, ripping her eyes off him and watching the table with snacks again. 

"Who said that Steve sent me? Maybe it was me that wanted to make sure you're okay this time." 

She felt his eyes still on her and it was enough for a shiver to run down her spine. No matter how big the urge was to look at him now, she knew she couldn't give in, because something in the blue of his eyes made her feel things in her stomach, she didn't like to confess. 

He was her brother's best friend. That's all.

She wouldn't let Aria's words from earlier infest her mind.

Sterling let out laugh, doing her best to seem nonchalant about Bucky’s presence and the way butterflies were fluttering about her insides. 

“Much appreciated, Barnes.” She smiled, “I think I’ll be ok though, I know how to be a good girl.” 

Not a millisecond passed after the words slipped from her lips and her hand was flying to her mouth. The heat creeping up her neck unbearable from the embarrassment. 

“I- I didn’t, I mean,” She stammered, mentally cursing herself and her racing mouth. When she looked up, Bucky was biting back a smile, his soft pink lips curling slightly and she was just waiting for the comeback. 

“I’m sure you do,” he chuckled, “I just want you to have fun Star, if that ends with you and Aria puking  your guts out again I’ll be right there with the buckets.” His words every bit as genuine as they always were, left floating between them as he turned back to the kitchen. She could her heart lurching in her chest, the impossibility of them looming over it. 

“Could you gimme a hand again here?” Bucky called back. 

“Yeah, yeah.” She answered, shaking her head before whispering. “For fuck’s sake Rogers, get a hold of yourself.”

Sterling took the two bowls of dip he handed her and turned and walked them to the snack table. “Did you grab spoons for the dip?” She called. 

“Not yet,” Barnes answered.

She could still feel his lingering gaze as she turned and walked back into the kitchen to grab them. Keep your cool. He’s Steve’s best friend.

Letting out a short breath, Sterling shook her head once, and stood at the snack table, organizing the bowls and ignoring the heat radiating through her body. It was far to early in the night for soft glances and butterflies. 

As she reached her hand into a bucket of ice to retrieve a drink, a large hand clammed down on her wrist as an arm was slung over her shoulders, pulling her almost backwards off her feet. 

"What do you think you're doing kiddo?" Steve grinned, as he squished her cheeks together. 

"Ow, get off!" Sterling tried to stifle her laugh as she ducked out of his arm and pulled away from her, "God you're annoying when your friends are around," 

Steve gasped and his hand went to his chest, "I'm offended! I'm suppose to be annoying all the time, I really need to step my game up here" 

"Please don't," Sterling rolled her eyes with a smile, "and in answer to your question, I was getting a drink! Isn't that what you're supposed to do at a party?"

“Yeah and you remember what happened the last time, right?” Steve hooked his thumbs into his belt, his hip jutting out in the most accusatory stance Sterling had ever seen. “I’m not keeping your hair out of your face this time.”

Sterling opened her mouth to protest but she didn’t have time.

“Don’t worry, Star. I’ve got your back,” Bucky said, wrapping her hair around his hand and giving it a sharp tug. “I’ll hold your hair if you want me to.”

The interaction made her blush, whether it was from the embarrassment she felt or because Bucky's hands were merely inches away from her neck. 

"See? Bucky's got my back," she grinned at her brother, trying to play it cool as Bucky slowly let go of her hair,  "And besides, that was ages ago. I can handle what's in my cup." She winked at her brother, who didn't look amused as she got herself a cold drink out of the bucket. 

Just when Steve was about to comment on her behavior, Bucky interrupted him by pulling Steve close and putting an arm around his shoulder. "C'mon Stevie Wonder, I heard your girl is here," he said, patting his best friend's chest a few times. Sterling watched them walk through the door, as Bucky's head turned around slowly, leaving her with a wink.

Sterling blew out a breath.

"Be cool. It's Bucky."

Off-limits Bucky. Hot, blue-eyed, messy-haired Bucky in a baggy blue dress shirt and a tight white tank top that was incredibly slutty and transparent. Somehow, more slutty than the time he was wandering around in nothing but a pair of jean shorts.

Boisterous laughter and warm greetings filled the house as more guests started to arrive. Sterling took a big sip of her drink. She could still feel her hair wrapped around Bucky's knuckles, and his breath on the back of her neck. She gazed into her cup like the answer to her problem was written at the bottom in big, bold letters.

"Are you hiding in here?" Aria asked, bouncing into the room.

"No," Sterling scoffed. "I was getting a drink."

"Sure, and the blush on your face has nothing to do with Miami Vice out there?"

Sterling rolled her eyes.

"Are you capable of shutting up?"

"No," Aria replied, grabbing herself a drink. "I'm a professional yapper."

"So are we going to watch the dips all night or are we going to get this party started?" Sterling bumped her hip into her friend and knocked her off balance before skipping out onto the deck singing loudly and definitely slightly off key.

Aria stopped beside her, "Hey bitch," she laughed, "don't forget who your wingman is tonight."

Sterling grinned back, taking a drink from her cup as she looked around at the group of Steve's friends currently hanging out on the lakeside.

It was the perfect night for it, Sterling decided, as she and Aria wandered outside to join them. The sky was clear as anything, and she paused, tilting her head right back to see only black slowly begin to twinkle with a plethora of stars. More and more appeared the longer she stared and it was only when her neck began to ache that she let her gaze fall again, rolling her shoulders. 

She felt his eyes on her before she spotted him again, huddled in a semi circle with Steve and their friends Bruce and Natasha. Bucky brought his own bottle to his lips, blue eyes on Sterling even as the rest of them laughed at something Steve said, unbelievable on its own never mind with Bucky looking at her like— 

“We seem to be in the habit of moving then stopping and then… Sterling, babe, are we gonna mingle or what?” Aria whined. “I wore my itty bitty big titty dress and not a single person has laid eyes upon these bad boys yet.”

“Then they must be blind.” 

They walked into the crowd that was forming on the makeshift dance floor on the grass, music blasting from the speakers as they found a spot on the outskirts of the crowd. Sterling moved to the fast paced beat until she noticed a pair of blue eyes trained on her. There he was again. As if his only mission tonight is to remind her of how pathetically down bad she was for him.

"Blind cowards," Aria threw her hands in the air and yelled over the sound of bad 90's pop. 

Sterling stared at Bucky, tipping her head to side with a smile on her face as Aria danced sultry circles around her. She quietly hoped that they weren't all blind cowards and maybe she was worth the trouble that would come with flirting with her brother's best friend. Just for a second she had hope that Bucky felt the same. 

It was so hot that the more they danced and drank the faster the sweat pooled on their skin. They must have been on the dancefloor for an hour before her feet started to hurt and her head became dizzy. Sterling felt alive as she ran her hands over her body and threw her hair to let the breeze lick at her neck. 

"In a room full of cowards," Aria whispered in Sterling's ear and spun her around by her fingertips. Bucky hadn't taken his eyes off her, even as people held conversations around him, it was like they were the only two people at the party.

It was only in the moment his tongue darted out to lick the beer off his lips, that Sterling forced herself to look away. Heat pooling in her lower stomach that was very clearly not the result of the sweaty dancing session. 

“I- I need to grab another drink,” she slightly stuttered towards Aria, but the redhead only nodded at her, occupied with dancing to one of Steve‘s friends. If Sterling remembered correctly, his name was Scott. 

Her hurting feet carried her back inside the house and towards the large fridge. The cool air hit her like a rock but she kept standing for a little longer, trying to get rid of the unwanted heat she had just felt.

“Don’t you think you had enough alcohol already?” Bucky‘s voice echoed from behind her and Sterling was frozen on the spot, shoulders tensed and eyes closed to use this short moment to regain herself as best as possible.

“Barnes I don’t need you policing my drinks too,” Sterling answered, sharper than she had intended to. She whipped around a water bottle and a seltzer clutched in her hand. 

“Just a joke Sterling, relax.” Bucky declared, hands raised as a sign of peace. 

Sterling closed her eyes and took a deep breath, “sorry, I didn’t mean to bite back at you.” 

And it was true, she hadn’t. But the feel of his eyes on her had her on edge. The mixture of the heat and alcohol swimming through her was messing with her head and he was certainly not helping her case. 

“I just wanted to check on you, you left the floor pretty quick.” He confessed, a shy closed lip smile on his face, the icy-blue of his eyes almost eclipsed from the alcohol he’d had. 

“I’m fine… just hot,”

“Hot…” Bucky countered. “You do look a little… flushed.”

Sterling flushed brighter as she closed the fridge door. “It’s… it’s hot out.”

"It is." He agreed quietly with a nod.

Sterling was fighting to not fidget with the bottle label as they both faced each other in the kitchen, the silence only adding to her nerves.

She opened her bottle and took a long sip, careful of how Bucky's gaze was fixed on her. No doubt keeping count of how many she would drink tonight. The flush of embarrassment heated her cheeks as memories of that last party hit her again.

"I'm not–"

"Do you wanna–" 

They both smiled awkwardly, Sterling tipped her bottle in his direction as a sign for him to continue.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bucky smiled sheepishly, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. 

Sterling stared at him for a moment, a little perplexed, and then laughed awkwardly.

“Ohhhhkay then, Barnes,” she chuckled, saluting him as she walked backwards for a few paces before turning and heading for the dance space.

Trying not to over-analyse the strange encounter, Sterling began to lose herself in the music again, her arms in the air as she swayed to the beat.

“Fuck it,” a low voice murmured close to her ear and she felt a scalding presence at her back.

One large hand rested on her waist and another wrapped around her middle, the fingers splayed out on her belly. Her head lolled back against Bucky’s broad chest and she let her arm curl around his neck as they swayed together, his hips matching every movement of hers.

Sterling’s stomach did backflips as she moved her body along with Bucky’s. She swore she could feel everyone staring at her. At them. But when her eyes scanned the party, everyone was either off in their own worlds while they danced, or fully engrossed in a conversation.

Even her brother.

Her breath hitched as she watched Steve howling with laughter while he took big sips from his red solo cup. Bucky pulled her closer, and she felt his lips brush against her ear.

“You seem tense, Star.”

His voice was a gentle purr that made the hair on the back of her neck and arms stand straight up. She felt like she was swallowing sand, and it was hard to get air into her lungs. 

Bucky hummed, his confidence growing… along with something else. 

Oh, God.

Sterling just kept moving with him as one of his hands slid down to grasp her hip. Her heart was pounding as she kept staring at her brother. Steve was now gesturing wildly, no doubt telling some dumbass story she’d probably heard a thousand times. 

Bucky’s soft laughter wasn’t doing anything to help her anxiety, or the heat pooling between her thighs.

“I think you’re drunk, Barnes.”

“I’ve barely had a drop,” he purred. “The room didn’t start spinning until you walked into it.”

"Smooth, real smooth Barnes," turning in his arms so that she was facing him, his arms remaining encircled around her but his hands were now on her ass and she was pressed firmly against him. 

Sterling slowly risked looking up, his eyes were fixed on her face, as if daring her to pull out of his embrace, as their hips continuing to move in unison.

She let her gaze flit over his features, closer than she'd ever been to the little dimple in his chin, hidden by dark stubble but still there and just asking for her thumb to be pressed to it as her nails scratched over his cheeks and the gap between them closed and— was it getting hotter out here or? 

"Looking a tad frazzled there, Little Rogers," Bucky chuckled lowly, fingertips pressing just a little firmer and making her gasp. 

"You know I don't like it when you call me that," she replied, swallowing thickly when Bucky's lips tugged up into a devilish little smirk, his cloudy-blue eyes crinkling at the corners. 

"I got plenty of other nicknames for you, maybe we could—" 

Bucky didn't get to finish because Sterling's idiot brother hollered over the music. "Buck! Beer pong! Get your ass over here, we need you to even out the teams!"

“Big Rogers out here ruining everything.” Bucky murmured before turning on his heel and leaving Sterling on the dance floor, his touch still imprinted on her skin, lingering like little flames.

Bucky stopped, turning back for a brief moment. "I'll make you a bet," he said over the music and Sterling rolled her eyes at him. "Oh come on," a playful smile spread across his handsome face, "are you scared, Star?" 

"No, but bet's never end well." She said, wrapping her arms around herself. 

"If I win at beer pong with your brother, you spend seven minutes with me in the hallway closet." He offered. 

"Do you even understand that you just mixed two games together?" She giggled, her heart racing. "And if you lose?"

Bucky stepped forward another inch even as Steve was hollering for him to hurry up.  "I spend seven minutes with you in whatever closet you want." 

Sterling swallowed roughly and ran her tongue along a few of her top teeth. "You're serious?" She asked and he nodded. "Sounds like you win either way."

Sterling watched as Bucky raised a brow at him. “Oh? Don’t think I don’t notice your little looks and lingering stares.”

He leaned closer, his lips just a hair’s-breadth from hers. 

“You ever catch me staring back, Star?” He grinned, a smile that sent thrills down her spine, and then his lips ghosted across hers as he laughed - low and rumbling in his chest -  before pulling away to join Steve.

Sterling remained frozen in place, her chest heaving and her thoughts reeling. Her hand flew up to press against the swell of her breasts in an effort to calm her pounding heart.

Bucky looked annoyingly triumphant as he made his way over to Steve.

“You feel like winnin’, Cap?” He asked.

“Hell yeah!” Steve replied, high fiving him. “We still need one more, though.”

Sterling sighed, running her hand through her hair as she approached the table. Steve quirked a brow as she joined the other team.

“Seriously?” He laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Sterling retorted. “Afraid you’re gonna lose?”

Bucky’s eyes burned into her, his lips curling into a devilish smirk as he slowly shed his dress shirt, revealing his toned arms. He said he’d been working out, and goddamn did it show. Sterling swallowed hard, wishing she’d had more alcohol so that she could process this a little easier.

“Not at all,” Steve replied, grabbing his sunglasses and sliding them onto his face dramatically. “But just so you know, Buck and I are on a hot streak.”

“Is it ever embarrassing being you, Steve?” Aria laughed as she sauntered past the table.

Steve turned to her, flipping her the bird as she settled into a chair and pulled out her phone. Sterling’s buzzed in her pocket and when she pulled it out, she found a text from Aria.

Ten bucks says you fuck Bucky by the end of the night.

Sterling shoved her phone into her pocket, casting Aria a dirty look. God, she was a pain in the ass. And what was worse? She was probably right.

"You with me, Angel?" Asked the guy standing next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as Sterling took her position beside him.

"Hands off, Frank," Bucky growled, reacting before Steve could. Sterling was already shrugging his arm away.

"I'm just here to play," she rocked on her heels in place, looking Bucky straight in the eyes as she settled in her position. "And I intend to win."

"Not as much as we want to see you loose." Steve responded, getting the last cup filled with cheap beer. 

"Oh I bet Bucky wants to see me win," she smiled, "but I can see why he wants me to loose, too. I mean, I'm good a playing this game but I think there are other games I'm even better at." 

Bucky coughed, almost choking on air. He definitely didn't expect that, which made Sterling even prouder. 

"You good?" Steve asked him. 

"Yeah I'm fine," he coughed, "just a bug." He lied and glanced at Sterling who smiled at him teasingly. 

"Let's go then," Steve said and started to throw the first ball, landing it straight in on of the cups right in front of Sterling.

Sterling clicked her tongue while Steve flashed her a shit-eating grin.

“What was that about winning?” He asked. “Buck? Did you hear something about Sterling winning?”

“Nah, she said she likes to lose… that’s what you said, right?” Bucky teased, eyes shining with mischief. 

Laughter rippled through the small crowd that had now gathered to watch them, with Aria looking like the fucking Godfather sitting in her chair with her big sunglasses on. Sterling grabbed the ball out of the cup and set it down before throwing back the entire thing. The beer was cheap, causing her to pull a disgusted face. From across the table, she heard a shutter click and looked up to see Bucky snapping a photo of her.

“Nice face, Little Rogers. I think I’ll put your humiliation on a t-shirt.”

Oh, now you want to play?Sterling set the cup down and picked up the ball, aiming for the middle of the table. It bounced in a perfect arc, landing right into a cup that sat right in front of Barnes. Her teammates cheered, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her gently.

“Fuck yeah!” 

Bucky frowned and Sterling flashed him a big, sunshiny smile.

“Drink up, Bucknasty.”

Bucky winced as he swallowed the warm liquid, and opened his eyes just in time for the flash from Aria's camera. The look on Sterling's face matched his previous expression.

Steve limbered up, before grinning across at them, rolling the ball in his hand before bouncing it once and landing it perfectly in the cup closest to Frank.

"Don't miss," It was Sterling's turn to threaten her partner.

“I won’t miss, I’m a pro at this.“ Frank slurred, clearly drunk already. This was all on her. No matter how this game ended, she would definitely end up with her tongue down Bucky‘s throat but her competitive streak got the best of her as Frank let the ball bounce off the table. She groaned, throwing her hands in the air. Alright, guess she’s winging this on her own.

"Frank, buddy... How many cups do you see right now?" Steve laughed. 

Frank hiccupped, "maybe thirty three?" 

"Good luck, Star." Bucky winked and lobbied his ball across the table, a clean drop into one of the front cups. "You're going to need it."  He said as Steve missed his throw and Bucky ate his words. 

Sterling surveyed the situation, there were four cups left on their side of the table and four on hers. It was even for now but if she had a chance of winning-which she did-she would need to stack the odds for her less than helpful partner. 

"I want a rearrange." She announced, and her brother started laughing. 

"So early?" Bucky cocked his head to the side and pretty smile formed as she nodded and swirled her hands around. "Alright, as you wish." He shook his head and rearranged the cups for her. "How's that? 

"Better," Sterling steadied her shoulders as the butterflies danced around in her chest, "Frank, aim short?" She instructed him, knowing that given his current depth perception, short was long. "Can you do that for me?"

"I can do anything for you," Frank smirked and leaned close to her but he was cut short by the sound of crushing plastic and they both turned to see Bucky leaned over the table. "Simmer down, Barnes."

Sterling caught Bucky’s eye, her eyebrows rising and teeth pressed into her bottom lip as she held back a little laugh. 

“I’ve got my eye on him,” Bucky mouthed with a quick cock of his head towards Frank. 

“He’s nothing to worry about,” Sterling mouthed back, just as Frank pressed all of his weight against the table to throw the ball, clumsy and with absolutely zero skill. It bounced off the nearest cup and skittered over the edge of the table just as Frank heaved and rushed off. 

“You puke anywhere but the toilet Frank and you’re a dead man!” Steve called after him. 

“Perfect,” Sterling grumbled, “and you can wipe that smirk off your face, Barnes.” 

Sterling grimaced slightly. “I refuse to clean anything up if he misses.” She eyed her shot and easily bounced the ping pong ball across the table. It bounced against the rim of one cup before landing in another.

"You think you can win all by yourself, Little Rogers?" Bucky quirked a brow, before downing the liquid in the cup. 

Letting out a breathy laugh, Sterling shook her head, "I was carrying this team anyway, if you think you can scare me now, you have something else coming"  She smirked, running her hands into her hair, pulling it up into a ponytail before stretching her head to the side, all while keeping her hazel eyes on his. 

Bucky's tongue darted out over his bottom lip as he watched her movements. She could see his jaw tick in the low light of the white fairy lights that hung around the porch. Butterflies took over her chest once more, but Sterling knew she'd gotten to him too. 

"Come on, man," Steve slapped his hand against Bucky's chest with a ball, "It's your ball"

Bucky puffed out his chest, making a not so subtle show of flexing his muscles as he lined up his shot. Sterling pretended to find the entire thing obnoxious, but she couldn’t get over just how beautiful his hand looked as he flexed his wrist. His fingers were…

Long

Heat pooled in her stomach as Bucky’s eyes twinkled. 

“You know, they call me the sniper,” he purred. 

Sterling put her hands on her hips, her mouth forming a thin line.

“Are you gonna throw that thing, or—“ 

With a flick of his wrist, the ball bounced on the center of the table before bouncing right into the cup in front of her. Steve thrust both arms into the air before wrapping them around Bucky and shaking him as Sterling’s team groaned.

“YEAAAAAHHHH!”

Bucky arched a brow as his team celebrated around him. He leaned up against the table, his eyes gliding up and down her body. Sterling retrieved the ball and as she choked down the disgusting, lukewarm beer that definitely had a few blades of grass in it, she felt someone pluck the ball from her fingers. When she looked up, Bucky was drying it on a towel, handing it to her.

“Looking forward to that seven minutes,” he purred, keeping his voice low.

Her gaze flitted to her brother, who was focused on trying to pry open a bottle cap with his teeth while everyone cheered him on. Sterling, feeling the alcohol starting to take hold, snatched the ball from Bucky's grasp and leaned forward. Electricity crackled between them and Bucky's eyes lit up like fireworks.

“Are you sure you can last seven minutes?”

He chuckled, his face bright red as he swiped a hand through his hair, some of the strands from his ponytail coming loose.

"I don't need seven minutes to make you come--"

Her heart raced, legs wobbling, and before she could utter another word, the sound of riotous applause erupted around them. Steve triumphantly spat a bottle cap onto the table. Bucky winked at her as he retreated.

"Gotcha, pretty girl."

"Girl. The tension. Fuck me." Aria appeared beside her, sunglasses pushed down to the tip of her nose as she peered at Stirling over the top of them. 

Sterling reached out, taking the drink from her best friend's hand and chugging back the last of it. She was gonna need it, or possibly something stronger. The pair of them stood there, gazes following Bucky until he disappeared inside with a Cheshire Cat smile and one last glance over his shoulder. His broad, muscled, shoulder. Sterling was screwed. Or she was gonna be if she could unstick her feet from the floor and follow him. 

"If you don't go after him, I will," Aria murmured, tapping Sterling on the ass. "Chop chop." 

"He can't be serious, right? Like I know we've been doing whatever this," she flaps her hands around, "is all night but—" 

"Go. After. Him." Aria urged. "No man looks at a woman the way Bucky's been looking at you if he isn't serious."

“Girl, if you don’t move your sweet ass inside, I’m never speaking to you again”. Aria gave her a playful shove in the direction of the door where Bucky was waiting for her. The man that she dreamed about but never thought would show any interest in her. Finally her legs started moving and with a slight wobble she stepped inside of the house where she passed a few people making out on the couch in the living room. Seemed like those two were having fun. The first door to her right was open and the blue dress shirt tied around the handle. It was like she was on a scavenger hunt and she just found the most precious treasure waiting for her.

The room was empty when she finally found the nerve to push inside. It was one of the empty guest rooms, with a big bed and standard set of suite furnishings. It was just as warm in the room as it had been at the party and Sterling was getting increasingly bored of Bucky's games but she wasn't ready to let the fuzzy feeling in her chest fade just because she was annoyed. 

For all she knew this was her last shot with Bucky and she wasn't going down without a fair fight. 

"Bucky," she called out to him but he didn't answer. "Come on, this is silly." 

"I'm cashing in my seven minutes, little Rogers." His voice was low and drifted from the open closet. 

"You can't be serious!" She laughed and wandered around to find him sitting on the floor, his arms angled back behind him to hold him upright as his chin titled to look at her. "It's hot out here, it's probably a sauna in there."

"Better lose some layers then," He smirked and sat up, extending his hand with a wiggle, "rules are rules, get that cute little butt in here."

He thinks I’m cute? 

Sterling took a breath before reaching out her hand, letting Bucky link their fingers together before pulling her into the closet with him. 

She laughed as her knees hit the carpet, quickly finding his eyes as they practically stared into her soul. “What now?”

"Now," his low voice sent shivers down her spine. His blue eyes turned a dark, stormy shade as they roamed over her face, the bop of his Adam's apple slow and nervous.

"Now you let me give you seven minutes of heaven," Bucky declared. 

Heat sang across Sterling's skin as his fingers grazed her cheeks, pulling her closer until they shared air. It was hot and tempting but she still held back, that last breath between them like a wall guarding her.

"Please Star.." he begged, voice a little hoarse and soft lips barely brushing her own. "Let me kiss you."

Her breath caught in her throat as almost every other thought in her head drifted away. All that was left was Bucky and flashings of their relationship leading up to this moment. The way his shoulders tensed every time she talked about another person that she was interested in. The way his gorgeous blue eyes seemed to follow her movements every time she danced around the kitchen when she cooked. The semi-unnoticeable protectiveness she'd always experienced from him. 

Despite her feelings, Sterling had always passed it off as him feeling like she was a sister to him because of Steve, but now, in this moment, the shake in his voice and the way he waited for her answer, it felt different. 

Before she realized what she was doing, the blonde nodded her head slowly as she pressed her body forward into him until the tips of their noses brushed lightly. 

With a soft shake of his head, Bucky tangled the ends of her ponytail into his fingers gently, "Words, sweet girl," he swallowed, "please, I need to hear you say it" 

Sterling let a smile grace her lips as she nudged her nose against his once more, "I want you to kiss me, Bucky," she whispered. 

With that, Bucky let out a breath and closed the gap between them, capturing her lips with his, softly but with as much passion as she needed. Sterling felt every nerve in her body fire as butterflies swarmed her belly. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his white shirt, pulling him impossibly close and needing to be closer, despite the heat of the cramped closet.

His hands cupped her face, thumb gliding over her cheekbone as he nipped and sucked on her bottom lip. She whimpered against him, fingers clawing at his tank top, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin underneath it. Bucky groaned as he broke the kiss, dipping his head to drag his teeth along the sensitive skin of her throat. She hissed and he pulled her closer.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this.”

“Tell me,” she rasped.

“Last summer.” His voice is low and gravelly, sending shivers all the way down to the tips of her toes. “You were parading around in that little pink bikini. You know how hard it is for a man to concentrate when all he's looking at is your perfect little ass?” 

He sucked on her earlobe as she dragged her fingernails over his abs. Abs that he took so much pride in. She wanted to run her tongue along them. 

“You liked it?” She breathed.

Bucky let out an almost inhuman groan, grinding his hips against her thigh. 

“I took cold showers every day because of you and that goddamn bikini,” he confessed, pulling back. His lips were bitten red from kissing her and his eyes shimmering. “So yeah… I liked it.”

Sterling leaned forward, so that she could feel his breath quicken as her fingers roamed higher up his body, her lips brushed his again as his hand moved to the back of her neck and he pulled her closer, his tongue touching her lip, asking for permission to deepen the kiss.

Sterling dipped her chin, barely a nod, and Bucky huffed out a soft breath as if he couldn't quite believe they were doing this, hidden in a closet like a couple of teenagers. 

And then his mouth was on hers again, hot and slow, tongue slipping just between her lips and dragging along the sensitive skin until Sterling shivered, letting out a quiet gasp and giving Bucky the perfect in to lick into her mouth, curl his tongue around hers. 

He took his time, an indulgent exploration of her mouth and body. Sterling's heart hammered, bloody rushing in her ears as Bucky murmured something against her lips, incoherent babble that was so far away from his usual cool demeanor that she couldn't help but giggle.

"That sound," Bucky moaned as his body tensed and leaned into her excitingly. "That giggle drives me nuts," he whispered against her skin as he kissed a peppered line of fireworks across her jaw to her ear. 

"What else?" Sterling said opening her neck up to his lips as his fingers tangled into her long blonde hair. 

"You're going to think I'm ridiculous." He huffed as her lips found his again. 

"Tell me," she urged and squeezed her legs around him, "you've got time, at least five more minutes in heaven." 

Bucky laughed against her, "I use the bathroom on the main floor when I stay over because it's the one with your shampoo and I crave the smell of it when you aren't around." He whispered and pulled back to gauge her reaction. 

"God, that's adorable," Sterling smiled so wide her cheeks hurt. "So all this time?" She questioned.

“All this time,” he nodded. “I’ve been on eggshells around Steve but… I can’t hold back anymore.”

Sterling licked her bottom lip, staring into his ocean-like eyes. “Neither can I.”

"Thank god," Bucky groaned, pushing her body back against the wall and entrapping her there with his own as his lips found that sweet spot where her jaw met her neck once more. He licked a strip up her skin, setting it ablaze as her stomach did backflips. 

"Bucky," Sterling breathed, racking her hands into his hair as a small whine escaped her lips, "kiss me" 

Once more, he obliged the request, ghosting his lips over her jaw before capturing her own, sliding his tongue against her. His hands drifted over her body and slid up under her black tank top, curling into skin.

“Bucky,” Sterling whispered softly in between kisses. His fingertips felt hot on her skin, making her think about other places where she wants them to touch her. 

“Did I ever tell you how much I like you saying my name?” Bucky’s breath felt hot against her throat as his hands kept on exploring her body, stopping right beneath the clasps of her bra. “I could never get enough.” His lips found hers again, devouring the taste of them as Sterling pulled him closer to her, getting a stifled moan in response. 

She smiled at his reaction to her. 

“So you like that, huh?” He smiled against her lips. 

“Uh-huh.” She nodded, her eyes closed as she tried to catch her breath. “A lot, actually.”

“Tell me what else you like, princess,” he whispered.

“I liked you in nothing but those jean shorts you wore last summer,” Sterling rasped. “Was that to get me back for the bikini?”

She grew bolder, popping open the button on his jeans and dipping her fingers below his waistband. Bucky let out a whimper, his voice breaking as her mouth hovered over his. Every time he tried to kiss her again, she pulled back. His frustration was palpable and he pulled her closer, one hand reaching up to wrap around the back of her neck. Sterling smirked at him, licking her lips and watching his eyes focus on her mouth.

“You like to tease, don’t you?” Bucky asked.

“And you don’t?” Sterling countered. “You were eye fucking me at the beer pong table.”

Bucky’s fingers pulled open the strings of her bikini and he took her bottom lip between his teeth, tugging on it until a pathetic whimper spilled from her lips. His free hand dove between her thighs, teasing her pussy over her shorts.

“I do like to tease, but when it comes to you, I’m tired of playing games.”

Sterling gasped as Bucky increased the pressure on her pussy

"Oh, you like that, young Rogers," he teased, smirking as he leaned forward to return his lips to that spot below her ear that had already made her squirm.

She whimpered as his other hand sneaked under her top, his fingers tracing a trail up her rib cage, reaching her nipple and squeezing it gently between his forefinger and thumb.

Sterling’s breath caught in her throat, skin tingling as Bucky’s worked her nipple to a hard little peak. His fingers grazed over the swell of her breast, cupping her gently and bunching up the fabric of her top as he moved. 

“So soft, Star. I knew you would be but, fuck. Can’t believe I get to have you like this.” 

“Bucky,” Sterling breathed, head falling back as Bucky pressed the pads of his fingers firmer over the denim of her shorts, making her belly swoop with anticipation. “Please. Oh, God, please.” 

The roughness of his stubble on the sensitive skin of her neck mixed with the warmth of his mouth was driving her crazy, her whole body thrumming with it until Bucky drew his hand away. 

“You sure you want this?” He asked, voice low and soft as he pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. 

“It’s you,” Sterling murmured, “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

The button on her shorts was the next to go. Bucky flicked it free with ease and pressed his hand down between her bikini bottoms, tickling his fingers deeper until he found the wetness that pooled between her thighs. 

"So wet for me," He cooed and nibbled on her jaw as he helped her open up just enough to dart his fingers across her clit.

"Bucky," she whined, arching into his languid touch as he began to massage small circles.

“I know I said we would stay in the closet,” he murmured, then licked up the side of her neck. “But we might need to… spread out…”

Sterling groaned, feeling pleasure spark through her body. “I don’t care where we are… I just want you.” 

Blindly she reached for his shorts once more, and was quickly rewarded when she heard him moan.

“Take me to your room,” Sterling whispered.

Bucky’s cheeks flushed and he groaned as she wrapped her fingers around his cock. He was thick, and throbbing in her hand. Sterling watched as his eyes fluttered closed, stroking him languidly, her thumb gliding over the tip of his cock.

“F— fuck!” He hissed. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

She giggled, nuzzling up against his cheek.

“I’ll give you more than my hand if you take me upstairs.”

She’d never seen Bucky move so fast, pulling her hand out and zipping up his jeans. He grabbed her hand and stuck his head out of the closet door, glancing around as a strand of dark hair fell into his face. Sterling could only stare at him as he listened hard. Outside, she could hear Steve’s boisterous laughter and Bucky nodded.

“Let’s go.”

With his fingers still wrapped around her wrist, he pulled her toward the stairs. Just as they were about to hit the landing, a door swung open and Sam Wilson stepped out of the bathroom, stopping dead in his tracks. 

Shit.

Sterling and Bucky froze and he dropped her hand as Sam grinned.

“What’s shakin’, Bucknasty?” When his eyes landed on Sterling, she held her breath, her fear written all over her face. Sam took a step forward. “Where are you two off to?"

"Sterling was just about to show me her impressive collection of Bratz dolls? Wanna come?" Bucky offered him a toothy grin and Sterling tried not to laugh. 

"Nah I think I'll pass," Sam looked between the two of them, his eyes moving sluggish. 

He was just as buzzed as everyone else at the party he would most likely forget the interaction but Sterling was nervous that he might notice the blush of cheeks and how messy Bucky's hair was, and shit Sterling looked down to the button popped on her jeans showing off the top of her bikini bottoms. 

"You sure?" Bucky pushed, his hand linking around his back to wiggle his fingers at Sterling who had stepped further behind him to hide her appearance. 

"Hanging out with Roger's baby sister is the last thing I wanna do, I'm going to go find Tony." Sam rolled his eyes and backed down the hallway. 

"What about you?" Sterling lifted to her toes and whispered in Bucky's ear as Sam disappeared. Her hand trailed around him, playing at the waist of his pants, "Am I the last thing you wanna do?"

"I'm fully prepared to do whatever you want, Star." He huffed as her fingers tickled his skin, "now get up those stairs." He said, slapping her ass playfully as she darted up the stairs away from him with a giggle.

Once they reached the hall, Sterling turned and looked down the hall. “Which one’s yours, handsome?” She teased. She fully knew which one, but she wanted him to lead her there.

A menacing smirk played at the corners of his lips as Bucky stepped into her, placing his hands on her hips, dipping his fingertips into the sliver of skin that teased his gaze between her tank top and her shorts. 

"This way, babygirl," he rasped in her ear, as he guided her backwards and pressed her body into his door. Bucky dipped his head, capturing her lips once more with his, keeping their bodies as close as he could. 

Sterling's mind was swimming with everything and nothing at the same time. She knew there was going to be conversations and situations they would have to deal with if this went as far as she'd hoped, but in the moment, right here with him, none of that mattered. 

Blindly, her one hand found the door knob as her other curling into the collar of his white tank top, pushing the door open gently so they didn't tumble in, she dragged him back with her, giggling as she did so. 

"I gotta say, " Bucky spoke, licking his bottom lip, "I do like being thrown around by you,"

"I'll keep that in mind." Sterling breathed against his lips as she shut the door closed with her foot. The second the door clicked, Bucky shoved his hands down beneath her shorts and grabbed her ass, pulling her towards him. Sterling gasped in surprise which made Bucky chuckle before he rested his lips on hers again. Sterlings hands found their way to his hair, tugging lightly as Bucky deepened the kiss, pressing her against his hardened cock. 

"God," she moaned as the movement made every cell in her body fill with butterflies.

"Fuck," Bucky breathed, "do that again." 

"Make me," she bit his bottom lip teasingly, looking straight into his blue eyes that just turned a shade darker at her words.

"Give me chance," Bucky chuckled and kneaded her ass under his palms as worked his mouth across her lips to her jaw, nipping and licking. 

She worked at the button of his pants and rolled them down over his hips. She walked them toward the bed, shoving him back against the mattress and following him on her knees as he backed into the center. 

Sterling sat on with her knees on either side of his thigh thighs and stared down at him as she carded her fingers through her hair and smiled at him. "Do you like this bikini?" She asked him. 

"I'd like it better on the floor, little Rogers." Bucky bucked his hips toward her as she teased the string behind her neck.

Sterling licked her lips as she slowly untied the string of her top but still kept her breasts from his view. “How long have you wanted to see me like this?”

Bucky only groaned. “Fuck… too long, baby girl. C’mon… let me see…”

Raising an eyebrow, Sterling cocked her head to the side. 

“What?” Bucky asked with a low chuckle, his body shaking beneath her. “C’mon, Sterling, stop being a tease,” he whined.

Sterling stared down at him; at the tendrils of soft chestnut hair fallen from his bun, kissing the sharp lines of his jaw, and the thinnest halo of blue around his pupils as he stared back. Awe and impatience glistening in his eyes in the low light of the room. 

Feeling for Bucky, and his erection tenting in his boxers and pressing firmly against the inside of her thigh, Sterling dropped her hands, her bikini top tumbling from her body like leaves from a tree. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bucky groaned. “Look at you pretty girl.” He reached for her, hot palms on her skin as he cupped her breasts.

Sterling slowly began to move her hips, needing the pressure on her clit while Bucky massaged her breast’s. 

“You’re fucking perfect, Star. You know that?” He looked at her while putting his lips on her nipple, licking and sucking while his other hand wandered down her stomach, stopping right at the rim of her bikini bottoms. 

Sterling threw her head back with a soft moan while she continued to slowly ride his thigh.

"Just like that," Bucky praised as her hips rolled, "feels so good," he mumbled through his teeth as he nipped at her sensitive skin. 

"I need more," she pleaded as his fingers dipped between her legs.

"Beg me for it," he teased her throbbing clit with the pad of his thumb and brushed his fingers through her wetness against her entrance. "Beg me for more, Sterling. I wanna hear you beg to ride my hand." 

"Please, Buck." She steadied her breathing and turned her chin toward him, "please let me ride your hand." 

"That's my girl," he cooed and pushed two fingers as deep as his angle would allow him. The sound that erupted from her was low and guttural.

“Ohmygod,” she breathed as she rocked back and forth. “Buck-y…”

“That’s it… god, you’re soaked…”

“I’ve thought about this… so much…”

“Me too, baby girl, me too,” he replied. Bucky slowly rubbed her clit with his thumb watching as Sterling shivered. “Talk to me… what do you need?”

She couldn't get the words out at first, dizzy with the sensation of Bucky's fingers sliding deeper, his palm pressed to her clit as he switched up the position of his hand. That was so close to what she needed, more. Her lips moved with the beginnings of the word, it was right on the tip of her tongue until Bucky kissed it from her pressed together lips and trailed his own down her neck to her collar bone. 

"B-Bucky," she stammered out, voice cracking. "Mor—" she managed before it became a soft whimper instead. 

"You need more, Star? Another finger? My mouth? You gotta tell me baby." 

"I don't know, I don't know," Sterling babbled. "Just more, just need you. Want you." She wanted him everywhere, wanted to be surrounded by everything he was. 

"Hold on," Bucky murmured, nipping at her skin before they were moving, tumbling over until he hovered above her, caging her against the sheets.

He stripped her from her clothes, not wasting his time but using every second to adore every inch of her. "You're beautiful," he kissed her ribcage, drawing a sweet, sticky line with his mouth to her belly button. He sat back on his heels, pulling off what clothing remained. He looked like a god, the lights from outside bathed him in a haze and made him look ethereal. Sweat clung to his abs and made the perfect tanned skin shimmer as he lowered himself back to her. 

He used his knees to spread her legs and rested behind her thighs as his mouth found hers again in a frenzy of teeth and tongue. 

Sterling wrapped her hands around his face and tangled her fingers back through his hair, needing more contact as he rocked against her but never entered. She ached for him, and he knew it in the way his hands teased her skin and his teeth sunk into her bottom lip.

“Please,” she whimpered, feeling as Bucky’s ponytail came undone, causing his hair to drop in a veil around their faces. “Please Bucky…”

“Are you sure?” He asked. As much as he wanted this. Wanted her. He needed to know.

“Only you… always you,” she breathed.

"You're killin' me here, sweetheart," Bucky huffed out softly, "didn't think I was ever gonna get this." 

"You're not gonna get anything if you don't hurry up," Sterling quipped, bringing her legs up around Bucky's hips, ankles crossed just above his ass as she hauled him impossibly closer until every firm, hot piece of him was pressed against her. It was everything. 

"Hi," Bucky whispered, lips ghosting over her own as he held himself up on his forearms. His fingers toyed with the loose strands of her hair splayed out over the pillow as he looked down at her with a soft little smile. 

"Hi," Sterling whispered back, kissing him quickly. "Are you gonna fuck me now?" 

"Have you always been this impatient?" 

"Buuuckyyy," she whined and Bucky's laugh rocked through them both; the rich, joyous sound filling the room. He brought his lips to hers again, nipping playfully at her with a soft growl as he reached between their bodies.

"Yes, Sterling. I'm gonna fuck you now."

"It's about time," she rolled back into the pillows and raised her hips as he pushed between her thighs and sunk deep within her throbbing walls. "Shit," Sterling gasped as he stretched her beyond the tipping point. She squeezed around him and rocked her hips up to meet his rhythm as he dragged himself completely from her and slammed back in again. 

His hand cupped her face, his thumb finding her bottom lip and brushing it down to widen her mouth as she moaned through the sensation. 

"Are you being soft on purpose?" She gasped with each, tiny delicious rock of his hips. Every time he rubbed his chest against her pebbled nipples he earned a new tiny whimper from her kiss bitten lips. 

"Maybe," Bucky whispered and pulled her bottom lip between his own. 

"You can't hurt me," She tangled her hand into his hair and tugged gently, "I know you won't, so stop treating me like a china doll and fuck me like you mean it, Bucky Barnes."

Bucky buried his head against her neck and groaned. Finally being engulfed in her felt like seeing the night sky and stars for the first time.

He angled his hips and began snapping his hips, listening to Sterlings resulting moan. “God, I’ll never get tired of that sound.”

Sterling gripped Bucky's shoulders, nails digging into the muscle as he drove himself deeper with each thrust. Her whole body shifted on the bed, steady thuds of the headboard in time with her hammering heart.

"Oh, fuck," she breathed and she felt Bucky's smile on her skin, that delicious scratch of his stubble as his lips curled followed by a hot, open-mouthed kiss. He sucked and licked at her neck, sure to leave a mark that Sterling really hoped her brother wouldn't notice. 

"Gotta let everyone know you're mine now, pretty girl," Bucky murmured between wet laves of his tongue, as if he could read her mind. "Fuck, you're perfect, Sterling." 

Sterling's soul was on it's way out, halfway to floating out of her body as Bucky fucked her harder; torturously slow drags of his cock until he was buried deep, grinding down as Sterling reached down to grab his ass, anchoring his body to hers.

When she clawed at his back, leaving deep red nail marks, he shivered, his eyes rolling back and his cock throbbing inside of her. His hips snapped harder, the sounds erupting from his throat made her flutter around him. 

“Jesus, Star.”

Sterling flashed him a wicked grin as music poured in from the open window that faced the backyard. 

And then she heard it.

“Hey, Sammy! Where’s Buck?”

“Steve’s gonna kill you, you know,” she murmured against Bucky’s mouth. 

He laughed, grabbing a pillow and sliding it under her lower back, only pulling away to watch her eyes widen as he drove himself deep enough to hit that spot. 

“Oh!”

“If being with you is heaven then I don’t give a shit what he does to me.” Bucky’s kiss was surprisingly tender, his thrusts slowing down as pleasure built in Sterling’s belly. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Star.”

Her hands found his hair once more as she tilted her head to capture his mouth. “I’ve wanted you too,” she answered as they pulled away for air.

“Fuck,” Bucky moaned, driving his cock slow and deep into her cunt. “You’re mine now…”

“Yours,” she agreed.

The sounds of Steve’s voice grew louder, tangling dangerously with the chorus of grunts and breathless moans. 

“I’m not done,” Buck warned as she tensed when Steve’s voice echoed closer to their door. 

“Did we lock that,” Sterling gasped as Bucky’s fingers dug roughly into her skin and his pace became sloppy. 

“Nope.” He kissed her hard, stealing the air from her lungs as his cock rubbed every wall in sweet slick roving movements. “Now, Star.” He demanded and the walls cracked beneath her. 

She plunged into what felt like endless pleasure as the stars danced across her eyes. Bucky pressed his hand over her mouth as she let out a long, loud moan. Not finished with her just yet, Bucky slammed into her and dragged every ounce of pleasure from her exhausted body as he dove over the edge after her. 

“Buck?” Steve banged on the door. 

“Your seven minutes in heaven is up,” Sterling stumbled through a gasp as Bucky slid from her raw pussy and spilled warm between her thighs.

“Are you jerking off in there?” Steve shouted. “Get out here! Sam’s kicking my ass at beer pong!” 

Bucky placed a chaste kiss on Sterling’s lips. She barely had time to come down from her high before panic settled into her bones.

“Hide," Bucky hissed. "Bathroom."

“Bucky! I’m covered in—“

“I’ll make it up to you, princess. I promise.”

She smiled and rolled off the bed, rushing for the ensuite bathroom and closing the door until it was just barely ajar. Through the crack, Bucky tugged his pants back over his hips, giving her a good look at his gorgeous ass. He tossed on a black t-shirt and opened the door while Sterling watched from the safety of the bathroom. Her brother was hammered, leaning up against the doorframe with a can of beer clutched in his fist.

“I was taking a power nap, dude," Bucky sighed.

"A power nap?" Steve scoffed.

"Yeah, puke and rally."

“Yeah, well, I’m getting my ass handed to me!" Steve whined. "Sam's a monster at beer pong."

“I’ll be down in a second.” There was a long pause before Bucky sighed again. Sterling could barely see through the crack. “What, Rogers?”

“It smells like sex in here.”

“Okay, get out!” Bucky bellowed.

Sterling laughed as she heard the two of them wrestling and then the door shut. In seconds, Bucky was ripping open the bathroom door and pressing her against the wall, his mouth soft against hers. When he pulled away, Sterling beamed, taking in his flushed cheeks and bright cerulean eyes. She couldn’t believe this was happening. No more daydreams, no more thinking about what his lips would feel like while she watched him nurse a beer as he sat with his long, tanned legs stretched out on the porch. This was real. 

Bucky’s brows furrowed.

“You okay, pretty girl?”

She nodded, pushing aside her growing feelings.

“Yeah. I was thinking we could sneak out tonight and watch the fireworks by the lake when everyone else is too drunk. You down?”

Bucky stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

“I’d go anywhere with you.”

[terry-perry]

Can I request of Jack is clinging on Y/n like koala. Like when Bucky try to pry him off of her but he said “No! I’m staying with mommy and protect her!”

Jack's clingy behavior was out of character for him. The majority of the time, he was such a sweet boy who could entertain himself. Bucky knew what was going on with him, though.

He knew this was coming from the last mission that led you to be gone for over a month. Bucky himself grew anxious when your communication got more and more limited with each day you were gone. He worried about how long it would be before you returned home, especially when Jack soon realized you weren't there yet. As the days went by, he would wail for you. It was a heartbreaking experience for Bucky, but he did what he could to bear it for Jack's sake.

Eventually, you returned home to your boys. As a result, Jack has refused to leave your side. He never left you alone and even lost interest in the things he used to love like his favorite toys and play fighting with Bucky. Every night since you got home, he refused to stay in his room and slept in between you and Bucky.

"Mama!" Jack squealed as he reached out to grab a hold of your leg.

You couldn't help but feel a maternal tug on your heart. Then when Bucky decided to try to pry him off you and Jack replied with a "No!", you practically teared up.

You and Bucky always knew you had to do whatever it took to protect your son. Perhaps he felt he needed to do what he could to protect you and make sure you were there, safe with him.

[imtryingbuck]

Making Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC!Theo

Summary: Bucky has to marry a woman who surprises him more and more as their story goes along.

Word count: 1,801

Warnings: angst. swearing. fluff. hospital stuff. smut but not smut.

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

For three weeks Bucky barely moved. He couldn’t think straight. He point blank refused to go home to rest and shower instead choosing to stay in the hospital, sleeping in an uncomfortable chair and showering in the en-suite but making sure that he kept the door open enough for him to listen out for her.

For three weeks all Bucky saw was blood. Everytime he closed his eyes he saw it. Blood on his hands, on the floor, on his wife’s dress.

For three weeks all Bucky did was replay the scene of that night over and over again.

The car. The gunshots. The scream. The sound of Theo gasping for air. The sirens. Steve and Thor’s hands on him pulling his body away from his wife as paramedics were trying to work on her.

The way Theo stuttered, worried if Wanda was okay, as if she wasn’t the one laying on the ground with blood staining her dress in four different places.

For three weeks Bucky stayed by her side holding her hand. After the fourth day of being in the hospital Bucky had to force Wanda to go home, the woman had not stopped crying and apologising, blaming herself for what had happened to her friend and not for taking the bullets for herself. Their friends visiting every day, staying all day and even though Bucky was by her side there was guards outside the room, hallways and surrounding the whole hospital.

Winnie and Martha arrived at the hospital next day when they were informed. Bucky didn’t know why but he felt annoyed that Michael had never showed up in those three weeks despite knowing that his daughter was in a coma.

Three weeks and five days later he sat watching the tv screen but not paying attention to what was happening when a voice that he had been wanting to hear, came from the bed. “Bu-Bucky?”

“Theo? Oh baby you’re awake! Steve get the doctor”

“I-is Wanda okay?”

“What? Yeah she’s alright”

“She-she didn’t get hurt did she?”

“No, no baby”

“I did though?”

“Doll I’m so sorry, I failed you so badly. I’m so sorry.” Gripping her hand tightly bringing their entwined hands to his lips and kissing along her knuckles.

“I’m… I’m okay. C-can we go home now?”

“Baby you’ve just woken up-“. A doctor comes in interrupting him, straight away doing checks on her.

“You’re very lucky to be alive Mrs Barnes.” He tells her before leaving. He did tell her that she could leave in a few days, which had her feeling instantly better.

After a couple of hours of being awake Theo shyly asked Bucky if he could help her take a shower, her cheeks bright red as he took off her hospital gown. Pressing gentle kisses along her shoulders Bucky held her as if she was the most precious and delicate thing in the world as he washed her body and hair. By the time she was done, dried and dressed in some warm fuzzy pyjamas that Wanda had brought her, she was tired and hungry.

Steve had rang Wanda telling her that Theo was awake just as he promised, as she was finishing off with her shower all of her new friends were in her room all wanting to give her a hug. Wanda had brought Theo a giant brown teddy bear - that Bucky wasn’t happy about just because of the size of the thing but he soon found himself wanting it all for his own - in hopes she could forgive her for that night, if it wasn’t for her recommending to go somewhere else for dessert then she would have never been gunned down.

Even though she had been sleeping for nearly a month sleep over took her not long after Sam and Steve brought pizzas for them all.

Two days later Theo was allowed to go home - Bucky had to grab her hand as she was already trying to get out of the place before she had even signed her release forms.

The second Martha saw Theo she pushed Steve to the side and all but ran over to the young girl and wrapped her arms around her giving her a massive hug, telling her that she had missed her and she had been praying for her wellbeing.

Just like Wanda wanted when she come home from the hospital Theo wanted to spend the day watching films, Bucky was happy to oblige and make his wife happy so that’s what they did.

Halfway through the second film Martha came in, her whole body shaking as she informed Bucky that Michael was here and wanted to see Theo.

They all stood behind her as Bucky stood by her side holding her hand and she greeted her father. There was no hug. There was no emotion on his face. It was just a cold and uncomfortable moment between father and daughter.

“I see you’re doing better.” He said it as if she had just gotten a broken arm and not as if she had been shot multiple times.

Squeezing Bucky’s hand a little bit tighter she answered her father. “I-I am.”

“Right. James you and I need to have a word.”

“Is it about the shooters?” Michael shook his head. “Then we have nothing to talk about. Not once did you visit your daughter, not once did you even ring me to see how she was so no you have no right to come to our home and tell me we need to talk.”

“You disrespected my daughter-“

“I did and I also did it by sitting right next to your other daughter as we were celebrating her birthday.”

Michael’s face went rigid as anger filled his veins at being interrupted and disrespected by someone he saw as a boy. He looked at Theo and sighed, nodding his head once he turned on his heels and walked out of the house.

“Baby, are you okay?” Bucky’s attention shifted towards her straight away.

“I’m okay. Can we carry on watching the film?”

“Of course we can doll.”

Despite the interruption of her father Theo didn’t seem to have been affected by his presence, Bucky couldn’t have been prouder. They go back into the cinema room where Bucky instantly pulls Theo onto his lap and pulling the blanket over them again.

When everyone began to leave to head to bed, Bucky held Theo’s hand leading her towards their bedroom, the second the door closed behind her Bucky kissed her.

“I promise I will find who did this to you.” He whispered inches away from her lips.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does! They aren’t getting away with hurting you.”

She didn’t care. Truly she didn’t just as long as her friends were okay and that Bucky wasn’t hurt. She still wasn’t use to someone caring about her the way they had shown her and she honestly didn’t think she would ever get use to it.

Bucky went to respond as she shook her head in a silent way in telling him that it really didn’t matter but she silenced him by pressing her lips to his.

“I-I’ll be right back, okay?” Bucky nods and she rushes off into the bathroom.

She knew exactly what she wanted for the first time in her life. She knew she wanted to do something that before had caused her so much pain. But she was nervous. Scared off the possibility of rejection.

Before she could even register what she was doing she was removing her clothes and stepping into the bedroom. Bucky’s jaw dropped wide open when he looked up from where he was putting his phone on charge.

Neither one said anything other than her nodding her head, hoping that he understood what she was trying to tell him.

To say she was nervous was an understatement yet she felt comfortable and confident, it helped that Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off her. The look of pure love and pride both outshining the lust swirling around in his ocean blue eyes, his fingers kept twitching in attempt to reach out for her.

When their eyes met Bucky gave her the most gentle, genuine smile she had ever seen. “Come here beautiful” he whispered, his right hand cupping her face holding her delicately as if she was a precious flower, his left hand resting on her hip. “You’re so beautiful”.

“B-Bucky… I l-love you”

“You- I love you too pretty girl” both smiling at each other before Bucky places his lips against hers, both sighing contently at the familiarity.

The kiss shared between the two lovers grew more heated, Bucky’s stomach flutters with pride as she starts to unconsciously take lead and he’s more than happy and willing to blindly follow.

Moving them both towards the bed he moves slowly in a sign that she could always back out of this, laying her on their bed lips breaking contact he leans on his left arm basking in the way she looks underneath him.

Theo’s mind raced with confusion when Bucky kept asking for permission or when he told her that they didn’t have to continue if she didn’t want to, she had grown accustomed to being told that she had no choice in that matter and overtime became numb to how badly it hurt, however she wanted this, for the first time in her life she wanted to be touched, to be loved so every time the man above her asked she nodded and smiled.

Bucky’s whole body swelled with determination to keep making her release those beautiful sounds of pleasure as he took her apart with his tongue and fingers. He chuckled lightly at the startled gasp that she let out at the sensation she had never felt before, lifting his head with a promise on the tip of his tongue that it was okay that died quickly when her hand rested itself on the back of his head pushing him closer to his new favourite meal.

He was addicted to her.

The act itself had tears gathering in her eyes, reassuring him to continue and that she was okay when he realised and stopped his actions, she was overwhelmed with the look of love and affection in his ocean eyes as his hips moved back and forth. His right hand linked with hers, his left resting itself on the side of her neck - thumb rubbing slowly from side to side as his tongue slowly danced with hers.

The only sounds coming from the room was soft moans and panting, and Bucky repeatedly telling her how much he loves her.

It was more than just sex. It was making love. An act neither one had ever experienced before.

<Previous   Next>

Tags: @sapphirebarnes @bellabarnes1378 @unaxv @skulliecadaver-blog @mrsnikstan @sebastians-love @pattiemac1 @julvrs @undf-stuff @violetwinterwidow01 @cjand10

[marvelouslizzie]

No One Else Matters

Summary: Things between you and Bucky Barnes have been going great until an Avengers dinner party reminds you of that one night you spent with Steve Rogers. Now you are afraid that the meaningless past hook-up might jeopardize your future with Bucky.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, secret relationship, alcohol consumption but no one is drunk, semi-public sex, unprotected p in v (on birth control and clean), begging, pet names, dirty talk, mentions of past hook up with Steve Rogers, eavesdropping, no mention of y/n

A/N: Another random idea that turned into a one-shot thanks to my amazing friends. Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. Also, some lines belong to her because she helped shape the story and I appreciate it a lot!

This story isn't any form of Steve Rogers hate. I just wanted to write a story like this and it wouldn't work with anyone else besides Steve. If you don't want to read a story where Steve is a past hook-up that didn't work out well, please stay away from the story.

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. 

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me. I would love to answer questions or start a conversation as long as it doesn't include any kind of hate.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

Coming to this Avengers dinner might have been a big mistake. Essentially you were looking forward to this night because it had been a while since you saw your co-workers. Some are more like friends than co-workers, but working for SHIELD keeps everyone busy. Small events like this help people to get together, catch up and maybe plan other stuff for the future, but tonight feels somewhat different.

You were enjoying yourself until you saw Bucky and Steve casually chatting on the other side of the room. That doesn’t happen very often and it reminds you of things you'd rather not think about. Things that happened years ago. Like that one time, you hooked up with Steve. It was buried so deep into your memory, you simply forgot about it and it’s not like you see Steve that often. Occasionally, his team asks for your help and you try to do your best. And you have been nothing but friendly to each other since that night. You remember him taking it pretty well when you said you’d rather stay friends with him. He probably wasn’t looking for a relationship anyways.

It was before everyone found out HYDRA was nesting inside SHIELD for years. He was simply the golden boy. The first Avenger who unexpectedly returned. A savior. Everyone was in awe of him and tried to be their best version. It felt like a fairytale came true.

The problem is whenever people make an idol of someone expectations go over the roof. And when you meet that person, see what they are like up close, you just notice he’s just like anyone else. Even though they didn’t do anything wrong or bad, it still feels somehow disappointing.

He was different than what you expected him to be. You noticed that pretty quickly and decided to keep things professional. It worked out amazingly until… now. You look around, trying to calm yourself down, keeping that memory to yourself because this is definitely not the time to bring it up.

**

When the dinner finally starts, it turns out to be a good distraction. You chat with whoever is around you about recent missions, the latest gossip, and things SHIELD is planning to do in the near future. But your eyes keep wandering towards Bucky, who is seated across the table. It’s a huge relief to see Steve and him aren’t seated together or even close to each other. Everyone knows they used to be good friends, but that’s not the case anymore. Since Bucky is back to himself and started to work for SHIELD, things went downhill for their friendship. They slowly drifted apart.

You try hard not to glance back at him again, but he’s looking at you. That makes things even harder. You notice how his lips form a small smile whenever your eyes meet and how he tries to play it off as something he did because of his conversation. But you know his smile is caused by you and even though you don’t want to accept that, it melts your heart a little more.

After the dessert is served, people start to focus on their drinks more. Different groups are forming, and when you want to take check on Bucky, he quickly tilts his head to the right, signaling you to leave the room and meet him. You look around to see if anyone noticed, but no one’s focus is on you two. 

You do nothing but watch him discreetly walk away first, without waiting for an answer. He knows you will follow. And that’s exactly what you do: you place your empty glass on the counter and leave the room as subtly as he did. What you don’t notice is that someone actually has been watching you very closely.

You have no idea where Bucky went exactly, so you start to wander around, trying to guess where he’d choose to hide until he grabs you with his arm, pulling you inside an empty room before quickly locking the door.

“Bucky!” A half-yelp leaves your lips, but it’s muffled by his hand.

“It’s me,” he whispers against your ear before he starts to kiss your neck sloppily. “Relax.”

He doesn’t waste any time. His hands are everywhere on your body: grabbing your breasts over the clothes, squeezing your ass.

“I missed you.” His breathy whisper gives you goosebumps. 

“Oh, I missed you, too.” You grab his face with both of your hands and finally kiss him properly. He happily sighs and lets you take control. His lips are soft, tasting like bourbon, which surprises you because he is usually a beer kind of guy. Maybe he decided to try something different tonight since he isn’t the one paying. 

That reminds you of the party and everyone inside. Including Steve Rogers. Bucky’s ex-best friend. And that make the anxious feeling in your gut returns. You need to tell him about what happened between you and Steve. Even if you’re afraid that it would change everything between you two. But you aren’t ready to lose him. Not when you’ve just started to realize how strong your feelings are for him.

He doesn’t fail to notice the shift in your mood. You aren’t as present in the kiss as if you have something on your mind. He stops kissing you unexpectedly, making you give him a confused look.

“Are you okay?” He sounds genuinely concerned.

You take a deep breath. Maybe it’s just better to tell him now and get it over with. What’s the point of delaying the inevitable?

“I gotta tell you something.”

You see how his concern grows even more. His expression is serious and full of worry.

“Do you want to break this off? Is that what it is?” 

God, the way he asked that question just hurts something inside you. He sounded so broken, so afraid.

“No, no! Of course not.” You quickly clear the air, leaving no space for any kind of misunderstanding. “But you might wanna break things off with me after I tell you… this.” 

You can see how your words confuse him. He squints, trying to understand what you are talking about and coming up with a reasonable explanation. You know whatever he’ll think about won’t be even close to the reality, but you didn’t expect his response either.

“Are you pregnant? Is that why you are nervous?” His hand caresses your cheek as he asks you. “You know I wouldn’t leave you for something like that, right? We can do whatever you want. It’s totally up to you.” 

No, you aren’t pregnant. That’s not even a possibility. You’ve been on birth control even before you two started to have sex. Still, hearing his soft-spoken words makes you melt inside. 

“No, baby, I’m not pregnant.” 

You both take a breath after eliminating another possibility. He looks at you fora few seconds, trying to decide if he should say it or not.

“Is it about you dating Steve?”

Words can’t describe how surprised you are. Questions flood your mind instantly. How much does he know? When did he find out? Who told him? And dating? No, you definitely did not date Steve Rogers. God, you have so many questions to ask. You don’t know where to start. 

“You know about that.” It comes out more like a question than a statement. The shock is so clear in your voice. 

“Of course, I know.” 

“How? When?” The questions come out one after another and make him smile a little. You stop yourself from asking even more and decide to make one thing clear. “And I did not date him. It was a one-time thing.”

“Oh.” He sounds surprised. Maybe he thought it was more serious, but if so why didn’t he bring it up before?

“When did you find out?” You have to know. 

“Not so long ago.”

“Who told you?” 

“Sam. He thought there was some kind of tension between you two, but I couldn’t see it. So he explained.” He doesn’t sound like it bothers him much, which is relieving.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I could ask you the same.”

He’s right. He can ask the same question. Your answer is simple, though.

“I actually forgot it happened.” Is he really smiling? “It wasn’t that memorable to me.” 

“That bad, huh?” 

You can’t help but laugh. God, you love him so much. You were worried sick about how he would react and here he is joking about it.

“Do you want an actual answer?” You finally ask. 

“Yeah, sure.” He doesn’t seem to mind.

“It was okay.” 

Now it’s his turn to laugh. “So it was bad.” 

“Like I said, not memorable.” You choose to repeat. You don’t wanna disrespect him that much, but you don’t even remember much about it. That was one of the reasons you wanted to stay friends anyway.

“Doll, it’s fine.” He finally decides to answer you seriously.

“So you don’t mind?” 

“It was way before us. It’s not my place to judge you for it.” 

That’s a huge relief. You were so worried he would just choose some kind of bro code over you but no. He chose you. You breathe out with a smile on your face.

“And if someone is gonna get judged for their past, it’s not gonna be you.”

You instantly frown because you understood immediately what he meant by it.

“That’s not the same thing. I chose to hook up with him. You didn’t choose to get brainwashed.”

“Yeah, of course, but I am the one who killed those people.”

“Bucky, no.” You touch his chest, trying to comfort him without realizing it. “Don’t go there. Please. That’s not a fair comparison.” You want him to be free of this guilt. He’s trying to redeem himself so hard, it has to end somewhere.

“Fine.” He finally accepts it. “I don’t care about your past. I only care about your present and future. Is that better?” 

“Yes, it is better.” You wrap your arms around his neck and close the distance. “You are always so forgiving, yet you are so harsh to yourself.”

“As long as you are mine, I don’t care about anything.” 

That does it. An unexpected jolt of arousal overwhelms you. Suddenly, you don’t feel shy anymore. 

“Can you…” You try to collect your words. “Can you fuck me like you did the last time?” Asking that out loud feels a little weird. Maybe you should’ve drunk a bit more.

You watch as his eyes widen in response. Oh, he wants that as much as you do. No need to feel shy.

“Which position exactly?” He sounds so cheeky, but you can see his question is genuine. He needs additional info because it wasn’t a one-and-done.

“Against the wall.” You bit your lip, remembering how good it felt. So rough, yet so full of pleasure. You can’t help but shiver when you remember that orgasm.

“Fuck.” He surpasses a moan. “We have to be quiet, doll. Can you do that for me?” His voice is really low.

You eagerly nod in response. You aren’t sure if you can actually do it, but you will try your best if he’s going to do what you asked for. 

“God, I love you so much.” You can’t hold yourself back anymore. Hearing those words from him sparks something unstoppable inside you. Grabbing him by the face, you crash your lips against him. 

“I love you, Bucky.” You keep kissing him. “So much.” Your hands move south, unbuckling him as quickly as possible. 

Your movements are rushed but not sloppy. Like you did this a million times before. It feels familiar, but it doesn’t change how much you need him. Urgently. And he doesn’t seem to mind that your act as if you are in a hurry. When you finally unbutton his pants, they pool around his ankles, and that’s when he decides to lift you up. His hands stay under your ass while he presses you against the wall, your dress already curled up around your waist. 

“Are you ready for me, doll?” He asks with that voice he uses when he’s really aroused. It turns you on even more and you didn’t know that was possible.

“Yes.” You want him inside you so much. You need his lips on you. “Please, Bucky, I need you.”

“You do?” Oh, youknow this tone too well. He loves to tease you and make you talk more about what you want, and it’s always so rewarding. So you don’t hold back.

“Please, fuck me, I need your cock so badly.” Even though it’s dimly lit inside the room, you see the shift in his eyes. Your words are feeding some kind of primal need inside him. “I need you, baby, please. I’m so wet.”

“Let’s see if that’s true.” He holds you with one hand and aligns himself to your entrance with the other. You shouldn’t be surprised by how strong he is, but every time he manages to astonish you. He doesn’t even struggle to carry or hold you. When he finally thrusts inside you, a loud moan escapes your lips. The stretch is so fucking delicious. “Shh.” 

“Sorry, sorry.” You quickly try to apologize. “It just feels ssso good.” A low moan follows your words.

“You know I love to hear you, doll.” He starts moving. “I love how you always beg for more.” His free hand goes to your head, pushing a strand of hair back so he can see your face better. “But this time we need to keep it quiet. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“I’ll be good, I promise.”

That makes him smile. You wrap your hands around his neck again, wanting to be close to him. That’s when you both hear a sound really close to you. So close that you feel like it came right at the door. You both still for a second, listening to find out if someone is outside, but there’s no more sound. So that noise is long forgotten in a minute.

You don’t even care if someone is outside. You don’t care if someone hears you fucking. Bucky Barnes loves you. No one else matters. Your lips clash against his. It’s such a sloppy kiss, but you love every second of it. His hand moves to your neck, holding you in place as he starts to pound on you.

“Is this how you wanted it?” He keeps asking, wanting you to speak, but you can't. “Is it that good you went speechless?”

You nod eagerly.

“Come on, darling. Use your words.” He’s moving relentlessly, taking your breath away with each stroke.

“Yes.” You finally manage to say. “Oh god, yes.”

“Yes to what?” He taunts you. “Is that what you wanted or is it that good?”

“Both!” You say louder than you intended, then you remember you promised to be good and you lower your voice. “Yes to both!”

“Good girl.” His flesh hand travels to your neckline. He quickly pushes the straps of your dress down more, finally revealing your breasts. You aren’t wearing a bra, thanks to the padded dress. “God, look at you.” He marvels at you. “Such a pretty little doll. All mine.” 

His mouth latches on your right breast, sucking and biting it while he keeps moving. He knows how to use his mouth well everywhere. It makes everything so much better. You can feel that pleasure starts to bottle up, your abdomen tensing.

Oh, he truly knows how to get you there. He knows how much you love it when you two climax together. It feels heavenly… like you are in your own little world and there’s no one but him there. Nothing else matters. As your legs start to shake with overwhelming pleasure, you imagine going back inside, talking to others while his come is dripping out of you. No one would know what you two were up to. Not a single soul. It’s your little secret. The thought makes you moan a little bit louder. Your hands grip hard on his shoulders. 

Bucky moans right next to your ear. “God, you feel so good.” His hands are gripping hard on your ass. “I wish I can stay inside you forever. I don’t wanna move. I don’t wanna go anywhere else. I just wanna keep fucking you, until you beg me to stop.” Does he know what his words do to you? Does he notice how it amplifies your orgasm? Or does he just say whatever he wants to say? “I’m gonna come.” He warns you. “I’m gonna come, baby. I’m gonna come.” 

You ride your orgasms together, as he empties himself inside you. His head falls on your shoulder while he keeps holding you. His lips press against the crook of your neck. While you keep taking deep breaths, you can feel his heart racing. 

“Are you okay?” He asks while moving away enough to take himself out of you.

“Okay?” You question as he gently puts you on your feet. “I feel amazing.” 

You lift yourself on your tiptoes and give him a full wet kiss. 

“Now I believe you.” He gives you a little smile that only makes you want to kiss him again.

“I’ll be louder when we go home so you won’t have an ounce of doubt.”

“Yours or mine?” His question comes instantly.

“I don’t care.” You really don’t. All you want is him. Where, when, and how are just details.

He helps you shape your hair back to normal while you pull the stripes up. Your underwear is a mess and you are dripping out already. Bucky takes a napkin out of his pocket and kneels in front of you. He gently pushes the serviette between your folds, cleaning you up enough so you can go back inside. 

“Thank you.” You love it when he takes care of you like this. “But you know that won’t be enough. I will keep dripping all night.” 

“I’m counting on that.” You can see on his face how much that thought excites him. “Keep dripping onto your underwear while talking to others. Remember what we did here. Imagine what we will do later.” He stands up while you fix your dress and you realize that you can’t wait to leave this party already.

“You have such a dirty mouth. I love it.” You grab his face with one hand and just force him to kiss you. Not that you can actually force him to do anything, but he lets you anyway. “Come on. Let’s go back.”

**

It’s been a while since you returned to the party. Everything seems normal. No one even realized you were absent. No one is suspecting anything. That encourages you to look around for Bucky. When your eyes meet, he gives you a teasing smile while casually chatting with Sam.

The whole night you didn’t say a word to him. Not around other people. But you don't see any reason to keep avoiding him. Everyone knows you two are friendly. So you decide to walk over and chat a little.

“Oh, look who remembered us!” Sam jokes as soon as he notices you.

“Hello to you too, Sam.” You don’t mind his teasing. “Good to see you missed me.”

“Hey.” Bucky raises his beer bottle to casually greet you. He probably got tired of the bourbon.

“How are you, fellas?”

“Oh you know, missions and drinks. Same stuff,” Bucky answers your question. 

“Nothing new?” You tease him, just to see how he would react.

“Nope. Just little old me doing the same things.”

“Really, I keep telling him to go on a date or something but no. He prefers this misery instead.”

You try to surpass a smile forming on your lips, well aware of the exact reason why he’s declining the offer.

While you’re staring at each other, Sam notices Steve on the other side of the room and raises his hand. 

“Hey, Rogers!”

That’s definitely the last thing you need tonight, but there’s no way you can stop Sam. Steve joins your group in a couple of seconds, but for some reason, he looks… kinda miserable.

“You alright, man?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He absently answers. “I’m fine. Feeling a bit under the weather.”

“Maybe that super serum is finally wearing off.” Sam jokes and it manages to make Steve smile for a second.

“How are you all?” Steve asks while looking at the whole group, but his eyes stay on you for a bit longer than the rest.

“Oh, we are fine. We were talking about the lack of Mr. Barnes’s dating life.”

God, he isn’t going to let that go, is he? 

“Speaking of dating…” Sam continues while taking his phone off. “I met this guy the other day and he’s perfect for you!” Is he talking to you? He shows you a photo of this blonde guy who honestly looks alright, but he’s practically a stranger. “He’s a good guy and he fits your type. I can give your his number if you want.”

“What the fuck, Sam?” Your response makes the rest laugh. “You are playing matchmaker now?”

“I mean… someone gotta do it and I was hoping you would find someone to return the favor for me.”

You look at Bucky just to see he’s kind of enjoying this while Steve looks thoughtful for some reason.

“That’s definitely not my type.”

“Really?” Sam side-eyes Steve for a second to see his reaction, but it’s like he already knew that. 

“And I am already seeing someone, so…”

“Wait a second!” Sam sounds surprised. “You are seeing someone? Since when?”

“Why are you so surprised? You thought I would inform you about my love life or something?” Bucky is laughing quietly on the side, and Sam looks a little uncomfortable.

“I don’t know. I thought you were single. You are already off the market, huh?”

Bucky subtly nods to his last comment but doesn’t say anything.

“Yeah, it seems so.” You put your drink on the nearest surface and stretch your neck a little. 

“Tired?” Bucky asks this time.

“Yes. I’m thinking about leaving. Maybe I should call an Uber or something.” You make a move to take your phone out.

“Actually… I was considering the same thing. I can drop you home, you can save up the money.”

“Really?” You didn’t expect him to offer to leave with you. Usually, one of you leaves first and the other follows, but maybe after tonight's events, he decided that there’s no reason to hide anymore. “Sure, that'd be great.”

You see Sam rolling his eyes. “There go hours of effort.”

“You wanted to leave before?” It’s obvious you are talking to Bucky.

“No, not really, but he assumes that and tries to talk me into staying every time.” You start to laugh. It’s not hard to imagine why Sam thinks he’d rather be somewhere else.

“Sorry, Sam, but we are old. Apparently we need more sleep.” You are mocking yourself and Bucky at the same time, wondering how he’ll react.

“He is old, but you… not so much.”

“My soul is old and that’s enough.” You raise both of your hands and wave a goodbye. “Anyways, time to go. Good to see both of you.” Your thumbs and index fingers move around like two guns pointed at Sam and Steve.

“Good night,” Bucky simply adds.

While you two quietly walk away, Sam is already suspecting something is up.

“Did I drink too much or is there something going on between them?” Sam asks when you are far enough not to hear it.

“They are together.” Steve tries to sound as casual as possible.

“Wait! Really?” He thought something was just blooming between you two, not a full on relationship. “How do you know?”

“I heard them.” Steve notices how it sounds and quickly adds: “Talking.”

“And you are okay with that?”

“Yeah, sure.” That doesn’t sound convincing at all. “It’s not my place to say anything. It was never that serious.” He isn’t sure if he’s trying to convince Sam or himself. “I mean… I think she’d want to get serious, but she talked about staying friends and I jumped on the opportunity and agreed because I didn’t want a relationship.”

Sam nods. “Well, good for them I guess. They seem like a good match.”

“They really do.”

[caplanbuckybarnes]

There's a small drabble for y'all! Thanks to @mistressofallthingsgeeky for helping me lol

EVERYTHING PERM: @nekoannie-chan @kjs-s @notyourtypicalrose @mistressofallthingsgeeky

MARVEL PERM: @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @late-to-the-party-81 @capsthot @endlesstwanted @kenzieam

BUCKY BARNES: @nicoline1998enilocin @amelia-song-pond @hallecarey1 @libbymouse @fandom-princess-forevermore @animal-feather @your-wonderful-stargazer @kenzieam

[jackiequick]

What If Bucky Barnes saved a life that day? | MARVEL Fanfic

Pairing: Jason Grey Underwood & James ‘Bucky’ Barnes

Setting: Flashback to December 16, 1991

Summary: It was a old winter night when a crash happened that would swirl the weekend for a world wind, as both eyes met in the chaos of it all. Becoming a interesting sight of secretive events. An old memory coming back to life?

Characters mentioned: Howard Stark, Maira Stark, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Elizabeth Stark, Daniel Sousa and Peggy Carter

Marvel Au fanfic

Warning: Angsty fic with some fluff

———

Gravel crunches under the tires of the Rolls Royce as it trundles up the country road. The Winter Soldier peers through the scope and adjusts his grip, his finger ghosting over the trigger. He's been in position for hours, has watched his targets for over two weeks before this. He knows their routine.

Inside the car sat Howard driving as Maria chatted on the phone with Peggy and Jason trying to figure out a way to nap quietly. Tony was at home he refused to go and stay with his godmother Peggy Carter instead.

This is the first day of a long weekend in the Stark Family country estate. They were meant to meet some people there in the upcoming weeks.

But no one will think to look for them until at least Monday.

The Soldier takes careful aim. If he misses, he will have to eliminate his targets individually. This is much cleaner.

He fires.

With the silencer, the shot is noiseless, but the blown tire is not.

The expensive Rolls Royce had been on the final turn before a wide country driveway. It skids onto the soft shoulder, and flips on its side to slide down a steep ravine. Having the family gasping for air, shielding themselves for comfort and deeply coughing as the car takes a spinal shock.

Screaming and yelling were silence soon enough. Groans can be heard from Jason squeezing his eyes shut as a trickle of blood ran down his forehead and a few shards of glass scarred around him, his pain increased. He felt dizzy, nasty feeling twirling in his stomach and his airways feeling like they shut down for a moment.

Snapping in and out of consciousness at whimpering and soft yelling he recognized. However you could’ve sworn he was dead by his chest not puffing.

Carefully, the Soldier packs away his rifle and makes his way down the slope, dragging piles of dry brush behind him. No one will see the wreckage from the roadway.

The Soldier sees that the woman has been ejected from her seat. Maria Stark. She is dead. He mentally crosses her off his list.

Ripping away the car door from its hinges, he peers inside. Howard Stark trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth waking up in soft mumbling, alerting the others in the car.

Howard Stark opens his eyes, glances over an somewhat conscious Jason as he looks at the Soldier. There is no anger or fear in his gaze -- but something else. Something that gives the Soldier pause. This is not an expression he has seen from his targets before.

Jason’s eyes flickering open falling onto the Howard, before looking at The Solider in pain, trying to search for his gun under his seat.

He locked eyes with the Solider seeing right into his soul. His steel blue eyes deep in an unknown word he can’t trace. The pain behind the lifeless face he gave, pausing at their actions. He doesn’t pull his gun on him, one bit. It was unspoken line between both parties.

"Bucky," Howard muttered. His hands fumbling weakly at his seatbelt, but his gaze is unfocused and vague. Dying, Jason knows it. But he hears his friend say, "Don’t hurt my son if he’s next…”

The word rattles around in the Soldier's head for a few moments without purchase. Jason waits for him to make a move, trying to figure out what happened that his last breath hasn’t come. But nothing.

Howard however takes a battling breath, then his shoulders lower. He dies with his eyes half open.

His attention snaps back at his words, knowing he meant every word as Jason weakly kicked open the door. The Solider finished the job for him tugging him out of the car, scooping up the blondes hand in his. Both men locked eyes once again, confused about the quick actions.

He could snap his neck, pull a gun on him or something.

In the Soldier's pocket is a lighter -- the authorities will assume the fire sparked from the car crash and caught dry brush. The flames will cleanse all evidence he was here.

Bucky... don’t hurt my son if he’s next..

Finish the assignment, the Soldier thinks. However a part of himself couldn’t murder the blonde. He didn’t have it in him to do it. None of them would know. He wondered why the man didn’t say a word to him yet, just staring at him a glint of trouble in his eyes as he felt his hand.

Jason just he recognizes those blue eyes, allowing the man to grab his bicep now as the other was occupied by a handheld gun trying to comprehend why he wasn’t dead yet. Then it hit him, his target included him in the flesh with the dog tags around his neck or at least his wristwatch, for extra evidence of his job being completed.

His eyes wet as all he could do was follow the instructions the Solider—Bucky—gave him. Then he turns and walks into the forest with him. The Solider’s work is not complete. He will be expected to end him.

It's only then he realizes he doesn't want to. His memories felt like they were split in two when they reached a hotel. Jason told him before entering that they will need to straighten up they’re hair and clothes, coming up with a cover story to tell the recipients. Bucky refused to comment on the request but eventually gave in.

An odd couple who needed to stay the night and thankfully she brought it.

Once entering the hotel room, Bucky finally let go of his bicep not realizing he might’ve left a bruised on the blonde. The room was somewhat cozy with beds, the lights were deemed reasonable, tiny kitchen, table with chairs and a bathroom. His eyes flicker titled his heads getting a better look at the man who sat down in one of the chairs.

It rattled Bucky’s brain at the moment seeing him again in full lighting, having not seen him in the longest time. He hasn’t aged a day! It pained him as he watched his movements, trying to remember the night they met. It came in patches across the entire trip here. The memories.

That night and the morning afterwards. It stunning. His smile and glimpse of joy in his eyes.

Everyone dressed in their finest whites and browns laughing teasing one another across the room. But Bucky’s eyes stayed that weekend on the blonde man chuckling with his buddies sharing a beer. With Howard Stark.

His pals were having fun. So, all he wanted was some alone time with the man, ready to enjoy himself and he did.

His voice brought him back to the present day.

“You can take a seat, you know? Get comfortable. I’m not your handler or anything. You took me as your hostage tonight. And for what, Bucky?” He said, his tone was calming but slightly bruised feelings. Tired and hurt.

“Okay..” Bucky replies softly taking a seat, unzipping his suit a bit to allow himself to breathe, “…my mission seems to not be complete. I was expecting to end everyone in that car.”

“So why didn’t you? For the last half hour I have been trying to comprehend why you did pull the gun on me? We were in the forest, you could’ve done it..”

“Because I couldn’t. The look in both of your eyes…I didn’t’ want to. Why didn’t you defend yourself, hmm? The whole time you were silent.”

“I couldn’t defend myself assuming your actions, so I waited for you to make your decision. Now your keeping me safe, why?”

“I don’t know..”

“Yes you do. You don’t remember right? But when my—Howard said your name…you paused. I saw a look in your eyes, you regret it. You heard what he said about his son and you paused. Then looked at me.”

They locked eyes again. Jason hitched a breath, his eyes scanning every feature his face. The look of confused as if he wanted to admit something but couldn’t due to his orders. But he didn’t need to know why he murdered, the only other man to look at with such kindness and the women who took him into her heart with so much love.

The dead know everything. He would just have to accept that one day, but that didn’t mean he decided to not get a swing at Bucky for his actions. He just needed some satisfaction, some answer. By the second swing to the face, his body crumbled in pain from accident. The brunette guided him back to his seat holding his wrist.

He glared feeling weak as he looked up at Bucky again. Some urgency in his face to tell him. Both men knew it. It was silent. It was only then Bucky’s mouth opened and shut, hesitate to say it even though both men knew it all too well. He remembers all of it.

~~~~~

Hours came and went. Jason went on to take a shower after Bucky did. It was a kind offer. It was his only time to actually think.

He was flabbergasted at the sight standing underneath the water that fit his face. In that room held the face of the man he didn’t expect to see. He remember it all too well.

That weekend after that mission, he just met Howard thinking he would never see that man ever again in his life. But he was very wrong! Jason had tears in his eyes missing him so badly, the smell of his cologne still in his nose.

He remembered Howard and him being brought up to a bar. The 107th and 106th gang was there. He was talking with his buddies, along with Howard who was more interested in the bartender. She was hot.

But his eyes fell onto the one of prettiest brunette around. Sergeant Barnes.

Hell he would’ve dated him.

Honestly Jason always had a thing for brunettes since he had Howard and Violet but he loved Angie more than his life itself. As well as his darling Maria, he loved her so much.

Damn the respect people, including himself had for that man.

He remembered both men chatting afterwards enjoying each other’s company. Laughing and teasing one another every once in a while. He looked at him with such kindness and respect. It felt good.

Then he remembered the words that kickstarted the rest of the night and morning after.

Hey, Barnes stole a jeep! Yelled Howard so loudly half of bar heard it.

Next thing he remembered was all three of them riding across the streets, dropping the genius off once he saw the bartender from earlier clocked out, leading him and Barnes alone. The two rode off into the night, passing through street lights and stores glancing over at each other every so often. It felt like a breath of fresh air, laughing the whole time.

They talked about life after the way, family they were waiting for them, and hopefully new opportunities to take upon once it all over. Seeing each other again and heading to vacation for a while. He asked Bucky if he had a lady waiting for him at home and his response was a simple no. Jason remembered his eyes perk up hearing that teasing him on any lady would love to have him.

He remembered the jeep coming to a stop near a park bench on a high hill. Nobody around, just pure sliver dollar silence as the cloudy skies cleared up to reveal the moon and stars. The smell of the flowers and air as he followed the brunette up the hill, sliding over to seat next to him at the benchmark and nice autumn breeze that blew past them.

The way Bucky teased him asking if he had a chance with a girl. His reply was a honest, ‘No, i don’t know if i will settle anytime soon.’

‘Why not?’ Was his response with a smile.

‘I feel like I forgot what normal is meant to be.’

‘I get that. I feel like I didn’t really know how to live before.’

‘Hmm. Maybe, we shouldn’t settle for normal.’

The next morning. It was a sight to see. The sun was coming up, the orange light turned the field into liquid gold shining down on both men. Bucky’s head rested on his shoulder as his hand placed on his shoulder snoring softy. His own head nuzzled against the brunette humming in his sleep, waking up as the sun hit his eyes.

Jason smiled at the memories.

Since it was weekend full with sightseeing, training with his pal and meeting new ones. Sneaking off with Bucky and Howard to the stores then heading off to the restaurants for a quick bite. It was a delightful surprise how comfortable he felt about Barnes, the sweet warm in his eyes and the charming smile that he portrayed everywhere they went.

———

But now in that very room sat the brunette with longer hair, deep blue eyes and a body language that said an unknown things. He barley cracked smiled however he remembered it all. The memories that were made and he actions he took.

To anyone who knew Bucky Barnes, would say he was a bit of a distant distraction from the normal life. He dated plenty of men and women in his time. Always had a thing for people with a respectable background. Something he would come to apparently appreciate in the future.

His mind flew back to that weekend with Underwood. The laughter they shared, the drinks, the running from the bar onto the jeep that night and the hopes to see one another again.

Bucky even gave the man his number and a cheeky wink before he took off to return fight the war.

But he didn’t get the chance to call him. Or even received a phone call since he fell off that train…

The last thing he remembered before waking up to that laboratory full of scientists was dreaming about that weekend. That smile and laughter that escaped Jason’s lips. The grin he gave everyone and the wink he returned to the night.

God! If he wasn’t in this situation, he would run over to the blonde and tell him everything he knew.

But he couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He spared his heart by letting him live.

Bucky Barnes cared way too much to murder the man who gave him, a lifetime of memories.

He felt stupid.

But he shouldn’t. He deserved to smile. To see the man he cared for again.

“Bucky..?” Asked the blonde, coming out of the shower with wet hair and a white t-shirt giving him, a gentle smile.

“Hmm.” He responded, sucking a breath flickering his eyesight towards him.

“What’s going on that pretty little head of yours? You can tell me..”

“I um..you won’t like what you hear…i can’t..sorry.”

“I can tell enough. Your working for the other side against your will..you’ve been manipulated by them. I don’t know why you killed my..doesn’t matter.”

“…did you love ‘em?”

“Yeah..with all my heart..”

“I’m sorry..I’m so sorry.”

Bucky stood up, he wanted to run. He tried to escape the room, his hand was on doorknob as his voice hitched. He was tired. Annoyed. Sad. Hurt. He looked over his shoulder to look back at the blonde.

The kindness in his eyes. He paused, letting go on the handle as he turned around to face the man. His head dropped in sorrow, facing the floor as he felt light fingertips crawl up his chin, lifting his head to meet the green eyes. Bucky wouldn’t admit it but he missed the starving touch of someone’s warmth against his cold face.

That comforting gaze that would soften his cheeks.

His blue eyes met the green eyes once again. He wanted to let his shoulders fall but he feared it would show weakness. He wanted to let out a sob, but he feared he would let his guard down. But he wasn’t with anyone who would hurt him.

He hoped that Jason wouldn’t try to hurt him, yeah sure he killed his friend however, he could see something else in his face. Sorrow and compassion. Comfort. He was in a vulnerable position.

They both were.

Jason didn’t think he would admit the words that slipped his lips but they did.

“I’m not gonna hurt..i can’t blame you for what you did. It wasn’t your fault. You hear me Bucky? It wasn’t your fault...i just missed your voice..i wish i gotten your call..” The blonde admitted with a soft gaze.

He needed to hear those words.

The brunette shoulders finally fell as his guard fell down, tears slowly shaking down his cheeks. He wouldn’t expect forgiveness for what he did, but he gotten caught up in a tingled mess. Bucky’s head fell onto Jason’s shoulder as the blonde run a hand across his back, whispering softly to his ear that he wasn’t his fault.

Never was his fault. It was a guilt they would be have to carryover until the end of time.

He’s not the villain here, he’s the victim of a crime scene. He didn’t want to do it, but he knew the whole mission had to be done.

And now, here he stood in the arms of the man who showed him some kind of love. Compassion. Reassuring words. Kindness towards him after all the mistakes he did.

He wasn’t in stupid Russia. He was in the arms of someone who treated him like a human. Not a weapon to be experienced with.

“I missed you so many times…” Jason told him, his feelings were hurt but his heart was beating quickly for the brunette in front of him.

Feeling that reached up to the surface again after years of forgetting that heartbreak. It was a weakness inside him, when he looked at someone like Bucky Barnes.

Love? Was it some kind of love? Lust?

Possibly. It was a single weekend they both shared but it felt good. Freeing from the issues the world has been facing. A war.

Bucky eyes were pooled as a sob reckoned his body, he crumbled into Jason’s arms. He remembers the warmth and kindness theses are showed him that late night.

All he wanted now, was to faced him and beg for the blonde to help him with the hidden wound he tried to patch up eariler but failed to do so. However he knew he didn’t need to beg for help, he was already getting it. He was allowed to let his guard down for once in a long time.

It felt good, real good.

“J..JJ..I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry for what I did.” Bucky admitted with a chocked sob, “I didn’t expect to see you again after all theses years..and I have to return back soon…but I don’t want to..”

“I know you don’t…I know you have to return but when you do, I want to know that you survived so long and I’m proud of you. You did the hard part and one day you will get a better break..” Jason told him, trying to find the words to express how he felt.

“When..?”

“I don’t know when or how you will get a chance to breathe again but you will Bucky, all I could hope is for you to be happy one day...and for now, I’m going to give you one.”

“Huh? JJ I can’t let you do that..I’m already in so much trouble soon..”

“Let me fix your wound..like I used to?”

“I’ll like that…uh, are you okay?”

“I will be..”

Jason gently guided Bucky to the edge of the bed, waiting for him remove his jacket so he saw the badly cleaned wound. He found a first aid kit and started to clean it correctly, with such ease and gentleness asking if it stings every so often. Bucky started to smile down at the blonde who cleaned his wounds. He noticed the cuts and bruises on his face and arms.

Bucky winced as he softly muttered, “Sorry…”

“Don’t be..I’ve been though worse.” Jason said with a soft smile.

“You got better at this..”

“Yeah well, with the plenty of injuries I kinda had to..”

“You’ve been injured before?”

“Fights and missions in my own line of business..”

“How are you still alive?”

“Same as you, my body is frozen in time. But that’s a story for another time…”

“…are you uh, married? Kids?”

“Oh? Um, no. I couldn’t find anyone who could deal with my burdens. I mean I loved and lost before but i wouldn’t want anyone to suffer a lie that isn’t theirs..”

“Do i wanna ask?”

“I think it’s best not to. I mean, I’m not asking for anything about your line of work or lifestyle. We don’t need to talk about it.”

“Where are you going after this?”

“I uh, don’t know yet..I need to keep the wounds on and build another cover story. But I’ll figure it out later..”

“And now?”

This time, Jason looked up with a soft smile once he finished cleaning and patching him up correctly, as he shrugged. His green eyes burden so much hurt, love and confusion that carried so much depth behind that. Bucky would’ve loved to take that away, anyone would have given him a chance to breath during this time.

He doesn’t know what he did to describe or even deserve this one thing from him.

But sure as hell he was grateful for it.

“Do you ever…wonder what life would’ve been like if none of this ever…uh..um, happened?” Bucky asked, sounding kinda stupid the way his words slurred, “.. I would’ve loved to hang out with our buddies a lot more and date around..”

“Well I would’ve been married, with a kid or two..we would’ve lived closed by to your house..” Jason said with a small smile taking a few pauses as he thought, “…maybe you and me would sneak off for a night at the bar..”

“…I would’ve married Dot..god I loved her..and you would’ve gotten Angie..that was her name, right? I remember her eyeing you a lot..”

“Yeah, Angie Martinelli..I loved her way before I knew she would’ve been friends with Peggy Carter..but times change.”

“You haven’t..”

“You can say that…”

“What about us? If I wasn’t Hydra…where d-did you work after the war?”

“Uh, the SSR..now it’s SHIELD..you would’ve loved it. Hell, I think you would’ve loved Elizabeth.”

A smile crept up Bucky’s lips at the reminder of Elizabeth Stark’s name.

She was smart, sweet as candy, gorgeous, a wildcard and a total badass in his eyes. He got flashes of her face and the moment they met after he was rescued by the others. She was one of the most beautiful and kindness ladies he ever met, greeting each other with so much respect.

She teased him about a dates and he gave her his number. As they were spending night just chatting on the phone at hotels and campsites available for calls. He remembered promising another date before the war ended.

But never did live up to that promise. He hoped she was alright.

Jason noticed the look on his face and gave him a gentle smile, “Hey..it’s alright. We all miss her.. and i know you did the best you could do with the time we had in the war..”

“I know..I know..sometimes I wish I didn’t fall into the woods and that I held onto that railing…but it wasn’t my intention for any of it..it never was. I had a clear goal that day and it got turned into something else…I’m sorry for everything..” Bucky admitted looking down for a moment.

“It wasn’t your fault, okay? None of us could’ve predicted any of this to happen to our lives..but we are surviving and that’s all we can do..”

“I can only imagine what you’ve seen and been though over all theses years..”

“Don’t worry about me..I can handle it…or so I hope I can….what else do you remember?”

“A lot of it..sometimes it comes in flashes..”

“Such as?”

“…this blonde haired man..tall..blue eyes..”

“Ohh..”

“There was a old knock off comic book, I saw it a few days ago…Captain America, I think it is was?”

“Yeah, a lot of countries and states still sell them…and? You remember anything..?”

“I um..I know him, I think i do? I know I do…who is he?..Rogers…”

“...he was your best friend, Bucky…Steve Rogers.”

The name rattled in Bucky’s brain for a few short minutes as he stayed silent. Searching his eyes waiting for a sign as he stayed biting his bottom lip, sniffling trying to remember.

He remembers it. The face, the name, and the sound of his voice.

His best friend til the end of the line…

Jason took out his wallet, rummaging though the brown leather until he pulled out a small picture. A tiny one of the night at the bar that a photographer grabbed. He handed it to Bucky, as his fingers crossed the old photograph as his eyesight got blurry. Fresh tears came rolling in.

“Steve.” The brunette muttered, as the flashes of memories came back better than ever, like someone clicked the undo button.

“You have this?” Bucky asked mumbling about the picture in his hand.

Jason nods, “I like to keep old photographs in my wallet..that one was supposed to be for Peggy, uh Carter, to keep..she wanted it framed.”

“He looks..i look..oh god Steve..how could i—? How could I forget his face of all people?”

“It’s not your fault. HYDRA..they did it. They don’t want you to remember of this, because they know something might happen..”

“…did they ever take you..?”

“They tried. Once. In the 40s, a lot of Russian men and women. They kidnapped me during a mission..they almost wiped my mind..i mean, they kinda did..”

“..you don’t remember a lot either?”

“Some memories came and went..just like you, the situation it feels a little fuzzy. But I’m okay. We’re both okay…do you remember anything about Steve?”

“I remember a lot..before and after the war when i fell, I remember the memories of him..”

Bucky had a look in his eyes as if he’s reliving a memory. He let out a light chuckle and sniffled, “..he’s a little punk. I told him to not do anything stupid…”

Jason just watched Bucky in that moment. He didn’t say a word. Just listen to him as he mumbled and muttered softly with a light smile at his memories. A look in his eyes seemed to return as he watch him.

Some lightning of gentle glee in the brunette’s eyes as he talked, running his fingers crossed his long brown hair and catching the other man’s eyes every now and then.

“..do you remember your full name..?” The blonde asked softly, after being silent for so long leaning against the bed.

“Mhmm…more or less..i don’t like it..” The brunette admitted, matching his soft tone.

“..James Barnes..I always liked Bucky better..”

“..i think i was a good friend, right? I was good enough that it became my nickname..?”

“Well, I remember you did say that Steve gave you that nickname when you were kids..so i think you were a great friend..”

“..and was i good to you?..am i good to you?”

“What do you think?”

“..i think i was good to you?..i hurt you though..i hurt a lot of people’s feelings..i know it..”

“It wasn’t you. I can’t blame you, for hurting me or those people..”

“..why are you so good..to me? The world has been cruel to me..”

The blonde gave him a small smile, tugging some hair out of his face for a second and let out of a breath before standing up. Jason knew why he was good to Bucky Barnes. The world is a cruel place fulled with cruel people and niceness isn’t something everyone gets. He should know.

In his eyes, the brunette deserves some kindness and attention after everything.

“The world is cruel and hard and if it sees any bit of light..it will crushes it. And you deserve a chance to feel cared for, not be seen as a weapon. Or an experiment..” Jason said with a soft gaze.

His words meant more than he lead on.

“It sounds like your talking from experience..” Bucky replies, fumbling with his sleeves.

“I sorta am. And how i seen it, your more than what they made you to be.”

“You know…your the only thing that makes sense right now to me..thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

———

The rest of the night went as follows. The silence of fallen snow along with the sound of plates clanging together then dropped into the small sink. They were able to get food and water from the hotel, and able to find some form of entertainment on TV.

Hell, they found some extra clothing left in a closet to borrow for some time.

Both of them stayed in comfortable silence, giving all smiles and having conversations.

It was late. Very late into the night when tiredness started to take fold. It was mostly Jason who was tired, trying to nurse a tiny headache meanwhile Bucky was just resting his head on a pillow.

“You should rest..” Bucky said softly, resting his head against his curled in arms.

“You first.” Jason replied with a soft tease in his voice, looking over his shoulder.

“Hilarious..at least take a nap.”

“I’m fine..”

“What’s wrong?”

“Should i be the one to ask you that?”

“Jason. What’s going on?”

“..how can i rest knowing what i know now..? I’m not mad about anything, just sad and tired..surprised.”

“Why?”

“It’s Christmas time, Bucky. I lost a lot my friend beforehand..my nephew hates his father..and some others are god knows where..”

“..i’m sorry. It’s my fault your gone..they’re gone.”

“No it’s not..our Christmas was already a messy one, before you showed up..no one really cares about the holiday too much anymore.”

“So i sorta saved your Christmas?”

“I guess you did.”

Both men let out a small chuckle at the last comment. It was the holiday season and here they are in the mist of it all, hiding out til morning or early afternoon. It wasn’t so bad, per say since they weren’t alone in the slightest bit but they would’ve liked it to be in better circumstances. Jason knew he wasn’t gonna enjoy this holiday season as much as he used to, and seeing Bucky was a surprise to say the least.

But a serious secret he would have to keep, like other things he kept secret from the world.

He knew he would have to return back home soon, change his whole identity once again and transfer any information onto new documents, like he did every December reach the end of a decade.

Bucky watched him, move across the room to reach forward and grab a few dusty books from the small group of shelves. It confused Bucky onto what he was he doing, seeing the man pick up a napkin and a pencil. He watched him scramble and scribble onto the napkin, crossing things down as he went. He justified his own actions against the questions he had, leaning over to get a closer look at the actions Jason silently took.

It made him wonder how much times he did this in pure silence as the TV played as background noise. His bets were 15 times a day, once every couple of months? He saw titles of different types being scripted on the napkin, but it wasn’t clear to him because of subtle it was written, where it look like a small riddle or rhyme in a children’s book.

He watched Jason pick up on the paused that he made, looking over at the TV Christmas movie that was set up on the screen.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Bucky muttered, turning the volume of the movie up to an 8.

“Hm?” Jason answered, resting book against the bedside table.

“The napkin. The books. You look like a mad man.”

“Hilarious, Barnes. I’m just tinkering with something, a new theme..”

“N-new theme?”

“Uh, new alias, I guess..”

“Walk me through this, for I can understand what you mean..because I think I get it.”

“You were sent to murder Mr and Mrs. Stark, not knowing they would have an extra passenger seated in the back, right?”

“HYDRA assumed that Stark would have a party or something following him to his drive but they didn’t confirm that being the case. They want anyone who was in the car, as witnesses or something to be dead..you were there.”

“Exactly. I was there, they didn’t even bother to confirm if Stark would have another passenger there like his son or his best friends. But they want evidence of the murder, you shot the sirens and cameras right?”

Bucky gave him a look as if he was stupid or something, of course he shot the cameras. Jason cleared his throat after that look he received, getting his answer. That was also when Bucky realized what he means and where he’s getting at. A new cover story, an alias and everything after tonight. It made him wonder how many times has he done this routine before.

Bucky sighed, “I see what you’re doing. I get it, I do and you won’t tell me anything about the alias to keep you safe..for HYDRA doesn’t ask me question, they might as well wipe my mind after this mission is over..”

“Hm, yeah. I’ve done this before and I’ll do it a million times over.” Jason repiled, handing the brunette an old school pin from his jacket marked with dried up blood and sighed, “This is mine.”

“What the hell is this?”

“Old school SSR pin, every single agent had one. Howard had copy in his jacket pocket that you didn’t take, they won’t know the difference between the signs of the pin, that’s your evidence.”

“Ja-I can’t take it. It’s yours..it’s evidence but still..”

“They might want evidence, Bucky. I won’t need it, not where I’m going. I have everything else at home..I’m glad Howard died with his pin in his pocket, it meant he created everything he could for the organization’s future and I would have to return back to SHIELD without mine..”

“You’re an idiot. They will know you don’t have yours, won’t they?”

He shook his head this time, he had that one covered. With all the years he lived, he made sure he had a copy of everything he could possibly own and could be used for travel tucked away in a small area at his house. Certain items stayed within that box and others were thrown away, to not stir any controversy over him. Jason wasn’t that stupid.

It made Bucky wonder however, if he didn’t murder Jason Underwood allegedly since it seemed like that name died for the public a long time ago, then what alias did he take down within that flamed car earlier? It was better he didn’t know that particular name until later, when asked. He just nodded instead with a soft sigh.

The rest of the night was spend a rather sleepless one, due to Bucky wondering and reloading his equipment, packing up everything needed to return back to work soon. Meanwhile Jason stayed sat on the bed, trying to rematch up his own wounds and rewrite in his mind the way to get back home without any deep questions. His cover was the easiest part, he was badly hurt which was truth and wasn’t thinking straight due to having an unlimited amount of time.

His mind ran across to only responsive person he knew who would grab him what was needed was Daniel Sousa, no questions asked, without Peggy on his back door for too long pondering what happened.

Bucky was half asleep, his head rested on the pillow with a soft smile watching the blonde chuckling softly to himself. Jason was resting in his bed with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling humming a soft tune as his eyes glanced over at the brunette who was staring right at him. His piercing blue eyes connected with his green ones in a shimmer of the bedroom lights. If it wasn’t for the night he wouldn’t have blushed more easily as he should have.

“What? Can’t find the confidence to look me in the eyes, Underwood?” Bucky said with a grin, chuckling as he let out a sigh he didn’t realize he was holding. He might as well be flirting.

“Watch it, Barnes. Last person who looked at me that way, i ended up on a hill in France.” Jason added shaking his head, returning the effortlessly warm grin.

“Ohh who was the lucky one?”

“You know who. For someone who just finished a murder mission, you’re awfully flirty with me.”

“I didn’t want to do it..you know that. It’s just seeing you all relax..makes me forget about everything, you know?”

“I know..despite that whole look of yours, I’m actually digging the number you’re wearing..it’s stupid..I’m delusional.”

“If you’re delusional then I’m sure as gone.”

The two of them softly chuckled.

Jason softly smiled, “Hey.”

“Hm?” Bucky replied staring back at him again.

“You look..good.”

“I uh..I feel good.”

They shift in their respective positions, rolling over in bed to face the other person in a more comfortable manner. Despite all the stress and frustration that they feel about tonight, the moment they looked at each other’s faces, it all melted away.

Hydra, being on the run, Shield, keeping lies to themselves and begging for the truth not to come back to haunt them—all of that? It drifted over to the back of their minds like it was nothing.

Funny, how seeing someone who you missed so much time with can do to a person.

As if, it was written in stone by the gods above to somehow be interwoven in each other’s life one way or another. Jason and Bucky shouldn’t be allowed to share such a secretive moment together, tucked away in some hotel room after such a harsh encounter, yet here they are. Both cold and alone in the mist of the night, despite the central heating system wrapping around the ground, it seems like it would barely survive the hours up ahead.

“I missed you..” Jason admitted, as his voice lowered to a whisper but the brunette heard it.

Bucky was taken back by his words as he melted a little and returned to confession, “…so did I. I uh, I missed you a lot..”

“It was some silly night but I remember it, you know?”

“You remember the rest of the week? We sneaked off to every other store to find the best souvenir but ended up at a ice cream parlor instead.”

“Didn’t we share an ice cream together?”

“Cause they only had a couple scoops of Rocky Road left! You do remember.”

Bucky roared a laugh as Jason grinned.

The Winter Soldier wasn’t in his eyes, nor was the Agent at SHIELD in his own.

Just two old men, Jason Grey and James Buchanan.

There was a lot bending on their hands with the horrific incident that occurred in front of their eyes, yet neither side had the slightest intention to bring it up again for a long time. Yes, Jason could’ve shot him while stuck in this hotel and Bucky could’ve done the same at any point, but they didn’t dare to do so.

Jason knew if he did, HYDRA would’ve been after him in a matter of weeks and it would take longer for him to recover and return home to his life in California. Bucky knew if he killed him, it would’ve been another kill in his books that would haunt him forever and he made a silent promise to Howard Stark to not go after his son, in response he needed the blonde to return home alive.

Aside from the obvious mess brewing upon them and lack of self respect, if it was up to Jason and Bucky, the two would run away together. Be hidden away from the world until everything died down and they could start somewhere else, have a better chance to escape the chaos and breathe.

Yet, it wasn’t in the cards for either of them.

Instead both men ate whatever snacks found in the refrigerator and vending machines in the halls, watching the crappy old movies on television as they stayed chatting until dawn…

…the morning sunlight peaked through the shades of the hotel that very first alarm to strike upon the room, cracking open the notion that this wasn’t a dream, everything that happened last night was just fact.

The second clue to this alarming trend was that the other bed was emptied out, paneling over the bed closes to the door as glimpses of the blonde and brunette snoring calmly. Fully clothed, wearing some fabric they found in one of the closets comfortable enough to rest in. Bucky’s hand lay across Jason’s chest as the blonde hummed in his sleep with his fact turned toward the brunette’s direction.

Both curled underneath the blanket for warmth, breathing deeply into the air surrounding the room. The pillows were soft, the mattress kept itself polished and comfortable, as blankets were stacked one over the other beneath the pair.

The third striking feature of the set was the moment Bucky slowly turned to his left, letting out a soft groan as he fluttered his eyes open. He squeezed his eyes for a second to breathe in the silence and light that filled his senses, meeting the sleeping gaze of the blonde man.

He only felt a slight smile reaching his lips, as the memory of last night slowly wired in his brain, where the two were watching on a movie then nodding off on his bed unexpectedly, the temperature dropped as it resulted in finding a couple more blankets to keep warm. A part of him should shiver and regret this folding turn of events that took place.

But he couldn’t shake off the pressure of leaving him in the hotel alone after all of this is over. If it was up to him, he wouldn’t think twice and find a way to escape this situation, bringing the other with him for just a little while. Despite the high urge to do something about it, he couldn’t get himself to disappear from the bed and leave the key behind.

Instead he stayed, watching every tall tale feature the blonde had to offer his memories.

“..mornin’..” Mumbled Jason softly and ever so gently as his eyes stayed closed.

It almost startles Bucky at the sudden voice reaching his ears but nonetheless he smiles, “..m-morning.”

There was a peaceful silence that drafted between them.

“How did you sleep?” Asked the blonde, slowly opening his eyes turning to get a glimpse of the brunette.

And by god, James Barnes wasn’t allowed to look this well at the crack of dawn. His long dark locks curled around the edges of the pillow, his blue eyes shining in the sunlight and the cool metallic hand rested on his chest just as comfortably.

After a long second, Bucky responded, “I uh, I slept well actually..”

“I bet.” Jason joked, bringing a light smile to his face.

That caused a crash of light chuckle to fill the air.

The morning went pretty well. The two stayed in bed staring at the ceiling and stealing glances half of the time, enjoying the light banter. Eventually Bucky crawled out of bed and got himself in the shower, then soon went Jason’s turn to freshen up.

After a long period of time of declining interest in food, Jason’s stomach growls as he grabbed himself a sandwich from the hotel bar and a couple of drinks from the vending machine. He may or may not have taken a couple of bucks out of the brunette’s wallet that morning.

But he repaid him with a sandwich and a bottle of water, despite Bucky’s light glares he couldn’t be bothered to give a remark as hunger strikes. He just ate calmly and hummed a small smile to the man.

Sadly enough, the time they had spent together came to a close. Items were packed, stitches were wrapped and clothing was tucked away for any cleaning lady to come in later. Jason sat on the bed buckling his bootstraps and cuffing his socks into place, as his gaze turned to the man who was fumbling with his jacket once more. Bucky nodded, getting the last clasp secured on his jacket and swung his bag over his shoulder.

The two had a seamless idea to leave the hotel one after the other, in order to not stir up any wondering eyes or glimpses of controversy in the air. Yes, the thought was more than simple for anyone to follow along if they were looking too closely but neither was willing to take that chance.

Barnes was first to leave.

Neither said a word, just kept their gaze afar from another.

As Bucky stood by the door, his hand hovering over the doorknob, a sudden wave of emotion washed over him once his gaze fell on Jason for the 5th time this morning. He couldn't bear the thought of leaving without expressing the depth of his feelings and gratitude towards the man.

He didn't know if he would retreat or regret this later on, however at the moment, he didn't care to dwell on those thoughts.

With a swift and decisive movement, Bucky turned around, closing the distance between them in an instant. A finger hung under the blonde's chin, staring into each other's eyes. Without a second later, his lips met Jason's with a gentle and tender touch, a silent testament to the unspoken words that lingered between them.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as they shared the intimate embrace, the weight of their emotions hanging heavy in the air.

Jason's initial surprise quickly melted into a reciprocal response, his body instinctively leaning in to meet Bucky's kiss. Their lips moved together in a dance of longing and affection, each moment filled with a sense of warmth and belonging that neither wanted to let go of.

When they finally parted, there was a softness in their smiles, an understanding that transcended words. It was a silent agreement, a shared moment of mutual affection and longing that bound them together in ways they couldn't fully comprehend.

A couple of milliseconds past, standing there in pure silence.

Bucky once turned to leave, a smile graced his lips, his heart filled with a newfound sense of peace and contentment. The door closed behind as he turned towards the steps leading himself to the first floor of the hotel.

Jason watched him go, still slightly breathless from the unexpected kiss, a part of him couldn't help but chuckle softly to himself, shaking his head in disbelief at the whirlwind of emotions that had swept over them both.

And as they went their separate ways, the memory of that fleeting moment lingered in the air, a reminder of the small yet somehow profound connection they shared...

//

Ahhh! Couldn't resist writing for this unexacting pairing, this has been in my drafts for a year now and decided to finally post it. Anyways let me know what you think. Remember to like, comment and share

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