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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 4 months ago

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Come Find Me | Bucky Barnes x Reader

I am back back back again! I have missed writing so much, I just don't have nearly the amount of time that I used to. But I'm in my last semester of school! So hopefully I'll be back on a consistent fanfic grind once I'm done :) PS: If you know what the title is referencing, you get a big hug from me.

Word Count: 13,439

Warnings: blood, talk of violence, reader injury

Bucky checked his texts every few minutes. Initially, he lied to himself about the reason behind it. He told himself he must’ve opened his conversation with you accidentally, or that he mistook an email notification for a text from you. Simple, innocent mistakes.

Either way, he always ended up staring at your side of the conversation, hoping for a gray ellipsis to appear.

But after a while, he could no longer deny the truth- and why would he want to? You were coming home.

You hadn’t been gone long, and your mission was projected to be a cake walk. But he couldn’t help it; he missed you. He missed you when you went on missions, when you visited your parents out of state, when you slept in your room down the hall. Missing you was part of him now, woven into the fabric of his being. It matched the material of his soul perfectly, like he was always meant to feel this way.

He fired off a quick “let me know when you land” message and waited, hoping you’d write back soon.

Usually, you texted him when you were headed back to the compound. It gave him a countdown to your return and something to look forward to. It also signaled to him that you were, in fact, coming home alive. Even if a bit banged up, you were well enough to shoot him a message. And that always eased his worries.

Today, however, was different. No text, no call.

It struck him as bizarre and sounded Bucky’s internal alarms. But he silenced them as best he could. He wasn’t going to let himself get worked up, not when you had a perfectly good reason for not messaging him.

This was your first time leading a mission with a new recruit under your wing. Bucky knew you devoted your full attention to your trainee, giving him absolutely everything you had. You took this position- as well as your pupil’s safety and success- very seriously. He knew you were probably busy helping your recruit learn a swath of new things, and who was he to interrupt?

Bucky opened the log and saw your jet had been marked as ‘incoming’ only minutes ago. A sigh of relief left his chest and eased his muscles. Sure, he would’ve rather heard that information from you, but it didn’t matter. Your jet would be here soon; he had no reason to worry.

The moment he saw that your jet was homeward bound, he lost the ability to think about anything else. He counted the minutes, the seconds. You had to be close, right? The log wouldn’t have said ‘Incoming’ if you were still hours away.

To pass the time, he folded laundry, answered emails, reread a few chapters of The Hobbit- but he couldn’t focus. He thought of you, only you. And no matter how hard he tried to distract himself, he couldn’t hang around his room any longer. He couldn’t stand it. He needed to be there when the jet landed. He needed to meet you on the steps of the aircraft and wrap you in a bear hug.

And there was no real harm in waiting near the hangar, was there? ‘If anything,�� he told himself, ‘It’s actually more convenient for her if I meet her there. That way, I can carry her bag- she’s probably tired.’

Anything to rationalize his desperate need to be near you.

He knew in his heart of hearts that you didn’t need him to carry your bag or help you off the jet. But this lie was all the convincing he needed. Without hesitation, he ditched his room and set off down the hall, your impending homecoming pulling him forward.

It was in that moment he noticed just how far the elevator was from his room. The walk seemed to stretch on and on, the hallway growing longer with each step. And how had he never noticed how slowly the elevator moved? It slid downward at a glacial pace, toying with his patience. For such an expensive, state of the art building, the elevator moved like an ancient piece of turn of the century machinery. Bucky cursed Tony’s engineering.

Everything seemed to add time, multiplying his moments without you. The universe liked toying with him, teasing him. And this was just another cruel joke.

The moment the doors opened, Bucky sprang free out into the hallway. He knocked into Clint and his group of trainees and called an apology over his shoulder without stopping. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t waste time- not when you could arrive at any moment.

His field of view narrowed into tunnel vision, only allowing for visualization of the path toward the hangar. He didn’t greet his fellow team members or allow for distraction. You were his one-track mind. That is, until something stopped him.

“Shit, sorry, man,” your trainee, Jake, laughed as he bumped into Bucky. He took a step to the side and attempted to continue down the hall, but Bucky blocked his path.

“Jake?” Bucky eyed a bloody gash on Jake’s eyebrow, “when did you guys get back?”

Jake gave a casual shrug and checked his phone, “I don’t know, five minutes ago?”

“Oh, okay…” Bucky reached for his phone, but found his screen void of notifications. If you landed five minutes ago with your trainee safe and sound, why didn’t you send him a message? It was out of character for you.

“Well, where’s your partner in crime? Or crime fighting, I guess,” Bucky tried to joke, but his tone was strained. He eyed each person who came around the corner, hoping to find your face. “Did you see which way she went?”

“Nah, she’s not here,” Jake was scrolling through Instagram, only half paying attention.

Bucky’s disappointed sigh left his chest deflated, empty. “Oh, did she say where she was going? Or when she’d be back?”

Jake pulled his focus from his phone and stared at Bucky with confusion on his face. His brows pulled together, his mouth hung slightly ajar. But finally, he made sense of Bucky’s words. “OHHH, okay, my bad- I think there was a miscommunication just now.”

Bucky sighed again- this time, with relief.

“Yeah, no, she’s not here,” Jake continued, “because she didn’t make it back.”

Bucky’s ears started ringing.

The sharp, piercing sound blocked out voices. Footsteps on the tile. Maybe Jake was trying to speak to him, but Bucky heard only the shrill sound of shock. Seconds later, his nerves fell numb. The utter absence of sensation disconnected him from his body. He was lost in a liminal atmosphere with no stability, no purchase. His entire being was shutting down, one sense at a time.

Bucky told himself to focus, to compute what he’d heard. He did his best to make sense of Jake’s words, but to no avail. His mind simply couldn’t understand the phrase “she didn’t make it back”. The words had shed their meaning entirely and sounded foreign to Bucky as they rattled around his skull. Goosebumps rose over the surface of his skin, and a cold sweat created a sheen across his face. He feared he might get sick.

“I- I’m sorry,” he forced himself back into his body, back to the present. “I don’t think I understand.”

“Things got pretty hairy- this was not the easy mission they said it would be,” Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not fair, I definitely got a way harder assignment for my first mission than all the other new agents, and I think it’s-”

Bucky’s glare could’ve sliced Jake in half, “get to the point.”

“Right, um,” Jake continued, “I told her over comms that I was leaving. I gave her plenty of time to meet me at the jet, but she didn’t answer. And she never came outside.” He shrugged, “I had to leave for my own safety.”

“So, you just-” Bucky felt himself losing his grip. “You left her there? Alone?” He didn’t realize he was shouting, didn’t realize he’d drawn attention to himself- until Agent Hill showed up.

She placed a light hand on Bucky’s tense shoulder, but instantly withdrew. He was shaking, practically vibrating under her palm. “Is there a problem here, guys? I don’t want-”

“He left her behind,” was all Bucky could manage.

Maria stared at Jake in disbelief, “you did what?”

A strange mixture of rage and heartbreak seethed behind Bucky’s eyes, “You don’t just abandon your partner-”

Jake’s attitude disgusted Bucky. He was detached, irritated. He rolled his eyes like an insolent child. “Relax, man. Jesus Christ, this isn’t the army. I didn’t promise to ‘leave no man behind’ or whatever-”

Bucky had heard enough. He lifted jake by the collar of his shirt, twisting the material in his metal fist. Jake’s head sent a sickening thud resounding through the space as Bucky forced him against the nearest wall.

“What the fuck?” Jake squirmed in Bucky’s grasp, “There are casualties in the field all the time, why am I being punished for-”

Bucky released Jake at once, sending him crashing to the floor.

His voice was quiet, hollow. “Casualties?” He swallowed hard, “Is she-”

Jake shrugged at he rubbed at the bruise forming on his neck. “I don’t know, I assume so. I didn’t stick around to find out.”

And just like that, Bucky was gone.

He took off down the hall, forcing himself forward as a soul-crushing panic swallowed him whole. No matter how many times he blinked, no matter how fervently he shook his head, he couldn’t rid his mind of the picture Jake painted for him. Each time he shut his eyes he saw you- alone. Your bloodied, broken body laying collapsed against a wall of a Hydra base. Your skin slick with blood. Your skin cold. Void of life.

He moved quickly, but not quick enough. He simply couldn’t outrun the familiar feeling closing in on him. His heavy, well-worn cloak of grief wound its way across his shoulders and twisted itself around his neck. He knew the suffocating sensation all too well. It weighed him down but couldn’t dampen his pace, nothing could; not when your life hung in the balance.

He was too well acquainted with loss by now, too familiar with mourning. There’d been a time when he wondered if he’d ever grieve again. He’d lost his family, his friends, himself- what else was there? What more could he possibly lose? But the moment he met you, he knew he’d one day mourn again. He just didn’t realize that time would come so soon.

A startling cold prickled at his skin, his lungs refused to inflate. How much time did you have left? How long would it take him to get to you? Were you even-

Hill’s voice yanked him out of his spiral, “Barnes, hey-” She made a grab at his shoulder, but her feeble attempt was no match for Bucky’s pace. “Where are you going?”

“To get her back.” Bucky’s tone was firm, resolute. He was going to bring you home or die trying.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Hill nearly tripped over her own feet as she tried to keep up with Bucky’s long strides. “You heard what Jake said, it’s a dangerous location- more dangerous than we thought. I think it might be best to wait it out for a few days, let things calm down and then-”

Bucky turned suddenly, stopping Maria in her tracks. “I’m not just going to leave her there.”

Maria shrunk away from the fierceness in his eyes, “I know you’re upset, but she might not be-”

“I don’t care.” His gruff tone dissolved, making way for the fear he’d so desperately tried to hide. “Whether she’s alive or-” he couldn’t bring himself to voice the alternative.

Bucky knew what it was like to be assumed dead. He knew what it was like to be left in the field.

“She deserves to come home,” he said.

Maria couldn’t argue with him.

“Round up as many members of the med team as you can and have them meet me in the hangar. We’re leaving in ten minutes- sooner if we can.” Bucky turned and resumed his previous path, “I’ll be in the armory.”

Bucky grabbed as much weaponry as his duffel would carry without splitting at the seams and made his way to the hangar. He hoped to find ten, maybe fifteen members of the medical team waiting for him on the jet. He wasn’t sure of your condition, didn’t know how many breaths you had left. He wanted to give you the best possible chance at surviving the onslaught you endured.

But when he turned the corner into the hangar, he found only three scrub-clad bodies.

“Is this it?” Bucky boarded the jet and dropped his bag to the floor. He eyed the scant amount of medical support, their uncertain expressions. His hopes of bringing you home alive dwindled.

A nurse who’d stitched Bucky up more times than he could count gave him a nervous smile. “The med bay is swamped, the team could barely afford to let us come with you.”

Bucky didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want excuses or rationalizations. All he wanted was to bring you home with your heart still beating. And three medical professionals, he decided, was better than none.

The flight to your location only gave Bucky more time to worry. He obsessively checked his weaponry, hovered over the med team’s supplies. But no amount of double and triple checking could save him from the spiral. He traveled down the path of every possible “what if?”, leading him only to heartache. No matter where he searched, he couldn’t find a positive outcome. And though he didn’t want to acknowledge the odds, he knew yours were slim- impossible, even.

And as the jet grew closer to your location, Bucky steeled himself for what he knew he’d find: you, his best friend, his reason for living, his everything- dead. Cold. Lifeless. None of the horrors he faced in the past could compare; no pain could ever be greater. Bucky knew he’d hurt for the rest of his life.

The clouds parted as the jet began its descent. Slowly, a large stone building appeared out of the fog like a monster in the horror movies you loved so much. It stood in an otherwise empty clearing, its shadow looming over the dying grass. Smoke billowed from holes in the roof, the walls. Whatever happened here was catastrophic. Disastrous.

Bucky’s heart sat lodged in his throat as he imagined you trapped in there. Goosebumps rose over the surface of his skin as he stared at the looming structure. He had to get you out, even if he died trying.

Just before the jet touched down, an idea popped into Bucky’s head. It scaled the high walls he’d tried to erect to protect himself from thoughts of your demise and grabbed him by the throat. It was smart- brilliant, actually. He was shocked he could even think straight given the circumstances.

“FRIDAY,” Bucky called out, “is comm 1209 working?” He shoved his own comm in his ear and waited for a response.

“Comm 1209 is on and in range,” Friday said. “Would you like me to connect you?”

He couldn’t say yes fast enough.

A few staticky clicks and pops vibrated against Bucky’s eardrum as his comm connected to yours. But he was too scared to speak. What if you didn’t answer? What if he heard you take your dying breaths? Just the thought was enough to make him sick.

He owed it to you, though, to at least try. He’d always said he’d do anything for you, that he’d risk it all for you- and he meant it every time. If reaching out to you over comms exposed him to something horrible, something traumatic and unforgettable, at least he tried. At least he attempted to keep his promise. And after everything he’d been through, what was one more life-shattering, soul-crushing nightmare?

“H- um…” Bucky swallowed the large lump obstructing his throat. “Hello?” He waited a moment, holding his breath the entire time, and tried again. “Hello?”

He waited.

No response.

“Doll? It’s me. It’s Bucky…”

The dead silence on the other end of the line dragged on. It seemed like his words disappeared into the air, unacknowledged. Unheard. Maybe the sound of his voice was reverberating inside your ear as you lay dying. Or maybe he was talking to your corpse.

The thought made him nauseous.

“Please, sweetheart. If you’re there- if you’re able- just say one word. Say anything,” he pled. A long bout of silence followed.

He clenched and released his metal fist again and again, desperate to rid himself of the panic settling into his bones. He was stupid to think you survived, stupid to let himself be optimistic. He made it here as quickly as he could, but he couldn’t save you. He was too late.

He wanted to take one of his many weapons and turn it on himself.

But a small sound stopped him.

“Buck…”

He almost fell to his knees. At the sound of your voice, an overwhelming warmth banished the cold that infiltrated his bones. Against all odds, you were alive.

A deep sigh of relief seeped from Bucky’s lungs, “Sweetheart…”

A hurricane of emotion rattled against the storm doors inside Bucky’s mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about the ‘almosts’. How he almost lost you, how you almost died alone in a Hydra base. But he couldn’t allow it to swallow him- not yet. There was no time for a breakdown. He needed to move, he needed to get to you.

He shrugged off the grief that rested heavy on his shoulders and swallowed the impending sob that vibrated inside his throat. “I’m here- I’m gonna come get you. Just tell me where-”

A staunch refusal came from your end of the comm, “No- no…” You took a sharp, rattling breath, “no way.”

Bucky didn’t like the way you had to fight to get your words out. You were clearly struggling, doing everything in your power to stay on this side of consciousness. He wondered how much time you had left.

But still, there was a familiar strength to your voice. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the renewed hope of rescue; something was keeping you alive.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, just tell me where you are. The jet just landed. I’m gonna get you out and-”

“I said- I said no,” you breathed. “You can’t c-come in here, it’s too dangerous… we were a-ambushed.”

Even in your condition, even when Bucky was your only hope of rescue, his safety was your first thought. You’d rather die alone than put Bucky’s life at risk; the thought made his cheeks pink and filled his chest with a fuzzy warmth. But he didn’t have time to enjoy the feeling.

“If you don’t tell me where you are, I’ll just sweep the whole building,” Bucky said, using your worry against you. “That means more opportunities for me to run into Hydra operatives. More time inside the base- it’ll be way more dangerous.” He could practically see you rolling your eyes, “so it’s probably better if you just give me a direct route, don’t you think?”

Bucky smiled to himself as he envisioned you on the other end. He was certain you were arguing with yourself, cursing his rationale.

He waited for you to come at him with a sharp retort or a sarcastic quip but heard nothing. The silence on your end of the line dragged on. And on. It lasted far too long for Bucky’s comfort. Surely, you couldn’t still be thinking about his proposition? He’d given you more than enough time to make up your mind, more than enough time to come up with a response. It was time you didn’t have.

What if you’d fallen unconscious? What if, in those quiet moments, your soul vacated this earth?

Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. He disembarked the jet, resolving to search every inch of the base. But just as he reached the dark, unsettling building, you spoke.

“F-fifteenth floor. Northeast… northeast quadrant,” you sighed, defeated. “There’s a- a room at the end of this hall, I think it’s maybe an office?” Again, you took a long pause. The energy required to think, to speak, was energy you didn’t have. “Just f-follow the trail of blood.”

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat. He shuddered at the thought of your blood leaving a path down the stark white, sterile hallways of the base. But he didn’t have time to focus on anything other than getting you out; this was a rescue. He owed it to you to keep his head level. To focus on getting you out as quickly as he could.

“The power is… it’s out”, you said. “You’re gonna h-have to take-”

Bucky wanted to save you from wasting any extra energy, “The stairs. Got it.”

And while he normally didn’t mind getting a few extra steps in, he knew the time required to climb fifteen flights of stairs would push the limits of your survival.

But he pushed the ever-encroaching sense of doom to the side and put on a brave face for you. For himself. “Okay, I’m coming to get you,” he promised. “Stay awake, and don’t move.”

“As if I h-have a choice,” you laughed a breathy, hollow laugh. A long groan followed.

Your pain radiated through Bucky’s chest. He didn’t want to climb stairs or scour hallways- he just wanted to be there. To instantly materialize at your side. To bring you instantaneous comfort. He lamented the super soldier serum’s lack of teleportation abilities.

“You know what I mean, doll. Just stay awake, okay?” Bucky drew his gun and stepped inside the building. “Don’t fall asleep. Do anything you have to do- just stay awake. Can you keep talking until I get there?”

“W-what am I…” You let out a raspy exhale, “supposed to talk about?”

Bucky cleared a long hallway and found the stairwell, “Anything, just keep talking.”

Another extended silence filled the air; it nearly drove Bucky crazy. Your silences held limitless possibilities, horrifying ‘what ifs’.

“It w-wasn’t supposed to be… to be like this,” you finally said. “It wasn’t supposed to be this dangerous. This was Jake’s first mission- it wasn’t f-fair to him.” Heartache coated your every word. Even after your partner abandoned you, even after Jake forced you to suffer and bleed all alone- you still sympathized with him. Still felt sorry for him.

Bucky felt no such thing.

“I know, doll. Keep talking, okay?”

You sighed. “We s-split up for recon… that’s when they- when they came at me.” Your next few breaths were so shallow, your lungs barely inflated; the lack of oxygen left you dizzy. A thin veil of glittering spots sparkled and danced on the edges of your periphery. “It all h-happened so fast… there were so many of them. I just- I remember pain. And I hoped Jake was okay, w-wherever he was.”

Your heart was too good for this job. For people like Jake. Bucky admired your kindness, your empathy, your selfless nature. Even in the face of pain, of death- you thought about others. You often told Bucky how unfair life had been to him, lamenting his treatment at the hands of fate. Bucky found himself doing the same for you and your kind heart.

“I called out for h-him, I needed backup… I kept asking him to come help me-” A sharp cough rattled out of your throat.

Bucky cringed at the sound. It was the only sound in the building. He hadn’t heard anyone else. Hadn’t seen one Hydra operative- at least, not a live one. He came across their bodies every now and again but didn’t see a single living soul. He was sure they deserted after the explosion. Just like Jake.

The destruction, however, was everywhere. Bullet casings littered the floor. Blood stained the tile floors. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead. He had to get you out of here.

“But he n-never answered. And then he told me he was leaving. He said he was- he was outside already. He gave me n-ninety seconds to meet him at the jet…” Your words were tinged with devastation, with hopelessness, with betrayal. “I tried- I did my best to make it down the stairs. But I was- I was dizzy… I was b-bleeding.” The memory stung like your fresh wounds. “I kept slipping on- on my own blood. I just c-couldn’t move fast enough. It hurt too much.”

Wrath burned inside Bucky like a raging forest fire. But his utter heartbreak doused it completely, extinguishing the rageful flames. He found himself unable to think, to breathe. It took everything in him to keep moving forward. Who could ever leave you behind like that? Who could ignore your suffering and sentence you to death without a second thought? The image of you stumbling, struggling to run for your life gutted him.

“And then- and then I heard the jet t-take off,” you sighed. “And I listened as it got farther and farther away… until it was g-gone. And I was- I was alone.”

He thought of you sitting alone in cold silence as the noise from the jet quieted. As your hope dwindled. The entire base must’ve felt like a tomb, like a massive, lonely grave meant just for you.

Bucky almost fell to his knees. Sobs throttled the inside of his chest, begging for release. Tears burned inside his lash line. Jake didn’t just leave you behind, he marooned you without care. And in his departure, he sealed your fate.

“I d-didn’t have a way to call for… for help. My phone was on the j-jet with jake.”

The sorrow that stained your words was all too familiar to Bucky. It was the same hopelessness that accompanied him every day that he was at Hydra. When he laid in the snow for hours upon hours after falling from the train. He never wished that kind of despondency, that kind of misery on anyone. And knowing that you, the person who deserved it the least, experienced it for even a moment shattered him.

“I realized I… I didn’t h-have any options,” you breathed.

A collapsed column blocked Bucky’s path as he tried to make his way from the sixth floor to the seventh. The concrete was too high, too precarious to scale. If he tried to climb it and got hurt, it would only serve to diminish your chances of survival. And he wasn’t willing to risk that. With a huff, Bucky exited the northwest stairwell in search of another route. This was a waste of time- time you didn’t have.

He painstakingly checked every hall until he finally found another stairwell. His breathing came a little easier as he rocketed his way up the stairs, growing ever closer to you.

“So, I found this- this room. It’s quiet. It’s out of the w-way. I needed somewhere to hide. S-somewhere to…” A small crack of emotion cut through your voice, “somewhere to die.”

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Jake got to return home safe and sound while you struggled to stay alive. It wasn’t fair that you had to seek out your own deathbed. Bucky wanted to scream, to break things, to spill every last drop of Jake’s blood. But he was a soldier, and this was a rescue mission.

“This seemed like as g-good a place as any,” you choked on a weak laugh. “Beats dying in the middle of a h-hallway, I guess.”

Bucky’s automatic response was to swear that you’d make it out. To promise that you weren’t going to die. But he bit his tongue. He couldn’t make those kinds of assurances. He’d do anything to bring you comfort but swearing that you’d return home alive seemed almost cruel.

He pushed himself to move faster. He couldn’t let you die alone, especially not in this godforsaken place. As he sprinted up the last flight of stairs and ripped open the door to the fifteenth floor, he struggled to orient himself. You were in the northeast quadrant, but where was he? He searched for anything to indicate his location- but found no signage. No directory.

Everything inside of him rattled with dread, with anxiety. Any moment now, you were going to die. You were going to take your last breath. All alone. A thick, suffocating wave of panic crashed over Bucky as he realized- you were going to die disappointed. You were going to leave this world knowing that he hadn’t gotten to you in time.

It was then that he noticed a faded arrow painted on the wall, with “NEQ” painted below it in block letters. Northeast quadrant. He was closer than he thought.

“I’m gonna be there in just a second, doll,” he said as he followed the arrows. “I think I’m right around the corner.”

This was just his way of making you feel better, you were sure of it. The hallways were long and winding. Each floor was a maze of its own. Even with your vague instructions, it could take him a while to find you. Still, Bucky’s words brought you comfort in the way that only he could.

“I know, I t-trust…” A metallic taste filled your mouth. A warm ooze trickled down your chin and dripped onto your chest. The warm, fuzzy feeling brought on by Bucky’s assurances faded. Of course, you knew you were in bad shape. But as blood leaked from your mouth, you wondered if these were your last moments.

Instantly, you searched for the words to say goodbye to Bucky. Time was slipping through your fingers, life draining from your body with each passing second. But before you drifted off into a never-ending sleep, you had to tell Bucky what he meant to you. You’d use all your strength, your last few breaths- whatever it took. He just had to know.

But how does one say goodbye to a soulmate? You didn’t have the energy or capacity to make a grandiose speech. And the blood filling your mouth impeded your ability to speak. You wanted to tell bucky everything- how he comforted you, cared for you, made your life worth living. How your life revolved around him as though he were your personal sun. But nothing quite encapsulated the things you felt for him. Every word in the English language, every sonnet fell short. And the lack of oxygen getting to your brain sabotaged your phrasing.

“Buck, I think it’s… I think it’s almost t-time,” you rasped.

But just as you opened your blood-stained mouth to proclaim every feeling you ever had for him, the door flew open. Alarm coursed through your veins at the threat. Surely, a Hydra agent had stumbled upon your hiding place and was here to finish you off. The severe blood loss was no match for your training, thought. And, on instinct, you pulled your gun on the tall, dark silhouette standing in the doorway.

“Woah, hey!” Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “It’s me, it’s just me.”

At the sound of his voice, your arm fell limp. Your gun clattered to the floor. Your head lolled back against the wall. It had taken everything in you to try and protect yourself one last time. And now that your energy reserves were nearly depleted, you allowed your eyes to close.

“S-sorry…” A barely-there smile pulled at your lips. “My… my bad, Buck.”

“No, don’t be sorry, doll.”

Bucky knelt in front of you, taking in your broken, bloodied body. He’d seen carnage before, witnessed more death than anyone should. But this, you- it was different. It hurt in places he didn’t know he had. But he didn’t let it show. Knowing you, you’d spend your last few moments comforting him, trying to make him feel better. And so, he forced a warm smile and tabled his breakdown for the moment.

“I’m actually impressed. I mean, you might be hurt, but you were ready to take me out just now,” he forced a chuckle. “That’s my girl.” His cool metallic hand brushed against your blood-stained cheek.

And in that moment, something within you changed. Your eyes shot open. You blinked a few times before forcing your eyes shut once again. You gave your head a few good shakes. Surely, this wasn’t real- it couldn’t be.

You opened your eyes wide once again, taking him in. “Bucky?”

With one shaking hand, you reached for him in the most pathetic attempt he’d ever seen. You were weak, dangerously so; it scared him to his core. But you were alive.

He leaned in, meeting you in the middle, and let you stroke at his stubble for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he kissed your palm. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“You’re…” you other hand reached for him, but made it only a centimeter or two before falling into your lap. Bucky opted to take it in his. “You’re here?”

He nodded, “I could never leave you behind, sweetheart.”

He may have continued speaking after that, but you didn’t quite hear him. The emotion you’d tried so hard to swallow came bursting forward, crushing your every attempt at remaining levelheaded. Your fingers smoothed over Bucky’s cheek again and again. His name fell from your lips in what resembled a prayer. Tears rolled down your cheeks and mixed with the blood crusting over your skin.

A soft, warm wave of peace rolled in, covering you like a well-loved quilt. The pain disappeared; the sorrow evaporated. All that remained was Bucky. This was the warm spring that followed a dark, bitter winter. The first rays of sun after a vicious storm. The first taste of home after a long time away. You let the familiar warmth of Bucky’s presence drown out the rest of the world until only you two remained.

“Sweetheart, did you hear me?” With a gentle squeeze of your hand, Bucky called you back to the present. “I need to look at your wound, okay?”

A sharp rush of pain nearly blinded you as you lifted your shirt, exposing the bloody mess. But even as Bucky appraised the gunshot wound that turned your abdomen into horror scene, you couldn’t find it in you to worry. Your hands lazily found his shoulder, his chest, his face; you just wanted to touch him. To know, without a doubt, that he was there. That he was real.

“Hey, we… we need to t-talk,” you whispered as Bucky did his best to quickly bandage your wound for transport. “I n-need to talk- to talk to you…”

Bucky nodded, “sure thing, doll. Absolutely. We can talk about whatever you want. But right now…” he returned your shirt to its rightful position and met your gaze. “Right now, I need to get you out to the jet, okay? We can talk later.”

He guided your arms around his neck, lifted you into his arms, and moved as fast as he could through the winding hallways. His quick gait set your nerves alight with pain. Every bump, every jostle had you gasping for breath. And though it was a necessary evil, the guilt still sat in Bucky’s stomach like a rock. His repeated ‘I’m sorrys’ were nearly constant, doubling with your every grimace and groan. But he couldn’t slow down, couldn’t let the time slip away; you didn’t have much left.

Between pained sounds and twisted expressions of discomfort, you said the same thing on a loop. Again and again and again, you pled with him, using energy you didn’t have.

“We need to… to t-talk.”

“I h-have to tell you.”

“Can I talk to y-you about- about something?”

And though Bucky would’ve loved nothing more than to have a long heart to heart with you as you two often did, you weren’t strong enough. He couldn’t let you waste your finite energy on a conversation with him. And so, he responded to each of your requests with an ask of his own, begging you to save your strength. He promised that the two of you could talk tomorrow, that there was plenty of time for a conversation later.

But ‘plenty of time’ almost seemed like an empty promise. And ‘tomorrow’ felt like a lie. Would you have a ‘later’? He didn’t know. But he didn’t want you wasting your oxygen, not when he feared it might be your last breath.

Boarding the jet with you alive in his arms almost felt like a win to Bucky. Almost. Sure, he’d gotten you out with your heart still beating, but your condition worsened by the second. And the grave looks the med team wore as Bucky gently rested you on the treatment table dug a deep pit in his stomach.

They sprang into action, placing IVs and delivering medications. Scissors glided through your shirt and exposed your broken body to the med team. Bucky knew they’d seen their share of gnarly injuries over the years, but he swore that they recoiled at the sight of your wounds.

With a shake of his head, Bucky refocused. He had to get you out of there- to get you home. He headed for the controls and planned to set the jet in motion. But he made it only a step toward the cockpit before a hand caught his.

“S-stay…” you whispered. “Please.”

His heart shattered. “I’m not leaving you, doll, I promise. I just have to get us in the air, okay?” With great care, he placed a kiss to your hand and set it at your side. “I’ll be back in just a minute.”

Bucky’s body operated on muscle memory alone as he initiated take off. His mind was occupied, completely and totally, by the sound of your weak voice begging him not to leave. The sound played on a loop inside his brain, cutting him deeper each time. You’d already been abandoned once today; he was certain you feared it would happen again.

With a deep breath and a quick reset, Bucky did what he had to do. He needed to be on his A-game for you, needed to be his very best. Only a few hours ago, you’d trusted someone with your life, and they failed you. Bucky wasn’t about to do the same. He worked carefully to chart the fastest route back to the compound, opting to forego FRIDAY’s proposed path. It kept him from your side longer than he would’ve liked, but less time in the air seemed like the best option. The sooner he could get you to the med bay, with its massive, brilliant medical staff and unlimited resources, the better.

Just as he finalized the flight plan and asked FRIDAY to notify the med bay of your impending arrival, an unsettling sound pulled his focus. It was an ominous beeping, alarming your care team of a sudden, life-threatening change.

Gloved hands moved at lightning speed; voices yelled medical jargon back and forth. And you laid there on the table. No heartbeat. No respirations. Deathly still.

Bucky stood on the periphery, too horrified to get any closer.

He thought it best, of course, to stay out the med team’s way. But knew deep down it was an excuse. He was simply too terrified to lose you. If he got closer, if he saw you struggling to stay alive, all of this would suddenly become real. And he couldn’t handle that.

“Barnes!” A nurse screamed at him, “did you hear me?”

Bucky forced himself back to the present. “No… I, um-”

“She has no pulse- get over here, we need you to do compressions!”

Bucky’s desperate need to help you, to save you, overpowered his fear. And in an instant, he was at your side. He loomed over you, his hands locked together, preparing to help resuscitate you. But once again, his fear reared its ugly head. You were already so badly injured, so weak. And he was far too strong. What if he made your condition worse? What if he-

“Come on!” The nurse yelled at him, “start compressions- now!”

He did as he was told. He pressed into your body with a measured pressure, careful not to crush your chest. But his cautious compressions didn’t cut it. The nurses instructed him to push harder. To “actually compress” your chest- and Bucky followed instructions.

But as he did so, a sickly snapping sound exploded from your body. Bucky recoiled instantly; his face contorted in horror.

“What are you doing? Keep going!”

“I can’t- I think I broke her ribs,” Bucky shouted at the doctor. “What do I do?”

“Keep going!” The nurse yelled, “It happens- just keep going.”

Bucky broke out into a cold sweat. His stomach turned at the thought of hurting you, of causing you even more pain; you’d been through enough as it was. But he did as he was told. With each round of compressions, he swore he created new fractures. He felt every splinter, every crack as he put pressure on your chest.

He wanted to sever every last nerve-ending in his hand; anything to rid him of the sickening sensation creeping through his palm. But if doing this saved you, it was worth the nightmares.

He watched as the two nurses provided your supplemental breaths and tended to your endlessly bleeding wound. The doctor called ‘clear’ every so often, shocking you with a defibrillator in an attempt to restore your heartbeat.

Round after round of compressions, breathing, and shocks passed by without signs of improvement. You remained lifeless, unresponsive. A syringe of epinephrine delivered straight to your chest did nothing. And Bucky felt what little hope he had slipping through the cracks in your ribs. He couldn’t believe he was about to lose you; couldn’t believe he’d have to watch you die. Hot tears blurred his vision and streaked down his cheeks. His legs went numb. At any second, he knew his knees would give out, knew he’d crumble to the floor under the crushing weight of grief.

The doctor deemed the next shock your last, and Bucky almost doubled over.

“Come on, doll, just-” He swallowed a sob, “just stay. Stay. Do it for me, I’m begging you. Please?”

The doctor called one last “clear” and delivered your final shock, only to be met with the rhythmic beeping of your heart monitor.

“Sinus rhythm restored,” announced the nurse to Bucky’s left. She appraised the waves on your EKG and gave a nod. “She’s stable.”

After what felt like an eternity, Bucky took a breath. He stretched his tense fingers and did his best to relax the rock-hard knots forming in his shoulders. A new crop of hope bloomed cautiously inside his chest, but he couldn’t allow it to blossom and flourish just yet. You weren’t out of the woods; there was a very real possibility that your heart might stop again. And he wasn’t sure how many times the doctor could revive you before throwing in the towel.

Less than a minute after Bucky’s cautious optimism sprouted anew, a soul crushing sight dashed it completely. A sharp gasp filled his lungs, a shudder rocked his frame. Shades of deep, dark blue bloomed under the skin of your chest. Black and purple splotches stained your sternum. Some spots were already starting to swell. He extended a hand in your direction but recoiled in an instant, fearing he’d hurt you yet again.

“Happens all the time,” one of the nurses said with a shrug. “Believe me, broken ribs are the least of her worries.”

Somehow, her words didn’t make him feel any better. He ached to hold your hand, to sweep a gentle caress across your cheek. But he didn’t dare touch you after what he did. Every glimpse of your bruised, swollen chest sent bile rushing into his throat.

The three dedicated members of the med team worked tirelessly for the rest of the flight. They did everything in their power to keep your condition steady, to maintain the life they worked so hard to save. It brought Bucky comfort to see them staying so close, ready to jump into action if need be.

Bucky, like the med team, hovered. He couldn’t bring himself to leave your side. You seemed too fragile, your condition too tenuous. He counted your every breath, took stock of every beat of your heart on the monitor. Stepping away for even a second felt wrong. He needed to be there if you crashed again, if the doctor needed extra hands. He needed to be there to help.

And if you woke up, he wanted to be the first face you saw.

But you didn’t wake. A groan here, a muscle twitch there- that was all you could spare. And though Bucky wanted nothing more than to see you open your eyes, he thanked the universe for keeping you unconscious. He knew tsunamis of pain rippled in the wings, waiting to overtake you the second you woke.

Bucky held his breath as the jet landed. Every jarring bump, every vibration, forced his heart into his throat. He feared that even the slightest impact would send you into cardiac arrest. He flicked his eyes from the rising and falling of your chest to the rhythmic flashing of your heart monitor and back again. Nothing changed, no alarms sounded. And when the jet finally stilled, Bucky breathed a deep sigh of relief. He just needed to get you to the med bay for treatment, and this whole nightmare would be over.

He didn’t like being optimistic. It felt like a set-up, like false hope. If he told himself you’d survive and you didn’t, the fall would be that much harder, that much more devastating.

But being realistic wasn’t any better. Telling himself that you were too far gone, that you weren’t going to make it, felt wrong. To him, it seemed like he was cursing you. Like willing your death into existence. Like begging the universe to end your life.

And so, he opted for a neutral mantra. “She’s home,” he told himself. “She’s home. She’s home. She’s home.”

The distance to the medbay felt longer than usual. The hallways seemed to stretch on forever, the double doors to the triage center seemed to grow farther and farther away. Bucky followed your gurney closely, only allowing a few inches of space between the two of you. He couldn’t be separated from you again. He wouldn’t. He needed to be with you every second, watching over you.

A dark cloud of impending doom loomed over his psyche. It whispered to him, telling him that if he left your side, if he let you out of his sight, you’d die. You’d be gone forever. And it would be his fault. He knew it was nonsense, that this was just his anxiety operating on overdrive. But he couldn’t shake the fear. And risking it wasn’t an option.

“No visitors past this point,” a security guard placed an arm in front of Bucky as he tried to enter the triage unit.

Bucky tried to go around the man, watching as the medical staff carried you farther out of reach. “I’m not a visitor, I’m an agent-”

“No agents past this point, then,” the guard rolled his eyes. “Only patients and medical staff. You can have a seat over there.”

A small table sat against the wall, flanked by two chairs. It was a sad, makeshift excuse for a waiting room that operated as a device to keep people from hanging around. But bucky couldn’t be discouraged. He took a seat in one of the chairs, determined to wait there as long as he had to. He knew he’d missed a number of important phone calls by now, and probably several meetings. But he didn’t care; all that mattered was you.

Dread circled Bucky like a buzzard as he waited. It was taking too long- why was it taking so long? How much time did the medical staff need? You were stable when the jet landed, the nurse said so. Why were there no updates? All Bucky needed was a nod, a bit of information. But he remained in the dark, wondering if you died on the operating table.

Maria found Bucky slumped in a chair with a zombie-like air about him. He was expressionless, his gaze hollow. His palms traced the same track up and down his thighs in a never-ending cycle. One look and she knew: something was very wrong.

“Hey,” she called softly, hoping not to startle him.

But Bucky didn’t respond- he didn’t even react. He just sat there, his unblinking stare burning a hole in the tile. An uneasiness enveloped Maria. She’d never seen Bucky so empty, so despondent. As she stared at him, she found herself fearing the worst. ‘Maybe he just received terrible news’ she thought. ‘Maybe he’s grieving’.

“Hey,” she tried again, nudging her foot against his.

He came back to life with a start. A sharp inhale filled his chest, his eyes blinked wildly. But his palms never stopped moving in their endless cycle against his tactical pants. And he never actually looked at her.

“Hi…” he breathed.

Hill took the seat opposite him. She conjured the gentlest, warmest tone she could find, “is everything okay?”

Bucky balled his hands into tight fists and stretched them out again. Maria noticed blood- your blood- crusting under his fingernails and staining his skin. But before she could get a good look, he grabbed the arms of the chair. His palms rubbed fervently against the plastic handles for a moment until they moved to his face. He ran his hands along his jaw, his spiky stubble poking into his skin.

“Barnes, what happened? Are you-”

Finally, his head snapped in her direction, “I can still feel it…”

“Feel what?”

Bucky’s head fell into his hands. He pressed his palms against his eyes and dragged them down his face. Maria watched him fall apart in slow motion. He seemed to be unraveling, one cell at a time. And when he finally spoke, shame made his words almost unintelligible.

“She crashed on the jet…”

“Oh...” Maria did her best to keep a calm, even tone. Her concern for you vibrated in her chest, but she didn’t dare let it free- not when Bucky was moments away from a meltdown. “Is she-”

“The med team needed help. There weren’t enough of them- they needed me to do chest compressions,” Bucky said, his voice low. “And I broke- I crushed her ribs.”

A sharp shudder rocked his entire body. Just thinking of that moment, when his too-strong hands destroyed your chest, was enough to make him sick. To scar him for life. To haunt him. Of all the horrible things he’d done in over the years, this was the worst. He gave his hands a quick shake, hoping to rid his nerve endings of the sensation.

“I felt her bones snapping under my hands,” Bucky’s words dripped with shame. “And I can still… I still feel it.”

“Okay,” Maria said gently. “Well, if she-”

“She was already in such bad shape,” Bucky swiped a tear from his cheek. “And I… I hurt her. I made it so much worse.”

His head fell into his hands once again and did not reemerge.

“Hey, look at me,” Maria gave his arm a gentle touch.

Bucky only shook his head.

“Come on, Barnes, just look at me for a second.”

Again, he refused.

Maria abandoned her chair and sat instead on the small table. She never got this close to Bucky. Usually, she preferred to give him his space. He wasn’t the touchy-feely type- unless you were around. But he was lost in a shame spiral, adrift with no hope of return. And he needed rescuing. She placed her hands on his and gently removed them from his face.

“You saved her life,” Maria said. “Twice. You rescued her from the base, and when the med team needed help, you came through.”

“But I-”

“Did it work?” Maria asked, her tine almost stern. “Did the chest compressions work?”

Bucky nodded.

Maria gave him a shrug, “That’s all that matters. She can recover from a few broken ribs, but if you hadn’t been there-”

Bucky averted his gaze as his eyes filled with tears.

“Hey,” Maria grabbed his face, bringing his focus back to her. “If you hadn’t been there, she’d be dead.”

Maria’s words fought hard against the demeaning voice that lived inside Bucky’s head. It screamed at him, telling him that he shouldn’t believe her, that he was a monster, that he almost killed you. Usually, Bucky allowed his inner demons to run free. He listened to them without pause, believing anything and everything they told him, no matter how vile. But Maria was steadfast and unshakable in her sentiments; she truly believed what she was saying. And by some miracle, Bucky did, too.

“Thanks…” He granted her a hollow smile and a small nod.

Hill sat in silence with him for a few hours. She didn’t try to make small talk or ask what was going on inside his head. She simply existed near him, sharing the space so that he didn’t have to be alone. She ignored important texts and sent every call to voicemail. She knew it was exactly what you’d do for him, if you were able. And she did her best to fill your shoes.

Abruptly, Bucky’s head snapped in her direction. His pulse thrummed against his skin as a new wave of anxiety crashed over him. “She kept saying…” he sighed. “She kept saying we needed to talk. She wanted to talk to me about something.”

Maria cocked her head to the side, “About what?”

He shrugged. “I told her we could talk later because there would be plenty of time,” Bucky’s words grew shaky. He found himself near tears for what felt like the millionth time that day. Guilt sucker punched him. “What if… what if there isn’t more time for us? What if that was all we were ever going to get? What if-”

“You’ll get more time,” Maria said with certainty. “The universe has a way of evening things out. You were robbed of time once; it won’t happen again. Plus, you’re deserved some fucking karmic retribution- you’re owed this.”

Bucky wondered how she could be that sure of something so ethereal. But she was steady, solid as a rock. She didn’t waver in her words or add caveats at the end. She, somehow, knew it to be true. And Bucky couldn’t help but believe her.

But when Fury called her for the eighth time, she knew quiet time was over.

“I have to go, okay? Fury can’t do anything without me, he’s hopeless.” She stood from her seat and rested a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Call if you need anything.”

Bucky thanked her a million times over and, for the first time, gave Maria a hug. She would never know how much her reassurances helped him. She’d pulled him from the ledge and gave him what he desperately needed: perspective.

In the hours that followed, he let her words play on a constant loop inside his mind. “If you hadn’t been there, she’d be dead,” he heard her say. “You’ll get more time.” The sickening feeling of your bones snapping under his strength never faded, and the fear of losing you still had him in a chokehold, but Maria’s words quieted his mind.

In the sad, empty waiting room, time seemed to mutate. Some of the hours dragged, others whizzed by. Bucky wasn’t sure how long he’d been there. Was it ten hours? Or twenty? He didn’t really care. He’d wait lifetimes for you.

He saw the security guards change shifts once, twice. It was the only thing alerting him to the passage of time, as part of him believed it was standing still. On the third shift change, they told him to go home.

“They’ll call you if there’s an update”, said one of the guards. “It’d probably be a good idea for you to go get some sleep, or something.”

Bucky knew he looked like hell. Your blood left crimson streaks across his face and neck. And the dark circles he usually wore under his eyes were a deep shade of plum. But he couldn’t leave, he couldn’t sleep. Not when your life hung in the balance. Not when you needed him.

A few more hours passed with no news, and Bucky found himself teetering on the edge of insanity. An angry, desperate voice bellowed inside his head. It told him to bust through the doors and find you, no matter what it took- even if it meant hurting people in the process. The gun secured to his hip and the knife strapped to his ankle became eerily attractive. His hands itched to reach for the weapons, to hold someone at gun point until they allowed him to see you. But he couldn’t to give in to the fear, to the violence. It took him years of therapy and long talks with you to stop seeing himself as a monster- and he refused to destroy the progress you helped him make.

A doctor stepped out of the double doors and looked in Bucky’s direction, “Sergeant Barnes?”

Bucky was on his feet before he knew what hit him. This was it. After what felt like an eternity of not knowing whether you lived or died, he was about to have an answer. Sweat dampened his palm, his brow as he stood in front of your doctor.

He didn’t know he was even capable of this kind of fear, this kind of agony. And though he was an impossibly strong physical specimen, Bucky knew he’d never be able to lift the weight of the grief that followed your loss. He knew that, if you died, he’d spend the rest of his life dragging himself from place to place, unable to stand, unable to push back against the overwhelming, oppressive force of losing you.

Your doctor spoke quickly and professionally about your condition, but the words turned to mush the second they reached Bucky’s brain. The combination of medical jargon and pure panic made their meanings imperceptible. But one phrase managed to cut through the fog of Bucky’s anxiety and exhaustion: “you can see her now.”

And just like that, Bucky took off. His fatigued body did its best to carry him through the halls, stumbling every now and then on the smooth tile of the hospital floors. But he didn’t dare slow down. He had to get to you.

By the time he reached the door to your room, he found himself shaking- almost shivering- with anxiety. He knew you were alive, of course. Knew that the doctors had been successful in saving your life. But something in him doubted their handiwork. Something in him swore that if he didn’t get to you in the next half second, you’d flatline. Again.

He could practically feel his brain rattling around inside his skull, his teeth chattered against one another. And the sharp tremors in his hands made it nearly impossible to get a grip on the door handle. Panic and frustration coursed through him as the he tried again and again to gain entry to your room with no luck. A strangled sob forced its way out of his chest and caught the attention of a nurse- one of the nurses who helped keep you alive on the jet.

“Hey…” Her eyes drifted to Bucky’s shaking hands. “Need some help?” Before Bucky could answer, she’d abandoned the medication she was prepping, discarded her gloves, and made her way to his side.

“Here, let me.” Her soft, sympathetic tone was almost too kind; Bucky’s eyes blurred with tears. She turned the door handle and gestured for Bucky to go inside.

His “thank you” was for more than just the door.

Bucky took a few steps inside and drew in a sharp breath; he’d never seen you in such severe condition. Over the many hours that Bucky waited for you outside, all of your bruises grew darker, more menacing. They stained your throat, your face, your arms. He didn’t even want to think about the ones on your chest- the ones he caused. Dried blood crusted in your hair and formed a path down the side of your face. It sat caked under your fingernails and rested in the creases of your palms. Thankfully, your gunshot wound was covered by gauze and concealed by your gown. But knowing it was there was enough to make Bucky sick. He, of course, witnessed and inflicted, his fair share of carnage over the years. But he knew your wound would haunt him for years to come- simply because it was yours.

All he wanted was to be near you. To sit at your bedside and hold your hand. But he didn’t dare to get any closer. Electrodes attached a dozen wires to your chest. IVs sat lodged in the crooks of your elbows, in the backs of your hands. Machines and monitors kept track of your vitals. And who was he to disturb this fragile, vital ecosystem? What if he accidentally pulled out one of your IVs? What if he detached a wire by mistake? He’d already hurt you once today, he wasn’t about to do it again.

He, instead, opted to stand at attention. A few feet away. For your safety. He didn’t touch you, didn’t even say your name. He simply stared at you, counting your every breath.

An hour- or maybe two- passed by with him like this. Nurses checked on you, doctors poked their heads in. And every time, they told him he was permitted to sit by your bedside. But he just shook his head. Sure, slipping his hand into yours, being close to you- it would provide him with incomprehensible comfort. But he couldn’t, not when you were so severely injured.

After the third hour, Bucky feared his sanity was slipping. A wicked voice lodged deep in his psyche suddenly awakened. It whispered to him, taunted him. Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe he was asleep in the waiting room. Maybe you didn’t survive. Maybe…

And he would’ve believed it, had you not snapped him out of the vicious spiral.

“Buck?” He feared he’d never hear you voice again, but there it was. Hoarse and weak- but yours.

Bucky flew to your side. He cradled your face gingerly in his hands, completely consumed by the need to touch you, to feel you, to know that you were real. His palms laid flush against your cheeks, his thumbs sweeping over your skin. And in an instant, the sickly sensation of your snapping bones vanished.

A hurricane of tangled thoughts and emotions crashed over him. He had so much to he wanted to say, so much he wanted to confess to you. But the words refused to arrange themselves properly. Suddenly, Bucky wished he’d used his ample time in the waiting room to better organize his thoughts. He wished he’d sought out a pen and a scrap of paper and used them to plan and articulate his sentiment. But even if he’d found the supplies he needed, he wouldn’t have been able to jot a single thing down. Not with his shaking, unsteady hands.

Anxious words and broken sobs got stuck in his throat and formed a garbled, unintelligible mess as they left his mouth. But it was the best he could do. He stared at you, waiting for your response.

“I, um…” you looked at him for a long moment. The haze of head trauma, blood loss, and pain killers made you foggy. You did your best to trace your steps back through Bucky’s words, certain that your condition was the cause of your confusion. But after a significant pause, you came up empty. “Sorry, I- what?”

Bucky slid one of his hands into yours and gave a soft laugh. “Sorry. I tried to say-” He sat quiet for a moment. What had he tried to say, exactly? He wasn’t sure. With a small shake of his head, he re-rerouted. “Um, it doesn’t matter. Here, how’s this:” He cleared his throat and spoke with the sharpest pronunciation possible. “How are you feeling?”

Your laugh- Bucky’s favorite laugh- bubbled up to the surface. But regret swallowed you whole as pain shot through your head, your chest, your side. The hurt radiated through your entire being. It rendered you breathless, and left your face twisted in an agonized grimace.

Bucky didn’t like how long it took you to recover from the small chuckle you shot his way. A pang of worry shot through him. “Don’t exert yourself, okay?” He swept a thumb across your cheek, “you don’t wanna tear your stitches or...” He cleared his throat, “aggravate any, um, broken bones.” Bones that he broke.

“No, I’m…” you squeezed your eyes shut for a long moment before opening them again. The pain slowly receded. “I’m good, I’m okay. I just- breathing is hard. I forgot how shitty it feels to have broken ribs.”

Bucky nodded. His teeth sunk into the smooth flesh of his cheek. A metallic taste coated his mouth. He didn’t want to tell you the truth. Didn’t want you to know that he was the cause of your severe pain. But you deserved to know, didn’t you? With a deep sigh, he opened his mouth, intent on telling you what really happened. But you cut him off.

“Thank you, Buck. For coming to get me. I really thought I was…” Hot tears stung your eyes and blurred your vision. “I thought that was it for me, you know? And I just want you to know how-” you sniffed, “how grateful I am.”

Bucky left your side for only a second, retrieving a box of tissues from the counter across the room. He was back in no time and swept a tissue across your cheek to catch your tears.

“I know we always say that we have each other’s backs but you… you meant it,” you said. A small smile pulled at your lips, “thank you for meaning it.”

Bucky nodded. He did his best to keep his breathing steady, to stop himself from falling apart at the seams. He knew exactly what it felt like to be left behind, to wait for your last moments- alone.

“I wasn’t gonna leave you there, doll. I couldn’t.”

You gave a small nod. “Yeah, I- I wish my partner had felt the same way…” The hurt in your voice was unmistakable. It sliced though Bucky’s chest. “I didn’t think he would ever do something like that. I mean, I thought we were friends.”

The mere thought of Jake brought a familiar rage to the forefront of Bucky’s mind. He didn’t understand how anyone could be so callous, so uncaring- so indifferent to the well-being of others. The part of him that swore off unnecessary violence remained quiet as the rest of him imagined Jake’s demise. He wanted your disloyal partner to suffer. To squirm and squeal and regret that he ever left you behind. But that could wait- you were the priority.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect him to be that kind of person,” Bucky sighed, “he seemed like a stand-up guy.”

Silence filled the room as you thought over Jake’s desertion. His abandonment hurt. It stung in places you didn’t expect. You’d taken Jake under your wing and did everything in your power to be the best leader possible. All you wanted was to help him. To set him up for success.

And after working alongside Bucky for so long, you’d forgotten that disloyalty to one’s partner was even an option.

“He probably panicked,” you tried to rationalize. “And then once he realized what he’d done, maybe he…”

There was no rationalizing this.

An ugly realization slithered into your mind. “After he left, I think he probably hoped I’d just die… that way I wouldn’t be able to give my side of the story.” The weight of Jake’s actions hit you like a train. Rivulets of warm tears rolled down your cheeks, only to be swept away by Bucky’s gentle hand. With a small shake of your head, you did your best to banish the feelings of abandonment and betrayal. Wallowing would only make you more miserable. And you didn’t need emotional pain on top of the physical agony that already plagued you.

“Well, joke’s on him,” you shrugged, “cause I’m still alive.” Pain radiated through your chest, bringing a grimace to your face. “Kind of.”

Bucky didn’t understand how you could just dismiss the bad feelings. Couldn’t understand your propensity for levity. Your partner left you for dead without a second thought- and yet, you found a way to joke about it. It was something he’d always admired about you, something he wished he was capable of.

You gave a strained laugh, “I can’t wait to see the look on Jake’s face when he finds out that I didn’t die.”

Bucky wasn’t sure what prompted him to say it. It left his mouth without his brain’s authorization.

“But you did.”

He wished to take the words back, but it was too late. They hung in the air, just out of his reach.

“I…” you struggled to grasp Bucky’s words. “I what?”

This was not the time- or the place, or the way- to tell you the truth. But he didn’t have a choice. His clumsy words made his bed, and now he had to lie in it.

“You, um…” Bucky didn’t want to think about what happened, let alone say it out loud. But he owed it to you to be honest. Especially after Jake had lied to you about being a trustworthy partner. Bucky scratched at the stubble on his face, ran a hand through his hair. Anything to delay the inevitable. But he couldn’t put it off for long. “Your heart stopped- you died. On the jet.”

Only one word fell from your lips, “Oh…”

“And while I’m at it, I might as well tell you that…” Bucky took a deep inhale. He was in too deep now. And keeping this from you any longer felt like lying. “That your ribs are broken because of me.”

A quizzical look crossed your face, “what do you mean?”

“I mean… the med team was short staffed on the jet. There were only three of them. And when you crashed, it was- it was an all hands on deck situation.” He flashed back to the moment when the alarms sounded. When your EKG flatlined. A shudder ran through him. “They needed me to do chest compressions. And I- I didn’t want to hurt you, but the nurse said I wasn’t pushing hard enough to actually help you. And when I pushed harder- I broke your ribs.”

Bucky searched your face for something- anything. Anger. Fear. Betrayal. But he found nothing. Your expression was as neutral as they come. He feared that something lingered just below the surface. That once you fully processed his words, you’d erupt into a perfect storm of disgust and disappointment.

He told himself to wait silently until you made up your mind. But the outburst exploded from his lips before he could stop it. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You know I’d never want to hurt you, I would never do anything to hurt you. But I… they told me I had to push harder. Or it wasn’t going to work. And I just wanted it to work, I wanted you to be okay, and-”

It took almost all of your strength to raise your hand and place a finger to Bucky’s lips. He fell silent.

“Buck, it’s okay.”

He tried to form a rebuttal, but you cut him off.

“You didn’t have to rescue me, but you did. No questions asked, no hesitation. You saved my life by getting me out of there. And you saved me again by helping the med team.” Your hand drifted from Bucky’s face and landed in his palm. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Bucky didn’t say anything else. His fingers traced gentle patterns on your palm. His eyes fell downward. You could almost see the shame eating him alive from the inside.

“Hey,” you intertwined your fingers with his. “I can handle a few broken ribs.”

“No, I- I know you can. I just…” A sad smiled flickered across his lips. “I feel terrible. You went through a lot. And I just don’t like knowing I made it worse.”

A long silence filled the room. You’d seen this side of Bucky more times than you could count. And you knew him well enough to know what followed. He was going to feel bad- terrible, actually- about this for a while. There was no accelerating the process or absolving him of his guilt. No amount of reassurances could save him from it. He just had to sit with it. One day, the weight would diminish. But it was going to take time. And that was okay.

You gave his hand a squeeze. “I thought your voice was a hallucination, you know.”

Bucky lifted his head.

“And when you came into the room, I actually thought that was a hallucination, too.” A smile stretched across your face, “I mean, I thought I was losing my mind.”

Bucky gave a half-hearted chuckle. He didn’t want to think about you in that room by yourself. About you struggling to tell what was real.

“But then you touched me…” You raised your hand and brushed it across your cheek, mimicking him. “And that’s when I realized that you were real- that you were there.” You fell quiet for a moment, lost in the memory of Bucky’s rescue. “It was like, in that moment, I wasn’t scared anymore. I wasn’t scared of the pain. I wasn’t scared of dying. I was just scared that…”

“What?”

“You have to promise not to laugh,” you told him with an authoritative tone. “Cause I know it’s corny, or cheesy, or whatever.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky drew an X over his heart. “I’m not gonna laugh at you.”

You stared at him with narrowed eyes, sizing up his promise. But, of course, you knew Bucky would never tease or ridicule you about something like this.

“Okay, fine, I um… I was scared that I’d never see you again. If I died, I mean.”

Bucky’s lungs emptied. He couldn’t remember how to breathe, how to speak. A sudden ache ripped through his heart as it splintered and shattered into a million pieces. To know that you thought of him in what you believed were your last moments somehow ripped him apart and put him back together all at once.

Your voice cracked. Tears filled your eyes. “I was afraid that we’d already run out of time. I was afraid that we weren’t going to get any more.” A few soft sobs escaped from your throat, followed by a pained groan. But you pushed passed the throbbing in your chest. “But I was so relieved. Because I got to see you one last time. It was the most intense sense of peace I’ve ever experienced.”

Bucky struggled to hold on to his composure. He felt himself crumbling, weakening under the weight of your words.

“But then I realized- I realized I’d never get to tell you. And you kept saying we could talk later, but I didn’t know if there would be a ‘later’. And when I blacked out, I was so full of…” You shook your head ever so slightly, sending a few tears dripping onto your cheeks. “I had so much regret. Because I needed you to know.”

“To know what?” Bucky leaned in close, searching your face for any inkling, any clue. “Doll, it’s ‘later’. Tell me- whatever it is. You can tell me now, it’s-”

Your lips met his in a soft kiss. In it, everything you’d ever felt for him came rushing forward. Admiration. Longing. Lust. Obsession. Adoration. Love.

A sting of pain jolted through you as your split lip brushed his, but you didn’t care. His hands found your face, your fingers curled into the collar of his shirt. It was always supposed to be this way.

When the two of you finally separated, Bucky simply stared at you. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak. He wasn’t sure he knew how.

“I love you, Buck. I’ve loved you- for so long.” A huff left your chest, “So. Long.”

Still, Bucky remained silent. Nerves began crawling through you like vines, twisting their way through every fiber of your being. But you owed it to yourself, and to Bucky, to tell him the truth.

“And I just… I know how you see yourself. And I know you don’t think you’re even worthy of my friendship, let alone love. But I was so anxious, cause I thought you’d never know the truth. I thought I’d die without getting to tell you. And you’d live the rest of your life thinking that you’re not worthy, that no one could ever love you. But I- I love you. I just needed you to know.”

The silence made your ears ring. Bucky’s face still wore a mask of bewilderment. And you feared you’d ruined everything.

“You don’t have to say it back, though,” you said. “I’m not gonna stop being your friend if this is an unrequited thing.”

Finally, Bucky came back to life. He rolled his eyes and let a scoff escape his lips. He leaned in close, the tip of his nose almost brushing yours. “Unrequited? I broke every SWORD rule and policy. Abducted medical staff. Stole a jet. And went on an unauthorized mission. All to get you back. I didn’t even know if you were alive, I just- I had to bring you home.”

He closed the small gap that remained between your face and his and granted you warm, gentle kiss that tasted like home. “I did all that- and you thought there was even a chance that I didn’t love you back?” Bucky gave a playful roll of his eyes, “you don’t know me at all, sweetheart.”

You returned his eye roll. "Well, you're a really great friend to me. And you always have been. So, I didn’t take a rescue as a proclamation of love,” you gave a strained chuckle. “I just thought-”

“I’ve loved you for…” Bucky thought back over the course of your friendship. The day you first met, the first time you helped him through a panic attack, the time he made you the ugliest cake in the world for your birthday. He saw his life in two parts: before he met you and after he met you. And he so preferred the after.

“I don’t even know how long,” he shrugged. It was almost automatic. His feelings for you didn’t need a slow, gradual build up. They descended upon him all at once, like the world’s most beautiful avalanche. “It’s been a long time- an embarrassing amount of time, probably,” he laughed.

“Oh, so we’re both cowards then,” you shot him a wink. “Too afraid to tell the other how we feel.”

Bucky nodded, “It seems that way…”

“But you weren’t too scared to steal a jet and run into possible gun fire?” you quipped.

“Nope. Didn’t even think about it,” he said matter-of-factly. “I just wanted to find you.”

You’d never experienced a love- a commitment- like that. It sent a rush of warmth into your cheeks and somehow eased the pain plaguing your body. You knew in your heart you would’ve done the same for Bucky without a second thought. But knowing that he was so fiercely determined to bring you home felt almost unbelievable. You had the proof, though, right there in front of you. This man, who you loved, loved you too. And loved you enough to risk his life for you. It wasn’t something you’d ever ask him to do, and you knew you’d never have to. He’d do it without hesitation. Without reservation. He’d walk through fire for you if it meant bringing you home.

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@beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @evangeliamerryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo @juvellian @samanthacookieone @frombkjar @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

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thinkinonsense · 3 months ago

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LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO✿

old!logan howlett x young fem!reader

cw: pure fluff, sad lonely old man, brief mention of possible sa, soft logan

wc: 500+

a/n: this is part two to my 'work song' one-shot. thinkin' about making a hozier mini-series for old logan. if anyone is interested...

part one here

-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-

Your old apartment building was close to the club downtown where Logan would drop customers off every weekend. Some nights on your walk home from work, you would pass him in the parking lot where he sat alone with a lit cigar in his mouth and waited until he needed to take people back home.

The handsome stranger always managed to catch your eye but the two of you never spoke; till the night in the alley.

It was later than usual, almost three am when a group of men approached you. They called after you, harassing you until they caged you in against the brick wall of the club. You couldn't even hear your cries for help over the loud music. When one of the men placed his hand on your hip, the sound of metal rang in your ears, and blood splattered across your upper body and abdomen.

The blood belonged to the man who touched you. His friends scattered and that's when you saw Logan standing there. His claws hid back into his hands as you ran into his arms.

"Are you alright?" He bent down to ask.

"Y-Yes, Thank you." Your voice trembled as you cried into his suit. Believe it or not, you had seen crazier things than a man with claws.

Logan was confused by your kindness. He has just killed a man in front of you; both of you are still covered in blood. You didn't even ask where he came from or how he knew you were in trouble. None of that mattered though, when you offered him into your apartment to clean him up.

"I um, I shouldn't" Logan hesitated in your doorway.

"Please, allow me to help." You begged with pouty lips and wide eyes that he couldn't say no. He waited on your couch while you grabbed a wet towel and bandages.

"You first." He said, taking the rag from your hands.

You nod then give him room to run the towel down your neck and collarbones. His huge hand lifts the bottom of your shirt to get the blood underneath. All you could do was watch him take care of you.

When he finished, you sat closer to him than he expected. The scars around his knuckles weren't pretty but you took your time cleaning off any dried blood, kissing each knuckle softly before wrapping them up.

"You're good at this," Logan muttered.

"My mother was a nurse." You smile at him.

Logan already thought you were beautiful but now he stared at you like you had just hung the moon with your own two hands.

You spoke the same secret language to each other, and neither of you questioned how he managed to pull you from the earth. Logan thought you deserved a real explanation though.

"I heard you behind the-"

"Shh..." You cut him off. "Doesn't matter."

In the close proximity, he could see the longing in your eyes and before he could stop himself, he leaned forward to kiss you. It was quick and innocent, more of a thank you Logan thought; but the second you tasted him, you couldn't stop.

He knew not to get attached. After tomorrow, you wouldn't want some old pathetic man like him. Logan had to savor this moment though.

"Stay." You whispered.

"I appreciate everything but I should get-"

"Please, I want you to stay."

And so he did.

The two of you lay on the couch and talked for hours. Logan kept telling himself that when you fell asleep, he would quietly leave. That was before you crawled on top of him and decided to rest there for the evening. You felt safe here with Logan. He looked down at you as you slept on top of him then down at his bandaged hands. For the first time in a long time, he felt cared for.

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literaryavenger · 6 months ago

Text

You Were My Sunshine

Summary: Once a year you disappear for a whole day. Nobody knows where you go or what you do, but the team has learned to let you have your privacy. This year though, Bucky's curiosity gets the better of him and he follows you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death. Grief. Some angst. Fluff. No mentions of Y/N.

Word Count: 3K

A/N: I realize this is a little heavy and you absolutely don't need to read it. This one's mostly for me, but I thought why not post it and let Bucky comfort other people, if you need it. As always, my inbox is always open if you want to even just chat. I hope someone likes this. Also, I promise the requests are coming, a little slowly but they're coming. I'm on vacation for two weeks so I'll spend the time writing, probably.

Masterlist

“Have a good day.” Steve calls after you as you pass the kitchen.

You stop in front of the door to smile at Steve and wave at the team as they all have breakfast together before you keep making your way to the elevator that will take you to the parking garage.

“So, we’re really just accepting this?” Bucky asks the team when the elevators close behind you and he’s sure you can’t hear him.

“Yes, Buck.” Steve says firmly.

“But-” Bucky’s protests are cut off by Tony.

“She’s entitled to her privacy.” He says firmly. “Just let it go, Frosty.”

Bucky ignores the nickname and looks around the team, searching for anyone that might have his back, but nobody else seems to be too invested in your day. Bucky gets up with a huff and makes his way to the training room, resigned that he has to let you be.

You’ve always been an open person, you’re always there for everybody that needs you and you’re not afraid to talk about anything with anybody.

Your life is an open book.

Which is precisely why it drives Bucky crazy that, once a year, you disappear for an entire day and nobody knows where you go or what you do.

You disable all your communication devices, the tracking in your car and you don’t use credit cards anywhere.

It’s like you cease to exist for a day, leaving no trace that you were anywhere.

At least that’s how the team sees it.

They’ve all tried to figure out where you go, but that’s the only subject that you never talk about and, every time anyone asks you about it, your answer is always the same:

Don’t worry about it.

After so many years, the whole team has decided to listen to you and stopped worrying about it.

Everyone except Bucky.

It’s not like you’re that close with him, but he considers you his friend and he trusts you, so it irks him that you have this huge secret that nobody knows anything about.

Needless to say, he worries about it a lot.

That’s why right now he finds himself tip toeing down to the garage. He sees you get into your car and drive away and, without even thinking about it, he jumps on his bike and follows you.

He knows this is wrong, he knows he shouldn’t follow you, that you’re allowed to have your secrets. But he can’t help himself when it comes to you. You make him lose control, you make him go insane.

He just needs you. to know.

So he follows you, as discreetly as only a trained assassin knows how. He follows you into the city and stops a few cars away when you park in front of a secondhand bookstore. Bucky knows that shop all too well, it’s one of his favorite places to visit when he’s in the city.

He waits until you disappear behind a shelf before going in, watching you as you browse the books. It looks to Bucky like you’re looking for a particular book, when you find it, he can see your face lighting up.

You turn the book to look at the back cover and Bucky can read the title very clearly. ‘Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince’, one of your favorite books. Bucky knows that because he’s talked about it with you for hours, along with all the other books of the series and the Lord of the Rings books, Bucky’s favorites.

You chat amicably with the older guy that owns the shop while you pay for your book and then leave, getting back into your car with Bucky still on your tail.

Next you go to a small bakery and buy a coffee and a cupcake. Thankfully for Bucky you’re too distracted by talking with the nice, old lady that owns the place to notice him buying his own coffee.

He follows you again as you cross the street to the park in front of the bakery and walk until you find a secluded spot. You sit down against a tree and continue peacefully reading your book under the summer sun while sipping your iced coffee.

Bucky sits on a bench nearby where he has a visual on you, but you can’t really see him unless you were really looking for him. But you’re so engrossed in reading that Bucky’s sure he could sit next to you and you wouldn’t even realize it.

He knows you get like that when you’re reading something that captures your attention, and the Harry Potter books always do, no matter how many times you’ve read them already.

Bucky always thought you looked so cute while reading. You make no attempt to hide your reactions and it amuses him. So he spends the next few hours just watching you read, watching your beautiful face shining in the sunlight as you frown and snort and laugh and pout as your eyes dart around the pages.

It’s actually relaxing, he thinks to himself. Is this what you do every year? Take a whole day just to read without the chaos of the Compound and nobody to bother you?

But why would you be so secretive about this? Reading for hours with a cup of coffee is something you’d done countless times in your room, on the roof, in the backyard of the Compound or even in the common room, never really bothered by the noise the team makes when you’re so into the words you’re reading.

So why do it in secret?

After a few hours, around lunch time, you finally come out of the book’s trance and gather your things before getting up.

Bucky frowns when you don’t get back into your car and follows you as you walk to a small family owned Italian restaurant that Bucky’s never been to but always wanted to try. He discreetly follows you in and takes a table in the back where you can’t see him.

He watches you interact with the owner, the waiter and even the cook comes out to talk to you. It’s clear that they all know you and it seems to Bucky like you’re pretty close to them even though he’s never even heard you mention this place before. When you’re done eating, Bucky sees you playfully fight with the owner that doesn’t want to let you pay so you leave a generous tip that amounts to more than your check is and the owner chuckles to himself when you wink as you walk out.

After lunch, which Bucky has to admit was pretty good, he follows you to a flower shop a couple of doors down and he’s surprised to see the owner greeting you like old friends. It looks like she was already anticipating your arrival, a bouquet of blue roses already on the counter and ready to go when you arrive. You chat with the older woman for a few minutes before paying and leaving the flower shop to go to your car.

It’s clear to Bucky by now that you obviously have a routine on your secret day, and everyone you see on this day knows it.

So why don’t the Avengers?

You looked so comfortable with all the people you’ve met today, Bucky can’t help but think that maybe you don’t feel like you belong on the team.

You drive until you arrive at your destination and Bucky is both surprised and confused when you park in the parking lot of a cemetery, get out of your car and enter it.

He subtly follows you in, watching you walk past a few graves and it looks to him like you know your way around by how effortlessly you walk without needing to check the names, stopping at one almost at the end of the row you were in while Bucky keeps his distance, always making sure to stay out of sight.

He sees you take a deep breath before kneeling in front of the grave and putting down the bouquet of flowers in front of it.

“Hi, mom…” You wipe the dirt off the tombstone and tidy the flowers in front of it with what Bucky’s sure it’s a forced smile. “Happy birthday.”

You take out the cupcake you bought that Bucky now realizes you hadn’t eaten yet and he sees you put a small red birthday candle on it and light it, then you just look at it for a few seconds before you sigh and blow it out.

“So…” You say quietly, looking back at the tombstone and Bucky can see a tear falling down your cheek.

A piece of Bucky's heart breaks seeing you so vulnerable and hurting like this, but he stays put no matter how much he wants to be at your side right now.

Bucky stands there in complete silence, hearing everything you say, hanging on to every word. He hears you talk about everything that happened in the past year, he listens to you talk about missions and parties and holidays. He hears you talk about the whole team and his heart flutters a little when you mention his name too.

You talk for a while and, after he assumes you run out of new things to say, he sees you taking out the book you just bought today.

“So, this year we finally got to the half-blood prince.” You say with a small smile. “It’s our favorite, hadn’t read it in a while.”

Bucky sees you open it and go to the page you left the bookmark in.

“It took me longer than I thought to find your favorite quote, I have to admit.” You say with a small chuckle. “It’s like 400 pages in, don’t judge me.”

Bucky chuckles quietly at your playfulness, even in this situation. He can’t help but find you adorable.

“It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.” You read the quote before closing the book and looking back at the grave. “That’s what you told me when I was scared of the dark…” You say quietly with a smile.

“And that’s what you told me before you…” You trail off, not being able to finish your sentence as tears start streaming down your cheeks but Bucky has a pretty good idea where you were going.

That's what she told you before she died, so you wouldn't be scared.

He’s more than surprised that he didn’t know your mother died, and he’s pretty sure the rest of the team doesn’t know either.

Admittedly, families are a very touchy subject for the Avengers.

But Bucky’s even more surprised to see you breaking down, something you’ve never done before. You’re cheery, you’re bubbly, you’re everyone’s little ray of sunshine.

And it breaks Bucky’s heart to know you’ve been falling apart when you’re by yourself all these years.

“I’m sorry I only come here once a year, I just…” You start, so quietly that Bucky’s glad he has enhanced hearing otherwise he's sure he wouldn't be able to hear you. “I miss you so much and I can’t… I can’t bear this.”

He sees you running your fingers gently over the tombstone as you take a deep, shaky breath, but you can’t stop crying.

“I’m trying to be the person you loved…” You say after a moment of silence. “Your little ray of sunshine.” You chuckle softly through the tears.

It makes sense to Bucky now why you always try to be there for everyone else. It’s how you’ve always been, apparently. Always making sure no one feels alone because deep down you feel the most alone, and you don’t want anyone else to feel that way.

You are my sunshine

Bucky’s thoughts get interrupted when he hears you quietly starting to sing.

My only sunshine

Bucky knows this song. It’s a lullaby that he’s heard you sing once before.

Clint’s family visited him at the Compound and you offered to watch his kids so he and his wife could have a date night.

You probably didn’t realize he heard you, you probably thought you were alone and it’s not like he was spying on you. He just happened to pass by when you were in Clint’s room, trying to get the three kids to sleep by singing to them.

You make me happy, when skies are gray

You take a breath before continuing but your voice wavers a little.

You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you

Bucky can see you’re having trouble getting the words out, your voice almost breaking.

Please don’t take… My sunshine… Away

Before you can even get the last word out, you break down completely, burying your face in your hands while sobbing.

Bucky feels his heart break as he takes in your pain. He wishes there was some clear and simple solution to making this all better for you, but there's always been so much he doesn't understand about complex emotions like these.

Right now, as he's watching how broken you are, though, he knows that he doesn't even care about understanding. He just wants to comfort you, to try and make it better...

Bucky comes to rest beside you, he kneels down to your level and places his hand gently on your shoulder. “Hey…” He says quietly.

His presence startles you and you go into defense mode, taking his hand on your shoulder and bending it, then using your grip on his arm to push him face down on the ground.

Bucky didn’t expect you to react so quickly and aggressively which makes it easier for you to catch him off-guard and pin him down.

“Goddammit, Bucky!” You say after you finally recognize him and let him go, getting up and scrambling back to put some distance between you and him while breathing heavily.

For a moment, Bucky is a little stunned. It's rare that anyone is able to get the jump on him like that. But then he snaps back to reality. He lets you make your distance while getting back to his feet and stands a few feet away from you.

“Did you fucking follow me?!” Your sadness is quickly forgotten and replaced with anger.

“I…” Bucky doesn’t know what to say. He knows he’s in the wrong here and he has no defense for himself when he knowingly violated your privacy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“You didn’t what?!” You snap at him. “You didn’t understand what the meaning of privacy is?!”

Bucky doesn’t know what to say, he’s never seen you this angry at anyone that’s not an enemy and surely never at him.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He says quickly. “I’m sorry, I was just curious, I didn’t think this would be it, I thought…”

“You thought what?” You say when he trails off, clearly pissed as you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“I thought maybe you were a supervillain…” He jokes weakly, trying to make you laugh. “Or a stripper.”

His last word gets a surprised laugh out of you as you, fortunately, understand he’s just joking before you actually punch him in the face.

Bucky lets out a sigh of relief as he sees you laugh and then takes a tentative step towards you.

“I really am sorry…” He says quietly, reaching out to put his hand on your shoulder. “I know it was wrong of me to follow you, and I didn’t plan on bothering you at all, which doesn’t make what I did better,” He quickly adds when he sees you’re about to say something.

“But when I saw you crying, I just… I couldn’t help myself.” He trails his hand down your arm to your hand and takes it in his. “You’re always there for everybody, I don’t think it’s fair that you don’t let anybody be there for you.”

You look at him for a long moment, processing his words. Of course you know he’s right, you don’t let anybody be there for you, but you also never really believed anyone cared enough to.

But looking at Bucky right now, it feels like he really does want to be there for you...

So you let him.

You look back down at the grave, your hand still in his as you intertwine your fingers together.

“She died when I was 14.” You say quietly. “I only had her, so I was on my own after that…”

Bucky listens quietly, his eyes on your face as he sees the tears starting to gather in your eyeline again.

“A few years later, Natasha and Clint found me during a mission. They saw me knock out a dude that cornered me in an alley and they were impressed…” You have a faint smile at the memory although it’s clear you’re about to cry again. “They offered me a place in the SHIELD Academy and, after that, I don’t know… I wasn’t alone anymore.”

You look back at Bucky to find him looking at you intently, his gaze intent and unwavering.

“Doll…” He says quietly while cupping your face with his free hand as he sees you holding back tears. “It’s okay to be vulnerable in front of the people you care about. You taught me that.”

His gentle words, the way he softly strokes your cheek and the way he’s looking at you so lovingly, it’s all too much for you and can’t hold back your tears anymore.

With a broken sob, you bury your face in Bucky’s chest and hug him tightly, clinging to him while he wraps his arms around you and hugs you just as tight, kissing the top of your head before nuzzling his face against your hair.

In this moment, while holding you in his arms, Bucky realizes it’s not like you don’t feel like you belong with the Avengers.

This is just something you feel like you have to go through on your own because you’ve always had to.

And he’ll be damned if he lets you go through it alone ever again.

Drabble

#bucky barnes #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers #tony stark #avengers x platonic!reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfiction #clint barton

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 8 months ago

Note

Katherine’s horny thought has been sent to you: 💌

Bucky Barnes is a feral man when it comes to his girl and seeing her being friendly with Steve…he cannot contain himself anymore. You gotta share something angsty and smutty babe. For all of us. 🤍

Here’s a promt:

“Are you trying to make me jealous doll? Cause it’s fucking working.”

You’re Mine » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Bucky makes sure his best girl knows that she’s his and only his when he sees her getting a little to friendly with Steve.

Warnings: Angst, Smut (18+), language, mentions of alcohol, jealousy, kissing, hickeys, fingering, unprotected sex, daddy kink, metal arm kink, praise kink, praise kink, choking, degrading, name calling (slut), use of pet names

A/N: Thank you for requesting @katherineswritingsblog 🩷

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

Bucky watched from across the room as your hand rubbed Steve’s bicep, giving it a squeeze. His right hand was clutching the glass so tight that it could shatter any second. Bucky’s jaw clenched when you kissed Steve on his cheek. That was the last straw for him. Bucky downed the rest of his whiskey and slammed the glass on the table, not caring if he broke it or not.

“Hey doll, we better call it a night. We have that thing to do tomorrow.” Bucky says, grabbing your upper arm.

“What thing?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“You know what I’m talking about.” He says, tightening his grip on your arm, making you wince slightly.

“Oh yea!” You went along with it. “Goodnight, Stevie.” You say, kissing Steve’s cheek again.

Bucky practically drug you out of the room to the elevator and to yours and his shared bedroom. He closed and locked the door the second you two got in the bedroom. He then pinned you against the wall.

“Are you trying to make me jealous, doll? Cause it’s fucking working.” He practically growls.

“Now you know how I feel, James.” You say with sass in your tone.

Bucky chuckles and shook his head.

“So this is what that little stunt was about, huh?” He starts. “You decided to flirt with Steve cause I was talking to that girl at the coffee shop yesterday.” He says.

“More like flirting.” You say with an attitude.

Bucky grasped your jaw, making you look straight at him. His blue eyes were filled with jealousy, anger, and lust.

“How many god damn times do I have to tell you? I told her that I have a girlfriend and wanted nothing to do with her.” He says, almost gritting his teeth.

“That’s not what I saw!” You say.

“What did you think you seen, babydoll?” He asks.

“You were flirting with her! That’s what I seen and heard!” You say.

“And you think that it makes it right to flirt with my best friend?” He says.

“I wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine.” You say.

Bucky scoffs and shakes his head.

“Let me tell you something, babydoll…” His face got closer to yours, his lips inches from yours. “You’re fucking mine. Not Steve’s. Mine.” Bucky growls.

The next thing you know, you hear the sound of fabric tearing. Bucky just ripped off your dress. You didn’t even have time to react to it cause he yanked your panties down your legs and picked you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. Bucky almost immediately latched his lips on your neck, his teeth biting down hard enough to mark you up. A moan left your lips when his metal fingers rubbed your clit. His fingers found their way to your wet entrance, circling it teasingly before unexpectedly sliding two metal fingers inside of you. His fingers fucked you fast while his metal thumb rubbed your clit. You threw your head back against the wall, moans of his name leaving your lips.

“Oh daddy!” You moaned.

His fingers found your sweet spot almost immediately. Your pussy clenched around his fingers every time his fingers hit it.

“You’re such a fucking slut for me.” Bucky almost whispers. “I bet I can get you to cum in seconds just with my metal fingers.” He says.

You couldn’t form any coherent words. Moans and whimpers left your lips the more he degraded you. Honestly, you fucking love it when he degrades you. Bucky knows it turns you on. That’s why he does it.

His fingers were hitting all of the right spots, massaging your wet and warm walls and hitting your sweet spot causing your cunt to squeeze around his fingers. Your orgasm was building up quickly.

“I bet you’re so close, aren’t you, doll?” Bucky taunts. “You want to cum, don’t you?” He says.

“Yes please, daddy!” You whimpered.

“That’s too bad.” He abruptly took his fingers out of your pussy and leaving you frustrated. “You’re not gonna cum for a while.” He says, making you whine in frustration.

Bucky walked you over to the bed, dropping you on it. You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched as Bucky stripped himself out of his clothes. You looked down at his hard cock and licked your lips.

“My eyes are up here, doll face.” Bucky says, snapping his fingers.

“Shut up and fuck me.” You sassed.

Bucky spread your legs and got in between them. A loud moan left your lips when Bucky thrusted his cock inside of you in one thrust. You decided to test him more.

“Is that all you got? I’m sure Steve can give me more.” You say tauntingly.

A growl left Bucky’s lips. His metal hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing a little bit. He put his hand on the headboard above your head and began pounding into you. Your nails left red scratch marks on his back. Loud moans left your lips.

“Say that again. I fucking dare you.” Bucky growls. “Steve doesn’t know your body like I do. He wouldn’t know how to touch you like I do.” He says.

Pleasure took over your body. Bucky’s cock was hitting your sweet spot repeatedly. His fingers on his right hand found their way to your clit and began rubbing to the point where you were sensitive. Your pussy squeezed around his cock.

“Daddy, please!” You whined. “Please let me cum!” You begged. “I’ll be a good girl!” You whined again.

“I don’t think so, babydoll. You’re not gonna cum until I do.” He says.

“But daddy!” You whined.

“Quit your fucking whining.” He says, applying light pressure on your throat.

You tried your best to not cum, but it was so hard. His cock kept hitting your sweet spot, making you want to cum. Bucky pulled you into a rough kiss, his tongue slid past your parted lips and explored every inch of your mouth.

“You want to cum so badly?” Bucky asks. “Prove to me that you deserve to cum.” He says.

“I won’t ever flirt with Steve again. I promise to be a good girl and listen to what daddy says.” You say, followed by a whimper.

“You better be a good girl and do what I say.” He starts. “Cum for daddy, doll.” He whispers.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and a loud moan of his name left your lips as you came hard, soaking the sheets beneath you. Bucky’s thrusts became sloppy and he came inside of you. He thrusted a few more times before pulling out and laid down next to you. Both of you were sweaty and panting.

“Flirt with Steve again and I won’t hesitate to tie you to the bed and edge you.” Bucky says.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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ovulationation · 3 months ago

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Rivalry

Pairing: frat!Bucky x sorority!reader

Summary: You and Bucky have been academic rivals since the start of college. How will he react when you celebrate your accomplishment at his frat’s party?

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p-in-v (for the love of god just wear a condom), academic rivals, creampie, praise kink

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

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks and your breath hitches. He grins at you and lets out a chuckle.

“Fuck you, James.” You snarl.

“Would you, Doc?”

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

The first time you met James Barnes was move-in day to your Freshman dorm. He lived right next door to you, which means that you had to hear everything that happened. The parties when you were trying to study, the obnoxiously loud music during his morning showers, and the girls that he would bring home in the middle of the night.

Things got worse when you realized that you were both on the pre-med track.

The past three years have been filled with him basically 24/7. With both of you vying for the top of the class, the best teacher recommendations, and the best volunteering experiences to pile up your resumes.

Things got slightly better when you both moved out of the dorms your second year, but the competition returned quickly when you realized you now lived in fraternity and sorority houses directly across the street from each other.

By this year (your third year) you have become full blown academic rivals. Both of you fighting over the very limited summer spots to shadow some of the best doctors in the country at your college’s hospital.

Today, on the last day of finals, you had finally gotten the message that you got one of the spots. All of your work was paying off and you could finally relax before your intense summer started.

That’s how you ended up at the last party of the year. Your friends had dragged you out as a celebration, but they forgot to inform you that this year it was being hosted by none other than James Fucking Barnes’ fraternity. The fraternity that he was just elected the President of for the upcoming year.

Now you stared across the room at him as he lounged back on the couch pushed up against the wall. Something about just the sight of him made your stomach churn, it had since the moment you saw him, but you couldn’t put your finger on exactly what. His messy black stubble on his face, his shirt that obviously didn’t even fit right since the sleeves clung to his biceps, the way he spread his legs so casually, taking up more room than needed. That stupid smirk as he made eye contact with you across the room. You started towards him.

You wanted to slap that stupid look off of his stupid face.

You stopped in between his legs, glaring down at him. He cocked his head to the side as he looked up at you, that smirk still spread across his face.

“Congratulations, Doc.” His voice low and casual as he looks up at you with lidded eyes.

“Try not to sound too excited, James.” You roll your eyes.

“But I’m so excited, I get to see you every day this summer.” His eyes rake up your body, taking in your short skirt. You feel a shiver run over you as his eyes meet yours again.

“You got the other spot?” You scoff.

“Yep,” he grins up at you, leaning forward in his seat.

He reaches a hand out to rest against the side of your bare thigh, causing goosebumps to pop up along the flesh. Your knees feel weak.

“Maybe we should carpool?” His head tilts to the side as he looks at you under his lashes.

“I would rather walk barefoot on hot gravel,” you deadpan, despite the shudder that travels through your body as he starts to ghost his fingers over your skin.

You gesture towards the red cup in his other hand with your chin, “How many have you had, Bucky?”

His eyes light up at the nickname. “Just the one, gotta stay sharp.”

“The internship doesn’t start until next week.”

“Not talkin about the internship.”

Both of his hands slide to the backs of your thighs, pulling you forward and onto his lap. You let out a gasp, looking around at all of the people who are too drunk to pay any attention to the two of you.

His hands rest on top of your thighs, thumbs tracing lazy patterns on the skin.

“W-what are you doing?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“It’s too loud, I wanna be able to hear you better.” He leans back again, just staring at you. The start of a dull ache pulsing deep in your abdomen.

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks and your breath hitches. He grins at you and lets out a chuckle.

“Fuck you, James.” You snarl.

“Would you, Doc?” He smirks and the ache gets stronger.

A beat passes with you staring at him in surprise before he lunges at you. His lips crashing against yours. You pull back in shock, taking in his red cheeks and his pupils blown wide. Then, without even thinking, you crash back into him.

He kisses you hungrily, taking advantage of the first gasp that leaves you to slip his tongue between your lips and explore your mouth eagerly. You feel him grow hard beneath you and you gasp again. You push yourself down against him, feeling his bulge hitting right where you need it.

He groans into the kiss, his hands flying up to grab onto your hips to still your motion, causing you to whine. He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours, “My room?” He asks breathlessly.

“Please.”

You jump off of his lap and he tangles his fingers with yours, pulling you through the sea of people and up the stairs to his bedroom.

His room is much cleaner than you would have ever expected. No navy sheets, no empty liquor bottles on the shelves, he even had multiple pillows. His desk had off of his notebooks neatly stacked on top of it.

Bucky shut the door and locked it, turning back to look at you, his cheeks flushed.

You didn’t even have to say anything before he was on you again. Pulling you back to his lap on the bed. This time kissing along your jaw and down your neck.

“Why?” You breathe out, trying to focus on anything besides his lips trailing down your neck.

He pulls back to look at your face, “Why what?”

“Why the sudden switch up?”

He stares at you with a bewildered look, “There wasn’t a switch up, I’ve always liked you.”

Your brows knit together in confusion, “But-“

You’re cut off by his lips reattaching to your skin, now nipping at a sensitive spot underneath your ear. You gasp.

“I thought you liked me too,” he mumbles against your skin. His hands grip your hips, using them to drag you against his clothed erection.

“But,” You’re interrupted by a moan escaping you as his zipper hits your clit through your panties. “You’ve always argued with me and competed against me in everything I did.” Your hands grip his shoulders to steady yourself.

“I was flirting,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

His hands push your skirt up to your waist, revealing your panties. His eyes never leave yours as he pushes them to the side and grazes his thumb over your clit.

“I probably shouldn’t have pushed your buttons as much as I did,” he says, his middle finger sliding down to your dripping core, teasing your entrance. “But you’re just so hot when you’re angry.”

You bite your lip to stifle a moan as he pushes his finger inside of you. His finger slowly working inside of you while his thumb rubbed lazy circles against your clit, his other hand still gripping your hip. He watched you like he was studying you, making sure he was hitting just the right spots. Trying to get you off like he was getting graded for it.

His other hand comes up and pulls your bottom lip out from between your teeth, “Wanna hear you, baby.”

You let out a whine as he pushes a second finger inside of you, curling them against that spot that makes you see stars.

“Bucky,” you whimper, feeling that cord inside of you wind tighter.

“I know, baby” He coos, his thumb speeding up its rhythm on your clit.

You clench around his fingers as you come undone, your forehead falling against his shoulder as you grind into his fingers.

Before you’ve completely recovered, you’re being laid onto the bed. Your back hitting the blankets while your legs are still twitching.

Bucky stands in front of you, pulling his shirt off, revealing his toned chest and arms. When could he possibly have the time to go to the gym?

You sit up quickly, reaching for his belt with shaky hands. He chuckles, looking down at you as you pull the front of his jeans open and push them down his legs. Now he’s just in his underwear, leaving nothing to the imagination as his hard cock strains against the fabric.

“You’re getting a little impatient” He smirks down at you.

You look up at him beneath your lashes, wanting to get that stupid smirk off of his face. You grab his waistband and pull it down, causing his cock to spring free.

He groans as you reach out to wrap your hand around his thick length. Your hand pumping him a few times, testing. His hand wraps around your wrist, stopping your movement. You look back into his eyes, now looking down at you like he could devour you whole.

“You’re wearing far too many clothes.” He growls.

You pull your shirt over your head and throw it to the floor, your nipples hardening as they hit the cool air. His breathing picks up as he takes in the sight, his eyes darting between each of your breasts.

You help him pull your skirt off, tearing your panties off with it. Now leaving you both bare. Your eyes raking over each other’s bodies.

He lowers himself to the bed and crawls his way up your body, stopping to plays stray kisses up from your navel, to each breast, and finally back to your lips. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him against you.

His hands ghost over your hips to grasp the backs of your thighs, pulling them apart. He pulls back to lift onto his knees, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock and tapping it against your clit.

You gasp, gripping his arms as he slides through your folds.

“Bucky, stop teasing,” You whine, clutching at the sheets in frustration.

“What do you need?” He smirks down at you with that stupid face.

“Need you, please.” You whimper when the tip of his cock hitches into your entrance.

He pushes into you with a low groan. Your slick walls squeeze him tight as he bottoms out inside you. He pants above you, his eyes going back and forth between your face and where you’re connected. His fingers slip down and tease along your folds, collecting your slick. They move up to your sensitive nub and coat it in your juices, rubbing tight circles.

“F-fuck,” you gasp, throwing your head back into the mattress.

“Nuh uh,” Bucky scolds, stopping completely.

You whine and look back to his face. His free hand moves to grip your chin, making sure you’re looking into his eyes before starting his slow, deep thrusts again.

“Want to see your face, pretty girl.”

You nod and fight to keep your eyes from rolling back when the tip of his cock hits that spot inside you.

“I can feel you squeezing,” he groans, his fingers moving faster against your clit. “You gonna cum for me?”

“So close, Bucky.” You whimper, feeling that cord deep inside you about to snap.

His thrusts get faster, hitting that spot relentlessly over and over again. Soon your vision goes blank, moaning loudly as you gush over his cock. He never wavers, still thrusting into you at the same rhythm even as you clamp down around him.

“That’s a good fucking girl.” He coos, angling himself down to capture your lips again.

You moan against his lips. He never gives you a chance to catch your breath after your orgasm, just keeps his unrelenting pace inside you.

His thrusts start to get sloppy as he groans into your mouth, “can I cum inside you?”

You moan at his desperate words, “yes, please Bucky.”

He thrusts a few more times before stilling deep inside you, spilling his cum against your cervix. The feeling of his hot seed spreading through you makes you whine. His face presses into your shoulder as he lazily thrusts into you, kissing a little trail up your neck.

After a few minutes of sloppy kisses and trying to catch your breath, Bucky slips out of you and rolls to lay beside you.

Your chest rises and falls quickly as you turn your head to face him. He’s already looking at you.

His stupid grin plastered back to his face as he leans in to give you a short but hungry kiss.

“This summer is gonna be fun, Doc.”

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

I swear to god writing this felt like pulling teeth for some reason. It def doesn’t feel as good as my last one, but I wanted to try writing again and I was OBSESSED with the academic rivals to lovers trope so here ya go lol

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jeonstellate · 1 year ago

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chaos inferno — ember ii

himiko meets two eternals, who promptly recruit her to stop the emergence.

✶༄ platonic!eternals x nb!original character

✶༄ no warnings available for this ember

✶༄ paragraph format — 0.9K words

masterlist | chaos inferno masterlist

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

Thinking back on what exactly ADONIS told her, Miko certainly was to blame for making assumptions about the visitors in the lobby. The AI never told faer they were for her, so fae shouldn’t’ve assumed the visitors were her friends — especially if fae wasn’t expecting any visits from them in the first place.

Since fae was already there, the receptionist just advised her to take off faers face mask — if she wanted to appear more presentable than fae currently was — before heading over. Miko thought she had made them wait long enough, so faers royal blue bathrobe, black cat ears hairband, and black slippers (minus the white face mask) would have to do.

Miko would just have to hope they don’t spread her lack of professionalism on faers day off.

"Thank you for waiting," fae opted to announce her presence in an appreciative manner, especially since the rest of faers introduction would be in an apologetic tone. "I apologize for my outfit, I wasn’t really expecting to go down the lobby today."

"It’s alright," the man accepted her apology immediately. "Thank you for meeting us on your day off. We really appreciate it."

She mentally took note of his accent before replying, "Of course." Fae shifted faers eyes to the woman next to him, racking her brain for any instance that fae had already met or seen them before. "Do you mind telling me your names?" Truthfully, they didn’t radiate anything that she could consider alarming, but she knew it was the best to be on guard either way.

"Not at all," it was the woman who spoke up — also with a similar accent as her companion. "I’m Sersi and this is Ikaris."

Fae confirmed then that she had never met nor heard about them before — at least not by face nor name. She nodded in acknowledgment, "My name’s Miko, but I know you already know that," then dismissively waved faers hand to signal that fae was about to change the subject. "What can I do for you, Sersi and Ikaris?"

Miko gestured for the two to sit back down, as she situated herself on the adjacent sofa. "We need your help," Ikaris started. "The world is ending and we need your help."

"I—" Miko stared, a little unsure on how to react properly. "I don’t doubt that since the world seems to do that often, but," she stopped short, thinking of the best way to express faers next thoughts, "how did you know? S.H.I.E.L.D. nor the Avengers—"

"I’m afraid the Emergence is not within S.H.I.E.L.D.’s nor the Avengers’ expertise."

"Then whose?" Fae questioned, "Yours?"

"Yes, ours." Miko didn’t like the feeling she got with Ikaris’ emphasis, but fae couldn’t pinpoint why. "The Eternals."

A part of her wanted to ask who came up with the name and the reason behind it, but fae ultimately decided against it. If the world was approaching an end as they say, then they certainly have better things to do. "Pardon me, but if it’s your — the Eternals’ — responsibility this time, then why contact me?"

Sersi and Ikaris looked at one another before the former responded, "You’re one of us, Miko."

Miko remembered the time when gods and aliens were just characters from fictional works.

Fae doesn’t remember much about faers younger days, but fae is fairly certain her teenager (pre-S.H.I.E.L.D.) self would’ve scoffed at present-Miko for believing that they actually exist. Even more so if she tried to convince faers younger self that she is an immortal faerself.

"Hold on," Miko shifted faers sitting position, "I get that Eternals are immortal superheroes with a mission to protect Earth from Deviants, A-K-A alien monsters. My life has been weird enough that I can’t even doubt that part. Also the part about you being Eternals . . . I believe that, too, since I can’t really dispute the whole levitation and transfiguration thing. However, the part about me being an Eternal . . . How do you expect me to believe that?"

No one can really blame Miko for being highly skeptical. After all, everything Sersi and Ikaris claimed seemed conveniently tied to the fact that she couldn’t remember anything from faers childhood through her early high school days. (Her lack of memory was not something the media knew, though, so fae wondered how they knew that.) According to them, her earliest memories were centuries far from being faers first ones. According to them, faers actual earliest memories should be older than Ferdinand Magellan’s circumnavigation of the world; around the time farming was still relatively new to humans. According to them, the reason why fae can’t remember anything that hints at her immortality is because she contracted a disease — Mahd Wy’ry, they called it — that essentially forced faer to give up all her memories in exchange for living a ‘normal’ life. However, before her memories were erased, fae apparently made a request to their leader — Ajax, the leader of Eternals at the time — if her immortality could be stripped away as well, so Miko could finally be a human as fae always wanted and grow up.

"We didn’t," Ikaris answered truthfully, his eyes immediately reverting back to their neutral state after displaying a hint of adoration as they look at faer rambling. "We knew it would be difficult to convince you, given that you have all your memories as an Eternal wiped."

"Does that mean you have prepared other methods to convince me?"

"Not necessarily," it was Sersi’s turn to reply. "We did hope you would help us still, for the sake of humanity."

"That’s not enough," Miko informed them. "I don’t work with people I don’t trust."

"Then let us show you we can be trusted."

next ember >

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happyimagines · 2 years ago

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vbecker10 · 3 months ago

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As Long as You Love Me

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You've been Loki's only friend since he joined the Avengers and you are trying to hide your growing crush on him since you doubt he feels the same. One night, Loki accidentally catches you singing in the kitchen when you think you are alone and you let it slip that the song reminds you of him.

Warnings: Trying to go for fluff only but there is a little bit of Loki feeling like no one will love him after what happened with Odin, Laufey and Thanos

A/N: Do not judge me for this song choice... because I don't care lol. Every once in a while I still listen to the Backstreet Boys even though in my mid-30s. I thought the song just fit really well with Loki so here we are. Also, I needed something short and fluffy to get me out of my writing slump. Hope you all enjoy this 💚

Thanks @animnerd for letting my bounce this is off of you 💚

"Popcorn time," you say to yourself as you close the microwave in the common kitchen and push the popcorn button. The bag starts to rotate and you move to lean your back against the island as you take your phone out of your pocket.

"Nope, nope, nope..." you hit skip on the next three songs that shuffle through your Playlist unaware that you are no longer alone in the kitchen.

Loki walks into the room, a smile quickly spreads across his face when he sees you. "Hello Y/N," he says from a few feet behind you. His smile fades slightly when you don't respond but then he notices you're wearing your earbuds.

You hum, putting your phone down on the counter next to you as the next song starts, still not realizing that Loki is watching you. Raising the volume slightly louder, you drown out the sound of your midnight snack popping. You begin to lip sync, bopping your head with the rhythm of the song. As the song continues, you start to sing out loud without meaning to.

Every little thing that you have said and done

Feels like it's deep within me

Doesn't really matter if you're on the run

It seems like we're meant to be

I don't care who you are

Where you're from

What you did

As long as you love me

Who you are

Where you're from

Don't care what you did

As long as you-

The microwave beeps and you stop signing as you open the door and grab the bag. You turn back around and nearly drop your snack with a surprised yelp as you spot Loki standing on the other side of the island.

You take off your headphones quickly and he laughs as he apologizes, "Sorry, I tried to get your attention but you didn't hear me."

"You sure you weren't waiting there just to scare the crap out of me?" you joke and pause your music.

"If I was trying to scare you, you would know." He smirks, "Would you like me to show you?"

"Definitely not, I'm good, thanks," you laugh and shake your head, opening the bag.

"Stark is more fun to scare anyway," he says as he comes to stand next to you. "I had no idea you could sing," he adds.

You feel a bit confused then you realize you must have been singing outloud. "Oh, no," you shake your head and laugh. "I'm a horrible singer. I thought I was alone or I never would have subjected you to that."

"I liked it," Loki smiles genuinely.

"Liar," you taunt him and eat a few pieces of popcorn as you lean on the counter next to him.

He raises an eyebrow at you, "You know I never lie to you."

"So you're not a liar," you admit, knowing you are in fact the only person Loki never lies to. "But that just means we need to get your ears checked."

"I've never heard that song before," he changes the topic slightly.

"It's old-ish. I used to listen to it when I was a teenager," you tell him and he nods as he takes a handful of popcorn from the bag you're holding. "Do you mind?" you joke as you pull it away from him.

"No," he laughs, eatting the pieces he stole one at a time. "So why are you listening to it again?"

Without thinking, you answer, "It reminds me of you." You immediately look down at your feet as you shift awkwardly away from Loki.

"It does?" he asks and you can hear the surprise and confusion in his voice.

"Uh..." your brain tries to come up with a response but the only thing you can think of is the truth. "Yeah," is all you offer him as an explanation.

You can feel him shifting closer to but you don't look up at him, "Why is that?"

"Don't worry about it, it's just a stupid song," you try to end the conversation. "I've got to finish my laundry."

"If I'm not allowed to lie, neither are you," he reminds you and when you look up, you can tell you aren't escaping just yet.

You bite your lip and hope half of the truth will be enough to appease the God of Lies. "Okay... but just remember you asked," you sigh and he waits patiently for your answer. "Do you remember last month when we were talking about some of the stuff that happened before you joined the Avengers?"

He nods. It was a very long, difficult conversation that neither of you had planned on having. Loki had been acting more distant than usual all week and when you finally convinced him to talk to you, he opened up about how out of place and lonely he felt on Midgard. You tried your best to reassure him that the others on the team would become more welcoming to him once they got to know him better. He agreed half heartedly and followed up his comment by telling you that he barely deserved friends, let alone a partner after all he had done. You stayed with him most of the night, listening to all the things he blamed himself for and trying to remind him that none of what happened with Thanos was his fault.

"This song came on my Playlist randomly a few days later and I was thinking about the chours," you explain. "I don't care who you are, where you're from or what you did as long as you love me. It just kinda stuck with me that that's what you need. Someone who doesn't care that you're a Frost Giant from Jotunheim and knows that you didn't attack the city because you wanted to. Someone who accepts you for who you are."

"And where would I find someone like that?" he asks. His fingers gently stroke your cheek and you look up at him. He seems almost nervous as he smiles down at you.

You force a smile back through your nerves, "I've always accepted you Loki."

"I know you have darling," he says in a soft tone. The sudden use of the pet name makes you blush and when you try to look away, his fingers hook gently under your chin. Loki's eyes lock on yours as he says, "And I love you for it."

Your heart hammers against your ribcage as you try to process Loki's words. "You... what?" you ask, feeling shocked and confused and sure you misheard him.

He chuckles anxiously at your response, dropping his hand from your chin as you take a small step away from him, "I hadn't planned on you telling you this way..."

You stand in complete silence for a moment, trying to force yourself to admit to Loki that you've been in love with him for months. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out and Loki's smile fades completely.

"I understand that you don't feel the same, that's why I hadn't meant to tell you. Y/N, I don't want to lose your friendship, it means too much to me-" Loki's words are cut short when you put your hand on the back of his neck and pull his lips to yours.

In an instant, Loki kisses you back fiercely. His hands move to your lower back and he pulls your body flush to his as you drop the bag of popcorn but neither of you notice. After a few moments, you break from the kiss to catch your breath and let out a small giggle. "I love you too," you smile up at him, his hands still resting on your back.

"I was hoping that's what the kiss meant," he laughs then leans down to place a quick kiss on your lips.

You nod then rest your head on his shoulder, one of his hands moves to play with your hair gently. "That's my new favorite song," you say before placing a kiss on his neck and hugging him tightly.

"Mine too," Loki agrees with a light laugh.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

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heytheredelulu · 8 months ago

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Wants & Needs

Bucky Barnes x Reader

18+

Word count: 1.8k

Content Warnings: unprotected sex (p-in-v), rough sex, dirty talk, pet names, size kink, masturbation, language, teasing, flashing

You come home late from girls night knowing Bucky will still be up. You want need him and you’re finally going to let him know.

“Hey.” You said softly, shutting the door behind you and shrugging off your jacket.

It was late, nearly two in the morning and as expected, Bucky was sitting up in the living room reclining on the couch with a glass of bourbon in his hand. He nodded in greeting but even in the dim light you could see his blue eyes rake up your form, taking in your appearance. You kicked your shoes off and started across the room.

“You were out late.” He says, taking a swig from his glass. “Nice dress.”

You settle into the chair across from him and cross your legs. “Girls night.” You reply, acknowledging why you were out late and why you were wearing that slinky little black dress.

“Girls night?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. “Dressed like that?”

You frown and look down at your dress. “What’s wrong with it?” You ask.

He shrugs. “Nothing. You look nice. Just assumed you were coming back from a date, not girls night.”

You laughed. “A date? Yeah right.”

He raised both eyebrows this time, pausing with his glass at his lips. “What is that supposed to mean?” He asked.

You shook your head. “It means that I don’t go on dates.”

He lowered his glass and tilted his head inquisitively. “Why not?” He asked. “It’s not like you couldn’t get one. The dudes around here are practically throwing themselves at you.”

You shrug and lean back in your seat.

“I don’t want them.” You say quietly, resting a hand on your knee.

He sets his glass down, his curiosity peaked by your response.

“You don’t?” He asks.

You shake your head, shifting in your seat and uncrossing your legs. “I don’t.” You repeat, letting your thighs fall open as you stare across at him.

You sat in silence for a few moments until his gaze traveled down between your legs, falling onto your bare cunt underneath your dress.

You swore you heard his breath catch in his throat before his eyes flicked back up to meet yours and he leans forward with his elbows on his knees.

“What is it you want?” He asked, his focus drifting back to your exposed pussy. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip and he let out a slow, shaky breath.

You don’t answer him, responding instead by spreading your legs wider, your folds glistening with the slick of your arousal.

“Cut the bullshit.” He whispers, swallowing hard. “Tell me what you want.”

The hand resting on your knee slides up your thigh and dips between your legs. You trace a finger through your folds, gathering your wetness while your eyes remain fixed on him.

“I don’t want anything.” You breathe out, your head falling to rest against your shoulder as your finger traces over your clit.

His own fingers twitch as if he wants to reach for you and his eyes narrow in frustration.

“I thought I said cut the b-”

“And I said I don’t want anything.” You interrupt, your finger rubbing small circles over your clit. “Wants and needs are two different things, Buck.”

His elbows fall away from his knees and he leans back in his seat, his new position giving you a better view of his cock straining against his jeans.

“Fine.” He murmurs, resting his large palm over his erection. “What is it you need?” He asks, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

You slide your finger towards your entrance, pausing against your tight, wet hole but not slipping it in just yet, causing him to visibly squirm in his seat. His breath falters and he catches his bottom lip between his teeth as he begins to palm himself lazily over his jeans.

“I think it’s obvious, isn’t it?” You ask, sinking a finger into your cunt. “Or do you just want to hear me say it?”

He scowls and unbuttons his jeans, gripping his waistband and tugging them down his thighs along with his boxers. His hard cock springs free against his abs, the tip angry and weeping with pre-cum.

“Are you gonna keep being a fucking tease?” He asks, spitting into his palm and pumping himself with his fist. “Or are you gonna cut the bullshit and let me wreck that pretty little pussy?”

You withdraw your finger, standing up from your chair and taking a step towards him. He stills his movements and scoffs, his expression darkening.

“No.” He says sternly. “You wanted to be a brat? You can crawl over here.”

You drop to your knees as told, crawling the short distance across the floor to him and slotting yourself between his thick thighs, marveling at his thick cock as he resumed fucking his fist mere inches from your face. “You want my cock?” He asks, bringing his free hand to roughly grasp your jaw. “You need my cock?”

You nod against his firm hold on your face, licking your lips as your eyes hungrily follow his every stroke. “I do.” You whine, reaching for him but he swiftly releases your jaw and smacks your hand away. “You could have just asked, you know.” He says, his tone suddenly gentle and betraying the dominance he was emanating.

“I-“ You start, rising to your feet and moving to straddle his thighs.

He lets go of his cock, reaching up and sliding the straps of your dress off your shoulders, peeling the fabric down and exposing your breasts. He cups one in his hand, kneading it gently as he looks up at you. “I wish you would have asked.” He mumbles, dipping his head down and taking your nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue around it. You moan, tipping your head back and bringing your soaking cunt onto his lap, grinding yourself along his length. He sucks in a sharp breath in response, catching your nipple between his teeth and tugging.

You gasp, your hand grabbing a fist full of his hair and yanking his head back. He looks up at you with a menacing grin, his hands traveling to your hips and holding them tight in his grasp. “I wish you would have asked.” He repeats, that gentle tone gone again as he lines himself up with your entrance. “Because I would’ve been nice.. fucked you real sweet. But since you wanted to be a brat-“

He tightens his grip on your hips and brings you down onto his cock, stretching you open and causing you to cry out from the sting. He shushes you, leaning back to look between you with furrowed brows when his cock is met with resistance.

“Shit, and I’m not even all the way in.” He mocks, looking up at you while you tremble, trying to adjust to his size. “C’mon, baby. I thought you needed my cock?” He teases, taking hold of your thighs, spreading you open across his lap and fucking himself upward until he bottomed out. “You’re so fucking tight. Your pussy’s choking me.”

You felt all the air leave your lungs the moment he was fully seated inside you and as soon as his hands gripped your ass with bruising force, bouncing you up and down on him, you fell forward against his broad chest.

“F-fuck!” You gasped out, bracing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as rammed into you mercilessly. He let out a low chuckle, bringing his lips to your neck and pressing a kiss to your pulse point.

“You gonna make me do all the work?” He grunted out, nipping at the sensitive skin. You whimpered and brought your knees up, planting your feet on each side of him. Assuming control, you bounce yourself on his cock and desperately chasing the release that was building low in your abdomen.

“Atta girl.” He mumbled, his hand threading in your hair and pulling you to him. You crashed your mouth against his, your tongue teasing at his lips and he groaned as he parted them, meeting your tongue with his in a dance for dominance. You moaned into the kiss, grinding yourself down on him.

He snaked his hand between you, finding your clit and rubbing circles around it with his thumb, causing you to shake and cry out against his mouth as your vision blurred and a wave of ecstasy crashed over you. Your cunt clenched and fluttered around him and he broke the kiss, dipping his forehead to nuzzle against your temple.

“There you go, angel. That’s it. Come all over my dick.” He breathed against your ear, resuming control in the wake of your climax and fucking up into you again. “You’re dripping all over my balls, baby. Making such a mess. I should make you suck ‘em clean.”

Your body slackened from the force of your orgasm, your ears ringing as you nodded incoherently at his words. He delivered a swift slap to your ass and you gasped, arching your back in response. He grasped your ass cheeks in his large hands, spreading them as he lifted you up and slammed you back down onto him. “Don’t go all dumb on me now, not before I’ve fucked you full of my cum.” He warns, settling his hands against your lower back. “Lean back.”

You lean yourself back, his hands preventing you from falling and he pistons up into you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix and causing you to choke back a sob as you feel yourself climbing towards the edge again. “Bucky, I-“

His mouth parts and he lets out a low moan. “I know, baby. I got you. Gimme one more. C’mon.”

His words send you toppling over and you come hard with a strangled cry, your hands clawing desperately at his shoulders as he fucks you through your waves of pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum in this tight little cunt.” He chokes out, his hips stuttering as he drags you up and down his length, your body trembling in aftershock.

“You want that?” He asks through gritted teeth. “You need that?”

You’re unable to form words, only managing a frantic nod as he grunts, pulling you down flush to him, his cockhead smashing against your cervix. He lets out a deep, guttural moan as his cock twitches and spills inside your throbbing pussy, filling you with his thick, hot cum.

You both remain still as if neither of you want to be the first to pull away, your chests pressed together and heaving in the afterglow. His hand palms at your thigh and he sighs, letting his head fall back against the couch.

“You alright, angel?” He asks, looking down at you while your head rests against his shoulder. You nod, laying your hand flat against his chest. You can feel his heartbeat hammering in his chest under your fingertips, almost in rhythm with your own that’s pulsing in your ears. “Good.” He breathes out, running a hand gently through your hair. “Can you promise me something?”

You tip your chin up, looking up at him through your lashes. “What?” You ask softly, moving your hand to trace your fingertips along his jaw. The corners of his mouth quirk up into a smile and he cups your cheek, running the pad of his thumb gently across your bottom lip.

“Next time you need somethin’ from me? Just ask.”

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #marvel smut #avengers smut

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http-shield · 2 months ago

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whatever you say, old man- bucky barnes

~ bucky barnes x fem!reader ~tags/cw: post endgame but no one is dead and life is good, think 2012 Avengers fandom where clint is in the vents yeah that is where I'm at, established friendships, pining, yearning, bucky is not used to new age dating rituals, explicit language, sexual tension ~ wc: 2.6k ~ not proofread

You: Hey, are we still on for tonight? Rita’s at 7?

Him: ye

“So you’re telling me this is normal?” Bucky’s tone is judgemental as he quickly reads over the words on your screen.

You nod, wordlessly confirming that situatuonships are a staple part of the modern dating scene.

Bucky’s brows furrow, eyes flicking from the lack of effort text message to your face as you lean over the bed, phone gripped between expertly manicured fingers. He blinks once, twice, as if taking the time to formulate a response that will rebuke your earlier confirmation without hurting your feelings. This is new for him. A habit he has only recently picked up upon developing his friendship with you. He usually isn't as careful with his words, not caring enough about the recipient's opinion or emotional well-being to warrant enough time and consideration when responding, but with you. It was another ball game entirely. Bucky doesn't want to hurt your feelings, to see you frown because of something he has said; in fact, he wants the opposite. To see you smile and laugh and blush because of him. For you to want to talk to him about anything and everything, share thoughts about your day and how things make you feel. Bucky wants to know everything that happens in that pretty little brain of yours, even if he doesn't necessarily agree with it. Normally he would take the time to sugarcoat his words, sweeten his tone and make it easy for you to swallow but this is a situation where he couldn't, doesn't, want to mince his words.

“There is no world where that is normal.” He stares at you, expression bored and a little annoyed. At you? Never. At the man on the other side of the phone? Incredibly so.

You groan at his very true statement and pull away, slipping the phone into the pocket of your cargos as you turn towards your open closet.

He’s right. You know he is.

There is nothing remotely normal about two grown adults being in a relationship that is defined by the amount of time the other left the first one on read, or how much emotional vulnerability there could be put on the table before the other got too scared and ran. There is nothing normal about being in your late twenties and having a grown man introduce you to his friends as a 'buddy’ despite having an entire draw dedicated to you in his apartment but you can’t admit that, refuse to admit that you know its wrong and desperate and frankly, demeaning. If you can't own up to your own patheticness, how are you supposed to admit it to the man you are secretly interested in. There would be nothing more humiliating than confessing that the only reason you are with and putting up with bullshit efforts from this other guy is to hopefully distract yourself from the desperate need you feel for Bucky. This new guy is mediocre at worst yet attainable at best and that is something you will live with until your crush on the super soldier is dead and gone and you can finally focus on something other than him.

——

You had spoken with Natasha about Bucky last night, her voice a soothing purr over the phone as she encouraged you to disclose your concerns about pushing the boundaries on your friendship with the super soldier.

“The worst thing that can happen is he says no and then you both move on.” She croons, voice laced with comfort and reassurance.

“Wrong.” You shake your head despite being on a voice call. “The worst thing that can happen is he says no, I lose him as a friend and then I’m stuck pining after someone who wants nothing to do with me” You place another dish in the washer before continuing with your point. “Or I push him before he is ready, again losing him as a friend, and now I’m left with the guilt of possibly taking advantage of a war veteran.”

“You take advantage of Steve all the time, how is this any different?”

“I take advantage of Steve to get someone to carry in the groceries. I’m not trying to date Steve.”

Natasha huffs a laugh. “What if he is interested in you as well?”

Your hands stop scrubbing at the pan in the sink.

“I can find out.”

Heat fills your body, your stomach twists at the idea of having that information. It would put an end to the constant yearning you feel, but the thought of finding out he doesn’t like you that way, that he sees you as no more than a friend will destroy you, humiliate you beyond all logical reason and you would be forced to cut off the friendship out of pure self-preservation.

You shake your head again. “I’m good.” And return to scrubbing your pan. “I'll just wait out the crush and then move on.”

——

“This isn’t the 1940’s anymore.” You sigh and completely shift your attention from Bucky to the mess that is staring back at you.

Endless outfit options are strewn about the small closet but so far none of them have come together, just single shirts, skirts, and pants all muddled in a heap of black.

“I know it's not the 40s but I doubt relationships and dating have changed that much." Bucky grumbles from behind you, the bed creaking as he shifts.

Another sigh, this one long and exaggerated as you will the frustration to leave your body. You want to turn to him and explain that you know all this, and are very aware of the fact that nothing about your current predicament is what you want. You want to be wooed with flowers and preplanned dates and soft kisses on hands and longing looks but that’s not the reality of life anymore and having to be reminded of it is getting annoying and your heart is starting to ache at the lack of effort given to you by your current choice of dating partner.

“You know if I was taking..” Bucky starts but you quickly cut him off with a whine of his name.

“James, please.” You don’t turn to face your friend, afraid to even glance at him because you know you will crumble. “I need help picking out an outfit so help me or go back to your room.”

--------

“You know if I was taking…” You don’t let Bucky finish but, God did he want to. His name on your tongue was enough to shut him up, to send a flush rushing to his face in a way that no man his age should blush, but he can’t help it. There is something about the way his name falls from your lips that has his mind racing to thoughts that should not be there, should not appear when the picture of you enters his mind.

“You know if I was taking you on a date, you’d get flowers and chocolates and champagne and those little baby dolls you like” is what he wanted to say before you shut him up with an annoyed grumble.

His intention wasn’t to display how things were different back in his day but to indicate exactly what you’d be getting were you about to go on a date with him, to explain the reason why you should go on a date with him and not some loser who couldn’t even formulate a fully fleshed out text message. How if you were to drop that kid, and say yes to Bucky he would gather the moon on string for you, pick every flower in every field, find every single little Sonny Angel there is and give them to you each and every day for the rest of your life, you would never be sat wondering why he isn’t calling or responding, if you were even going out the next day, if he even liked you. Bucky would make his feelings for you so abundantly clear that even a blind man would be able to see the signs, but you are his best friend and best friends don’t feel that way about each other. It’s all platonic hugs and hair tussles, cheeky jabs at each other over coffee, shared trauma and secrets over whatever dinner you bring to his apartment and he yours. There will be no dates, or long hugs that turn into kisses that turn into you beneath him, whimpering his name as he makes you feel oh so good.

Fuck.

Bucky’s entire body is on fire, and he needs to stop thinking about the way you would feel wrapped around him, his mouth on yours, the taste of you sweet on his tongue.

“Okay, what about this?” you announce as you walk into the bedroom from the ensuite. “Too much?”

You stand in the doorway, dressed in plain jeans and a black shirt.

“Too much?” Bucky is confused. “This is the outfit you wore to breakfast this morning.”

He is right about this too. You had worn a very similar outfit this morning, but tonight isn’t a full-on date, a semi-date, where things shouldn’t be that fancy so why shouldn’t you recycle your outfits. Bucky stands from the bed, readying himself to dig through the mountain of clothes that had formed at the entrance to the bathroom. He crosses the small space and squats before the clothing, fingers expertly rifling through the material, quickly brushing over the lace of bras and panties, before finding purchase on a black dress he thinks he has seen you in before. It might have been the dress you wore to a funeral or press conference, either way, it was not alluring in the slightest, not that you weren’t stunning in everything you wore, hell you could come out wearing a garbage bag and Bucky would be in awe of your beauty. It was just that he didn’t want your date to ogle you, to think of you the same way Bucky does so he is being a little selfish and conniving in his choice of garment.

“Where is he taking you?” His question is disguised as interest in the dress code but his real curiosity is far from an outfit.

There are two reasons why he needs to know where you will be tonight. The first is to judge whether this manchild is even worthy of a date with you, second if he knew the exact location and time, maybe he could show up and show out your date, make you realise what you deserve and how Bucky could be the one who gives it to you.

“We’re meeting at Rita’s down the road and then might see a movie, maybe something else. I’m not sure yet.”

“He hasn’t planned anything?” Bucky whips his head around to you, finding you standing there looking incredibly embarrassed at the lack of effort. What the fuck happened in the years he was gone?

The defeated shake of your head is enough to have Bucky’s chest aching. He sits back on his haunches; the dress discarded back in the pile and gives the outfit another look as he decides on where to go from here. “Yeah, I think it’s too much.” He nods and stands up, brushing his hands as if he had just completed an excavation on some ancient site.

“Go change back into your sweats ‘cause there is no way I’m letting you go on a date with a guy who can’t even plan something.” He nods his chin towards the bathroom, more of an order than a suggestion.

He watches you tilt your head back as you groan in frustration. “I’m not going through this again, old man. This is how it works now.”

Now it’s Bucky’s turn to get frustrated. He takes a step towards you, hulking 6’0 frame rising to tower above you with a somewhat menacing glare, but you know he will never hurt you no matter how much you push his buttons.

“I’m not talking about what it used to be like, little girl.” The jab at your age/generational difference comes out before he can register it, but he notices how your eyes widen. “This is about getting what you deserve.”

He pushes in on the space between your bodies, now chest to chest as you square your shoulders, not ready to back down from an argument despite knowing you will not win.

“And what’s that?” you stare up at him, brows raised in anticipation of his answer. You aren’t sure where this is going. If you are going to receive another lecture or maybe even a verbal beatdown as to why your standards for men are so low, a common topic of conversation between you and Natasha, but instead you are met with a soft smile as his Vibranium hand is raised and brushes against your cheek.

“You deserve flowers and preplanned dates and wine and jewellery and everything you could ever want.” Bucky’s voice drops into a whisper, cold fingers trailing soothing lines against your heating skin. “You deserve a man worshipping you, to be on his hands and knees begging to take you on a date. Not some punk who can barely put together a sentence.”

You hold his gaze, blue eyes staring intently as you shudder in a breath. “Who’s going to do that, huh?” your voice is small, no longer filled with the same bravado you had not a minute ago. “You know anyone who wants to do that for me, you send them my way Bucko.”

His metal hand slips to your cheek to your jaw, fingers pressing into your pulse points so he can feel the speed at which your heart is racing.

“I’d do it.” He states matter-of-factly, eyes dipping to your lips. “I’d do anything for you.”

Breathing becomes a little bit too difficult as his human hand traces up your bare arm.

“Anything?”

Bucky nods and dips his head until his face is mere centimetres from yours. “You didn’t let me finish before, but I'd give you anything you’ve ever wanted.” Fingers move to cup your chin and tilt your head up. “You want flowers, I’m a florist. Moon? Stars? I’m getting Stark to build me a rocket. Anything you want, you’re getting it.”

“And if I want you on your hands and knees barking like a dog for me?” You smirk, the mental image of Bucky on his knees panting like a puppy has your stomach twisting.

“Put a collar on me and call me Spot 'cause I’m yours, doll.”

The confession has your eyes widening.

“I’m all yours, from now until whenever you’re done with me.” Bucky whispers, breathless.

“And what if I want you to kiss me?” you ask, knowing he is waiting for your permission to do just that.

Bucky crumbles, his expression falling from that of teasing into one of pleading.

“I want you to kiss me, James.” You whisper.

His resolve breaks and he presses his lips to yours. Softly and timidly, closed mouth and restrained but as your hands reach out to grip his waist, a delicate gasp slipping past your lips, does he deepen the kiss. His mouth opens over yours, lips slotting against your plush ones, tongue darting out to test to waters only to be met with your slackening jaw. Bucky’s grip on you tightens as he continues to kiss you, afraid to let you go in case this was one of the many, many dreams he had where he woke up alone and confused, but as you bite down on his bottom lip, he is brought back to reality. Your hands on his waist, pull him tighter against you, the softness of your body had Bucky’s mind wandering to places it should not be. You pull back, pupils blown wide and lips parted as you pant. Bucky is just as breathless, hands cupping your face with a gentleness he doesn’t think you’ve ever known from the way you stare up at him.

“You’re not going on that date.”

“Whatever you say, old man.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

a/n: eee this is my first avengers fanfic since like 2018 pls be nice I just need something happy to think about clint living in the airvents, thor eating poptarts era was my happy place

#http shield ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ #✮⋆˙ bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x oc #avengers oneshot #avengers fanfic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fluff

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