#buck barnes fan fiction

[buckyalpine]

Actor Bucky x civilian reader 

I’m feeling angsty. Fluffy. Just a thought. But like a long thought. 

-

You should have known this would happen eventually. 

You knew you should have put your phone down and gone to sleep hours ago. Scrolling through social media did nothing to ease you mind as you stared at the 100′s of posts that showed Bucky whispering in her ear with a boyish smile. A sickly feeling spread from your chest, up your neck and to your cheeks, the type of heat that made your throat constrict and your eyes burn. The lump in your throat was painful to swallow, blinking back tears when you clicked on a video that had been shot by the paparazzi and leaked to the press, all the news outlets having a field day with brand new pics of a budding Hollywood romance. 

“Well, there you have it folks! Looks like Winter is warming up over here, stay tuned for more updates” 

“Single no more? Things steam up on the set of The Winter Soldier” 

“Swipe to get a sneak peak on the hottest new romance everyone’s excited about”

You wanted to throw your phone across the room, instead keeping your eyes locked on the way your boyfriend was cozied up with his co-star, the two of them seemingly giggling over an inside joke while taking a break between shoots. Her face was practically tucked into his neck while he laughed, both of them apparently blissfully unaware someone was watching. 

The image turned blurry from unshed tears, squeezing your eyes shut, turning your phone off all together. Your deepest insecurities reared their ugly head, thinking about Bucky’s effortlessly gorgeous co-star with her tall and slim build with curves in the right places. They looked like a dream couple; both attractive with obvious chemistry on screen and based on the “leaked photos”, in real life as well. Every single fear you had over the last few weeks were proved to be true with a few viral pictures. 

- 

Bucky groaned, silencing his phone after getting yet another unknown caller asking him if he’d care to comment on the latest headline about him and the lead actress in his upcoming movie. He ran his hand over his face seeing the way social media blown up overnight after someone had taken pictures taken out of context making it look like he was smitten and in love. His PR team insisted that a few candid shots would be good for promoting the movie and great for his image; when he agreed to having hired paparazzi's take a few “spontaneous” pictures, he thought it would be pictures with the whole cast; not just suggestive close up shots with his co-star that appeared intimate. 

Great.

He’d tried to call you repeatedly, every single one going straight to voicemail and all his texts unanswered. It had been a days since the new broke out and nothing had died down. Bucky hated that he was miles away from you, unable to even send anyone to check on you after you both agreed to keep the relationship a secret. The only person in his life who knew was his best friend, Steve, who was also on set. You’d been so understanding of his career, you hadn’t told a soul to make sure nothing ever leaked. Bucky knew you were used to a few rumors popping up every now and then about him and a potential new girlfriend but this was the first time there was photo evidence. 

New stories popped up like weeds. 

The last straw for him was when he spotted a magazine cover talking about his upcoming wedding and speculation over if there was a secret child on the way.

He couldn’t care less about PR or the movie anymore. A text to the director later, he was in his car driving off straight to you, carefully weaving through traffic while making a pitstop with his best disguise of a hat and sunglasses before speeding off once more. 

-

You sighed at the new stories that were still being posted on your social media feed, locking your phone once more to go back to the book you were reading. You’d ignored all of Bucky's attempts to reach out, choosing to spend less time on your phone, already drowning in insecurities and doubt. You took out a bunch of books from the library and spent more time the kitchen hoping anything would help take your mind off of the love of your life having an affair with another woman. 

The sound of the doorbell pulled you away from your book; you weren’t expecting anyone and it wasn’t usual for any of your friends to stop by in the middle of the afternoon. You were going to ignore it, thinking it was probably someone attempting to sell you something but-

“Y/n, doll I know you’re home, it’s me baby” 

Oh.

Your felt your stomach drop. Heart beating so fast, you could feel your veins tremble in your finger tips. He rang the bell again in hopes that you’d even hit him, smack him, happy to take it, anything to at least see you again. Your emotions swarmed all over the place, anxiety, anger, love, all of it fighting for dominance while you stayed glued to your spot on the couch. 

Asshole.

But that was your Jamie.

Dick.

But you loved him with your whole heart. 

“Babygirl” Bucky pleaded outside of your door, realizing the giant teddy that was 4 times his size and flower bouquet of 100 red roses did nothing to keep him discreet. “Sweetheart, please let me explain” 

You reluctantly opened the door, more worried that if someone saw Bucky at your door, a crowd of fans would end up swarming the area. If not for all the other emotions you were feeling, you almost giggled at the sight of a very wide, puppy eyed Bucky holding a stuffy that was larger than him and a bouquet of flowers that nearly covered his face. You wordlessly stepped out of the way while he dragged the comically large bear into the living room, placing the roses in its caramel fuzzy paws before turning to you.

You.

His pretty doll.

He could see your eyes were still puffy from nights of crying. Your lips were glossy from the balm you used when they were chapped after you’d nervously chew on them. Your poor little nose he loved to boop and kiss so much looked dry from how much you sniffled. Those gorgeous eyes he loved to stare into refused to even look at him, looking at your fluffy sock clad feet instead. You were still wearing a large hoodie of his but you probably hadn’t noticed when you slipped it on. 

Bucky hated it. 

His poor precious doll was so hurt all because of a stupid PR stunt. 

“Baby” You stood rigid as Bucky stepped towards you, his hand coming to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin, “Those pictures, they were taken out of context darling, they weren’t meant to come out like that-

“Then how were they meant to come out” You frowned, moving away till Bucky’s hand dropped, a sad sigh leaving his lips. 

“The team-they thought a few random, candid pictures would garner some publicity to get people talking. I thought they’d post pictures of everyone together, not just me and her”

“That doesn’t explain why you were so close to her” You fidgeted with the long sleeve of the hoodie, this time letting Bucky reach out to hold your hands though you left them limp while he gently squeezed them. “So that was all you then? That’s even worse Bucky” 

“No baby, no” Bucky frantically shook his head, pulling you closer with his hands now on your waist, “I pushed her away the second she got too close but apparently finding your co-star insufferable isn’t good PR. I looked irritated in all the other pictured so they didn’t use them. I promise baby, I’d never do anything to hurt you. I know I did and I’m so sorry, doll” 

While a part of you believed him, the other part of you couldn’t digest the fact that the rest of the world still thought they were a dream couple. It shouldn’t have mattered. But it did. You didn’t even want to begin to imagine the headlines that would pop up if the public saw you with Bucky. You couldn’t scrub the image away of how perfect they looked together, feeling frumpy and awkward in comparison.

“I can’t be like her Bucky” You struggled to keep your voice steady, not willing to cry in front of someone who clearly could do better even if he looked like he was ready to fall on his knees for you.

And then he did. 

“Y/n, I don’t want you to be her. Or anyone else, I want you” Bucky looked at you with pleading eyes, taking your hands in his and kneeling, pressing his lips to your knuckles. 

“But no one else thinks I deserve you. I thought I’d be okay with you maintaining a single image, I know it’s important for your career but I-I can’t watch interviews with people talking about how perfect you look with someone else, how you both look so in love-

“I’m done”

“What?” Your heart stopped, your hands shaking wondering if done meant he was done dealing with your worries, your insecurities, done with you-

“You’re the one I want. Not anyone else. I couldn’t care less about what others think baby, not when it’s hurting you so much. I want people to know who I’m in love with”

“But-

“If you’re not comfortable with it, I understand. But I don’t want to hide you anymore angel. Never again” 

Movie Premier 

You swallowed thickly, your heart beating out of your chest, fidgeting with the gown you had been dressed in, nervously twirling the ring on your finger. The limo came to a halt, the driver opening the door to a sea of screaming and cheers, a plush red carpet ready for you to step onto. 

“Ready, princess?” Bucky grinned, stepping out of the limo and reaching his hand out for you to take, helping you step out of the car. You gasped at the flashes of cameras and shrieks of fans coming from all sides, everyone trying to get Bucky’s and your attention. 

“James! Over here! Who is your date for the night?” 

“Miss! Miss!” 

“Over there, darling”, Bucky whispered in your ear while you smiled at a different set of photographers, each of them clambering over another to get the best picture of you both. 

“Could you step over here please, great, now one with the young lady, beautiful, James, one more!” 

Bucky simply smiled and nodded, keeping his hand around your waist, guiding you down the red carpet and stopping for more pictures along the way. He skillfully avoided the reporters who called for him, keeping a protective grip around you as you both entered the hall to get seated. Hardly moments later, headlines had already started spreading everywhere, your phone blowing up with messages from friends and family wondering if they were seeing the news articles correctly: 

James Barnes steps out with Mystery woman

Secret lover? James Barnes shocks fans with his premier date

10 things we know about James’s girlfriend

You giggled at the numerous posts that started to pop up on social media, your heart fluttering at the beautiful pictures of Bucky looking at you with heart eyes in every single one. There wasn’t one where he was looking anywhere else, focused on you the entire time and clearly people had noticed. You couldn’t help but feel warm and fuzzy at the comments people left, silencing all the doubts you had in your mind.

Get you a man that looks at you the way he looks at her

No wonder he was hiding her, shes gorgeous

I love him but like can someone tell me who SHE is?!

Look at him, he looks like an absolute puppy around her

She’s perfect for him, they’re babies are gonna be BEAUTIFUL 

There goes my chance. I can’t even be mad cause he looks so happy and they look so cute

“What you reading there, baby” Bucky kissed your shoulder, peering over to see what you were looking at on your phone before slipping it away into your clutch. He smirked, sneakily nipping your ear lobe making you gasp before continuing to whisper in your ear. “They’re right you know. You look so beautiful baby, gonna rip this dress off as soon as we get to the hotel room”

“You can’t rip it Bucky, I have to give it back-” You hissed but he wasn’t having any of it, his hand moving to squeeze your thing, grazing your skin from the slit on the dress. 

“I’ll pay for it. But you’re right, I won’t rip it. We’re keeping it, I wanna fuck you all type of ways in that-

“Oh my god” You hushed him with a peck to his devilish lips, your face hot while he gave you a smug smile. He couldn’t wait for the news that would go wild in the next few months.

James Barnes proposes to long time girlfriend, y/n y/l/n

Ready to tie the knot? James and fiancée spotted at wedding venue 

Welcome Mr. and Mrs. Barnes!

James and y/n fly to the Amalfi coast for Honeymoon 

Happy Anniversary to Hollywood's favorite couple

Baby bump or food baby? Y/n Barnes steps out in oversized hoodie for a late night food run

Baby Barnes on the way? 

Double trouble? James reveal’s he and his wife are expecting twins 

y/n Barnes posts first pictures of babies and they couldn’t be cuter 

Bucky couldn’t wait. 

[saltsicklover]

Fan Mail - Part 1/2?

Title: Fan Mail

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2500

Rating: T

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Death/Murder - Let me know if I missed anything.

-- I am writing a part 2 for this, might even drift into a part 3. I don't see it going longer than that because I struggle writing long form stories. I hope you enjoy! --

Disclaimer: I do not own Bucky Barnes, or anything related to Marvel within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

Bucky has never gotten fan mail. Ill wishes and empty threats via the postal service sent from all over the world, sure, that's old hat by now. But, a well wish or a 'thank you' have never been penned for him. Those sentiments are reserved for the real heroes, not Bucky, definitely not Bucky. At least, that's what he tells himself every time he ends up empty handed while everyone else in the tower is ripping open letters. 

Every Thursday fan mail from the week gets brought to the common room of the tower. Each stack is bound together with a flimsy rubber band, each pile threatening to burst through the rubber being pulled taught against the paper. This has gone on for as long as anyone can remember, always a pick me up from the tough battles the Avengers always found themselves in. 

"You'll get something, Buck, don't worry," Steve tries to sooth Bucky with a firm grip on his friend's shoulder, "The mail isn't even important anyway." Bucky can't help but huff as he eyes the bulging pile of letters in Steve's hand, his fingers gripping the mail so tight Bucky thinks they might combust under the pressure. 

"Yeah, Steve, it's all good," Bucky manages, the crease between his eyebrows deepening. Neither bother to exchange another word, Steve just squeezes his friend's shoulder before heading down the hall. 

Bucky lets his eyes wander over each member of the team that still resides in the room, each with at least a handful of letter's in their possession.  He tries to push the uneasy feeling from his chests, the deep green envy sneaking in between the cartilage that partners his ribs with his sternum. 

The next week, is more of the same, and so is the week after that. Wanda likes to curl up on one of the plush chairs in the common area, letters in her lap as she carefully opens each one. She barely lets her fingertips touch the paper, the envelopes opened carefully with her fingernail. She keeps her hold to the outside edges of the cards, like she is worried that if she touches the words they may disappear. 

Sam likes to lean against the island in the kitchen, spreading the contents of each envelope out in front of him, taking each piece in like a mission report. He gets photos of women, with flirty words scrawled across the backs. Each note smelling of a different sweet perfume that always seems to give Bucky a headache as he walks by. 

Clint and Natasha open their letters together, sitting on the floor in her bedroom. Laughter flowing through the open door as Bucky passes. He tries not to focus on his lack of correspondence but that's always easier said than done. He is just thankful that most of the team views their letter opening as an alone-time activity so he doesn't have to witness the joy that radiates through them with each envelope they open. 

Bucky doesn't even bother to stop by the common room on Thursday mornings anymore, his brain has given up on the idea that he will get a letter, his heart following close behind. 

One unusually cold Thursday, the fresh spring flowers outside threatening to wilt form the cold snap, each bundle of letters is placed neatly on the coffee table; accompanied by a singular letter addressed to "Mr. James Barnes".  Steve spots the letter first as he browses over the piles in front of him. He snaps his eyes quickly back to the lone envelope and unbridled joy swells in his chest from somewhere deep in his soul. 

"Bucky!" He yells, his eyes never leaving the paper on the coffee table. "Bucky, get in here!" Steve can't help but let the newfound joy escape with his words, a wide smile spreading over his face as Bucky walks into the room. The smile make's Steve's cheeks hurt, but all he notices is the grumbling coming from his best friend as the brunet trapses into the room. 

"What is it Steve?" Bucky carefully pinches the bridge of his nose with his right hand, his left arm folding defensively over his body to hold the elbow of his right arm, the whole manner done without thought. 

"You got a letter," Steve speaks, the words coming out in a jumbled heap from his lips. Bucky cracks one eye open at him, staring at the blond across the room from under his dense eyebrows. Excitement sparks deep in his chest, glowing like a barely lit ember deep in the darkness. Each passing second causes his excitement to grow like flame overtaking dry grass but he does everything in his power to stomp out the feeling before it overtakes him. The words hang in the air, neither man daring to move. Bucky cracks his other eye open as he lowers his hand from his face, lacing his thick arms across his chest. "Did you hear me, Jerk?" 

"Yeah, Punk, I heard ya', just not sure if I believe ya', that's all," Bucky moves, each stride filling him with more anxiety as he gets closer to the coffee table. He tries to tell himself that Steve isn't just playing some cruel joke on him, and that maybe, just maybe, someone out there actually wants to write him a letter, but his negative thoughts get the better of him as he comes to stand next to Steve, a scowl burned deep into his features. 

"What is it, Buck?" Steve takes Bucky's shoulder in his hand, squeezing it reassuringly with a too tight grip. Bucky doesn't bother to look at his friend, his eyes are too focused on the lone envelope sitting on the coffee table, his name scrawled across it in blue pen. Steve watches as Buck's scowl melts into confusion, his eyes trailing over the ink again and again and again, almost like he doesn't believe it's there. All the brunet can manage to do is read his name, offering his friend a slight shake of his head at the question, or maybe it's at the situation all together. 

Bucky leans over to grab the letter, taking it carefully between his fingertips. Suddenly he understands why Wanda barely touches her mail, the feeling that it may go up in cinders from his touch prickles deep within his stomach. He has known all kinds of fear and anxiety, but this is a new feeling all it's own. 

Steve leaves the room without a word, leaving Bucky standing there alone, the beige envelope balances delicately on his fingertips, palms facing the sky like he's begging for a answer to an unspoken prayer. 

Bucky doesn't open the letter for weeks, and nobody says a word about it. Hell, nobody but Steve knew it existed until it fell out of the breast pocket of his leather jacket when he sat down for dinner. Tony wanted to tease him about it, but the warning looks that he received left him coughing up his miss sipped iced tea instead. 

Bucky found himself taking in the details of the envelope whenever he could, between missions and meetings, at night before bed or in the morning over his first cup of coffee. The blue ink on the front has smudged a bit from when he got caught out in the rain, but the soft tan of the envelope and the striking depth of the ink still draws his eyes. The stamp placed delicately in the upper right hand corner was adorned with a beautiful yellow butterfly had been stamped over with an official marker for the postal service. There is no name, just a PO box located in New York City. The thought of his name alone on the envelope left a tinge of loneliness in his heart if he thought about it too long. 

When Bucky finally gets the courage to open the letter, three weeks had passed. He sits on the corner of his bed, the lamp from the bedside table illuminating his careful movements as he slips a finger under the seal. Carefully, he tears it open, pulling out a couple of pieces of paper, folded over on themselves. They are the same color as the envelope, the ink the same too. He holds the paper under the lamp, letting his eyes drift over each sentence, word, letter. 

"Dear Mr. James Barnes, I hope this letter finds you well. I would like to start off by saying that I was unsure about writing this letter to begin with, but my therapist says that by writing it I may be one step closer to healing, so I decided to give it a shot. You don't know me, so this might seem odd, but give me a chance anyway, please. 

When I was nine, a man broke into my home, the home I shared with my grandparents. I didn't know it then, nor did I for some time, but my grandparents were holding onto some information that I later came to learn was for Hydra. My grandfather's father worked for a man named Arnim Zola, and he had stolen files from him. Those files were passed down to my grandfather. 

Now I don't know that much about what my grandparents did for Hydra, or why they were holding information for them, but I do know that they were cruel and abusive towards me. They would send me to sleep, often without food for nights at at time. My grandfather was keen on hitting me with a leather belt. I won't bore you with the details. But, that night the man broke into our home, I knew from that moment that my whole life was going to change, so I hid in the coat closet while the man shot them. I know I should feel guilty for not helping them, but all I could feel was the relief that they would never harm me again. Besides, they passed quickly.

It is odd to feel so thankful for such an act of violence, but that man saved my life, and for that I am eternally grateful, which is why I write to you now. When everything with the bombing of the Sokovia Accords happened, I finally put together that the the Winter Soldier was the man who saved me. 

I know that part of your life is long behind you, but from one suffering soul to another, I just want you to know that you saved me, and I can't thank you enough. I hope this is able to provide you with some sort of closure, or healing, just like I am hoping it will for me. 

With warmest regards-"

Bucky can't help but read the words over and over again as a sickening feeling twists deep in his stomach. The first letter he has ever gotten as a hero, in this new life of his, is really written the darkest version of himself that he wishes he could forget. Hell, he would flay his skin open himself if it meant that he could undo his trespasses made at the hands of Hydra. 

Maybe its the salt sick sweat that coats his skin or the trembling of his heart beat through his veins but Bucky feels sick. The type of sick that makes you want to wash yourself from the inside out, yet he can't stop reading the words. 

He doesn't sleep that night. Or the next. Or that week for that matter. Steve is the only one to notice the sudden shift in his best friend. He urges the older man to speak, to lean on him for support but Bucky refuses, the sick feeling settling deep in his bones whenever he thinks about the letter. Maybe it's because deep down, beneath every single bit of self loathing, the acquiesce of bile soaked enmity he feels proud. 

He knows he shouldn't, the brunt edges of his life too fragile, the healing too slow, but the jewel of his ego only seems to feed off of the words scribbled in that letter. Even after all of the disaster, destruction, and death he caused, something good actually came out of it, and for that he feeds the feeling in his chest- the satisfaction that drowns out the loathing. 

The next letter Bucky receives comes a month and a half after the first, the PO box in the corner of the envelope the same as before. His stomach twists at the sight but his heart pounds with a sort of excitement he hasn't experienced in years. 

"Dear Mr. James Barnes, I hope this letter finds you well. I hope that you have received my last letter and that you got the chance to sit down and read it. I am sure you get so much mail all the time and part of me worries that my little envelope got lost in the shuffle of it all.

I must say, though I told myself over and over not to expect you to write back, I have to admit that I am a little saddened that you didn't. I know you can't possibly write back to everyone that sends you a letter but I couldn't help but get my hopes up. 

I have talked about the last letter with my therapist, and I think it helped me find a new sort of closure for that part of my life. Now, however, my heart seems to be missing something to dwell on, or possibly look forward to, which is why I am writing you again. 

I hope this isn't too forward but I was hoping that maybe we could be pen pals. I know it sounds old fashioned, maybe a little silly, but it's always a 'no' if you don't ask, right?" 

With Warmest Regards-" 

Bucky reads and rereads the letter again, a feeling of confusion and excitement swirling together in his chest. He can feel his heart beat below his skin, pulse thrumming hard and fast. He can't help the joy that courses through him at the words on the page, simple and blue, jotted down quickly by the way the ink flows together letter to letter. 

Maybe he will write back, the thought nags him every free moment that he finds himself in. It also nags him during meetings and on mission. He can't help but try picture their face, but the nothing comes to mind except a feeling of happiness, or maybe even pride, and it swells in his chest leaving him a new form of breathless. 

Bucky carries both letters with him, tucked deep into the chest pocket of his jacket, or under the suit he wears for mission. The letters pressed close to his heart. He takes comfort in knowing they are there, that someone is out there, thankful for his existence. He is thankful, too. 

Maybe he will write back, he tells himself just before he turns out the light to go to sleep. Maybe he will, maybe, maybe maybe. 

[blurryfangirlansuke]

Now you maybe wondering that about me being absent one of them is college I can't control that it depends on my degree and planning what I want to do in my adult life. Also I want to get this out of my chest. I'm perfectly fine when people tell my obsession with Duke goes too far causing me to lose friends or just being all over a character that doesn't exist. I understand and I do apologize if I make feel people uncomfortable and when ask people if they can draw myself and Duke together they don't have to I make it very optional and I have plenty of other characters to simp for but Duke is #1 he'll always be. He's the reason why I'm being stable from being lonely and stress between reality and trying to become independent. It's not easy when your autistic and have social anxiety and learning different ways of how to do things. Duke is a comfort and I believe everyone should have a comfort character if not then perhaps your best friend or family .

Whenever I see a picture of Duke or art heck even gifts people draw for me it makes me touched and happy because I love this vampire and yes he's fictional but it's fun to simp and also appreciate the creator who put there heart and soul making characters to adore and even be interested with there stories and series.

Another thing I get so happy is when I commission the creator of the series Duke's plays the lead one along with Missi the vampire who tolerates him. The creator absolutely knows me so well and always spoils me with amazing commissions of me and Duke also she's close and appreciates fans like me for liking character such as Duke . Also buying loads of merchandise from the creator's store and main do I go buck while on everything worse then going to a barns and noble xD.

I am a busy person who gets free time and sometimes not so much. I'm working on my degree, learning the good and bad things in life even if I don't understand. I attend to also write my fanfics whenever I get the chance to take a break on drawing nonstop art of Duke. It also gives me ideas for myself if I ever want to make a character of my own and I know one day the character is going to be inspired by many artists I admire if you see what I usual post xD.

I have dreams of being with Duke in real life like he stays with me in my campus, we go for nightwalks, I lay in his coffin or king size bed and talk for hours. I wake up and he's not there with me. I know this feeling is loneliness which I'm use to since I have a hard time reaching out to people and the art I do might probably not spark interest. I miss my sister who's in college we have a great bond, I love my parents always support me, I have friends and fans online here that support me.

However I really wish I didn't feel this way. I know I attend to seek help with my advisors or talk to my sister it does help. I'm not normal and then okay because hey we all special and unique in our ways. Duke is fictional but he's my happiness and true comfort and I'll always love him even if I want to strangle him.

Yes I've been a little depressed and overwhelmed but that's life we have our good days and bad days. Crying does help me let everything out and start a better day. Eventually this blog will also get more hearts soon and also I have to be present for that to happen which I try. I appreciate you listening to me and I don't want end things sad especially since this is me and Duke's month so I made a healing art piece and color it about us. I really appreciate the support and love you all give me. This helps me to stay motivated and keep going. Don't worry I'll post more things and happy stuff. Letting this vent things pass.

Thank you for listening and much love you all Spooklings 🥰

[logansdogmotif]

welcome to my blog!!

this is far from the final iteration of this post so, um,, sit tight

hi! i'm logansdogmotif (my real true birthname i promise you) and i'm 15 and from the uk!

my ao3 ↓

https://archiveofourown.org/users/saracenruedoesntknowthings/pseuds/saracenruedoesntknowthings

under the cut is my dnis, main fandom list, blog navigation, and kinlist! if you're feeling really cute and cunty you can commission me to write you a fanfiction or draw you some fanart from any of the fandoms below (dm me i'll tell you what i'm comfortable with on a case by case basis!)

DNIs:

racist

homophobic

transphobic

zionist

far right politically

ughh other bad things i will update

MAIN FANDOM LIST

skulduggery pleasant

x-men (specifically cherik + wolverine)

interview with the vampire

lord of the rings/the hobbit

yellowjackets

succession

buffy: the vampire slayer

9-1-1

newsies

spring awakening

rent

if we were villains

it

agatha all along (only for patti and the lesbians i promise)

rivals (tv 2024)

BLOG NAVIGATION

i won't put tags on anything that isn't initially mine so if you wanna find any of my original yapping or art or fan fiction or something it'll be tagged with 'loganyaps' and if you wanna find art i've done just filter 'art' and etc. <3

KINLIST

- saracen rue (skulduggery pleasant)

- richie tozier (it)

- racetrack higgins (newsies)

- kíli durin (the hobbit)

- courfeyrac (les misérables)

- enjolras (les misérables)

- daniel molloy (interview with the vampire)

- pippin took (lord of the rings)

- troy barnes (community)

- logan howlett (x-men)

- alternate timeline movies charles xavier (x-men)

- mark sloan (grey’s anatomy)

- evan “buck” buckley (9-1-1)

- rupert giles (buffy: the vampire slayer)

- stan pines (gravity falls)

- ford pines (gravity falls)

- tk strand (9-1-1: lone star)

- finnick odair (the hunger games)

- santana lopez (glee)

- alexander vass (if we were villains)

- ilse neumann (spring awakening)

- rusty ryan (the ocean’s trilogy)

- warren rhodes/rojas (daisy jones and the six)

- ian malcolm (jurassic park)

- ben wyatt (parks and recreation)

- nick miller (new girl)

- roger davis (rent)

- both jedidiah and octavius (night at the museum)

- remus lupin (the marauders fandom - fuck jk rowling also i kind of hate atyd sorry not sorry)

- lilia calderu (marvel comics/agatha all along)

- jeremy “jez” usbourne (peep show)

- luke danes (gilmore girls)

- g(a)linda upland (wicked)

[jobean12-blog]

He’s so🔥🔥🔥his words omg! The way he left her too…promises promises and I LOVE IT!❤️

slaughter

Pairing: dark!Winter Soldier x f!reader (any race)

WC: 2.1k

Summary: The Soldier has been watching you for some time now, but tonight he will finally act on his urges.

Warnings: dark!!, stalking, knife play, pet names [little lamb], smut [p in v], oral [m receiving], degredation

part 2: contagious | full masterlist | bucky masterlist

When you first noticed the feeling, you'd thought you were crazy—the feeling of eyes on you, of someone following you. But when you looked around, you saw nothing. 

It used to be easy to convince yourself that no one was there, but you saw him yesterday. 

You saw him slip around the corner as you whipped around. He didn't move quite fast enough for you not to catch a glimpse of his dark eyes and built frame. 

Tonight, you sit on your bed and stare at the window, unable to tear your eyes away from it. You're sure you saw him; you'd recognize those eyes anywhere. 

But the longer you sit, the heavier your eyelids get. It isn't long before you're asleep, unaware of the man climbing up the side of the building and sliding your window open. 

You don't hear as he slips through the window frame and steps into your room. 

The Soldier stands beside your bed and watches your chest rise and fall with every breath.

He has never seen anything like you, anyone so beautiful. 

It didn't start innocently, but he wouldn't have it any other way. He saw you walking down the street and couldn't help himself. 

Your shy nature, the way you cowered out of the way of oncoming people. It called to him. 

You shift in your sleep, and he runs his metal fingers down your bare arm. You'd fallen asleep in a pair of short flowy sleep shorts and a tank top. 

"Hm, little lamb, you've dressed so perfectly for me tonight." 

You stir at the sound of his words. Your eyes flutter open, and you freeze under his cold gaze. 

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He leans over you, dropping his head down beside you. 

You try to shift away, but his hand shoots out and grips your chin. 

"Hello, my lamb," he whispers, holding your face close. 

"Who- who- who are you," you ask, voice shaking. 

The Soldier shakes his head, not finding it necessary to answer your question. 

Instead, he dips his head and breathes you in, taking in your scent, your softness. Somehow, even though he is right beside you, finally being able to smell you makes you more real to him.

"Please, I'll do anything," you shudder, "please don't hurt me." The Soldier returns his gaze to you and smirks. 

"My poor little lamb." The Soldier stands at his full height, towering over you. "All I want to do is hurt you."

You don't dare take your eyes off him as his hand snaps to his belt. When his hand comes back into view, you see the glint of a blade practically glowing in the moonlight.

You can't help the whimper that escapes your lips at the sight of it. The Soldier twirls it through his fingers with an elegance that, for some reason, doesn't surprise you.

It's hard not to imagine what he's going to do to you with the blade, if he'll make it quick or if he'll draw it out. Judging by the deadly look on his face, you think it'll be the latter.

He runs the knife down your cheek, the sharp point grazing your skin as it glides. 

"I want to ruin you, to paint you with the darkness that flows through my veins. My sacrificial lamb, ready for the slaughter."

You shiver under his gaze; your heart races. 

"P-please," you whimper, not even sure what you're begging for. 

"You're pathetic," he whispers. "My pathetic little lamb."

He drops his head and runs his nose along your neck. The hand gripping the knife stays by your face, a reminder of the danger the man above you could commit. 

His other hand grips your waist before slipping down to your pussy. 

You jolt at the feeling of him touching you, but the man's grip on you keeps you from knicking yourself on the blade.

He lets his fingers graze over the fabric covering you, ghosting touches that send electricity up your spine. 

You know it's fucked up, oh my god, so fucked up, but you crave more. You want him to touch you, to really touch you.

And he knows.

"You're so fucking needy," he taunts, not giving in to your wishes.

Your body thrums with energy, pulses under his touch, and he knows how much you crave him.

He's only been in your room for a few moments, yet here you are, already wrapped around his finger.

"I knew you'd be a good little lamb for me the moment I laid eyes on you," he chuckles, giving you a little more pressure against your clit. "I saw you, and I knew."

You feel yourself getting wetter at his words. It's like he bore into your head and discovered all your deepest fantasies.

"I knew I'd be able to get you on your knees, ready to please me. Are you gonna prove me right?" He asks, pressing the palm of his hand against your clit.

You arch into him, feeling the blade's sharp edge against your cheek.

"Answer me," he commands.

"Y-yes," you nod, not caring about the possibility of cutting your cheek on his knife.

"Good girl." The Soldier stands and removes the knife from your face, but he doesn't put it away. 

His metal arm reaches out and grips you by your hair, tugging you up and off the bed and onto the floor. 

You land on your knees in front of him, staring up at the mountain of a man.

His gaze is deadly as he unbuckles his belt with just one hand. 

Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock bobbing out of his pants when he finally opens them. 

The Soldier's metal fingers lace through your hair as he guides your lips to his cock.

"Show me how good you can be," he grunts as your breath ghosts over him.

You nod as best you can with his fingers in your hair and lick up his shaft to his tip.

It's a challenge fitting him in your mouth, but the sound he makes as your wet tongue slides over him makes you try even harder.

"Fuck, you feel so good, little lamb. Just like I knew you would." You lose yourself in the action of pleasing him; you don't care how messy you're being or what you look like. All you care about is making him feel good.

He presses you further down on his cock, and you sputter around it. The Soldier's hips stutter and heat licks in your belly at the thought that you make him lose control.

You don't notice you're pressing your thighs together until he scolds you for it. 

"I'll fuck you when you've proven to me that you're worthy of it," he grunts, pressing you down on his cock until your nose hits his pelvis. 

He roughly pushes you off his dick, and you suck in a few deep breaths, spit dripping off your chin. 

"Come here and clean up your fucking mess," the Soldier commands. 

You move to stand, but he shakes his head; you know what he wants. 

After another breath, you get on your hands and knees and crawl back toward him. 

"What a good little lamb," the Soldier whispers as you begin to clean the spit off his cock with your tongue.

You stare up at him, loving the way his brow furrows in concentration while you clean him. You love how his fingers tighten in your hair, gripping and pulling, making your scalp ache. 

He pulls you off of him with a pop, and it's as if he can read your mind. 

"You want me to fuck you?" He asks, fake sympathy coating his voice. 

"Please," you reply, voice hoarse. Your clit is pulsing with need, and you find yourself pressing your thighs together again to relieve the pressure. 

"Hm, I like when you're begging." The man tightens his grip on your hair as he nods, watching saliva drip down your chin. He tugs you onto the bed, releasing you for only a moment before gripping your ankles and positioning you the way he wants you.

He presses your face into the mattress, your ass high in the air. 

You hear the flick of his knife open, and you shiver with anticipation of what is to come. 

The chill of the blade is just noticeable enough for you to feel it run down your spine. The Soldier puts just enough pressure on it to cut open your tank top but not cut you. The fabric falls from your back and pools at your hands. He cuts open your shorts and panties next, leaving you bare for him.

"Time for you to take what I give you," he grunts, positioning himself behind you. The mattress dips with his weight, and you can feel the heat radiating from him.

He rubs his cock against you a few times, teasing you and making you squirm.

It's impossible to not whine as he teases you, impossible to keep your noises contained. "Fuck," you whimper as his cock bumps your clit.

"You're going to look so beautiful impaled on my cock," the man whispers, leaning over you to speak next to your face.

His voice is deep and gravelly, and it somehow turns you on more. He bites your earlobe, tugging it with his teeth as he pushes into you in a brutal thrust.

You groan at the feeling. He's so deep inside you, and the stretch burns a little with no preparation. 

"Oh my god," your voice comes out broken and weak; you can practically feel him feeding off your pitiful state.

"There is no god, little lamb." The man sits back up and begins to fuck you with long, deep strokes, hitting all the right spots inside you. 

His grip on your hips is the only thing holding you up; you are entirely and wholly at his mercy.

The Soldier uses your body in the way he's dreamed about since the moment he laid eyes on you. You feel even better than he thought you would; the way you squeeze him sends him spiraling.

He loves the way you look, the way you stare up at him with lust-blown eyes. He loves the way you gave in to him, the way you let him do whatever he wanted. 

As he fucks you now, all he can think of is how perfect you are. He made a good decision choosing you.

He especially loves the sounds you make. You're so vocal without realizing it. Every time he touches you, every time his cock brushes that spot inside of you, you're whimpering and moaning.

You respond so well; you're so good for him.

"My perfect little lamb," he grunts, picking up the pace of his thrusts.

You can't help but preen at his praise. "So fuckin' perfect, taking what I give you. You like it? Yeah? You like being fucked like a whore?"

No one's ever spoken to you like this, called you those names, but you love it. It makes you want him more. You press your hips back against him, urging him to fuck you more.

Your lack of response earns you a threat with his blade. He presses it against your spine again, this time harder.

"Answer me."

"Yes," you moan. "Yes, I love it so much." You hear his satisfied huff as his other hand leaves your hip to circle your clit.

Electricity shoots through you as he brings you to your peak. Your toes curl, and your back arches, taking everything he's giving you.

"You want to come?" He taunts, staggering his thrusts.

"Please, please, please," you beg wantonly, not caring how pathetic you sound.

"Well, when you ask so nicely," he replies, voice trailing off as he evens out his pace, bringing you right back to the edge.

It only takes a few more moments for you to explode. Your whole body shakes as you come.

The Soldier watches the beautiful sight in front of him, and it sends him over the edge; he spills into you and fucks it deeper and deeper into you.

You collapse onto the mattress, black creeping in on your vision.

You fall asleep, completely exhausted, before he leaves.

The Soldier watches your eyes dip closed, satisfied. A little voice in his head whispers to clean you up, and for once, he listens to it.

He carefully and gently cleans you up before placing a blanket over your sleeping form.

He remains in your room for a few more moments and only leaves when the sun begins to rise.

When leaves, it is with whispered parting words before slipping out the window.

"I will see you again, little lamb. Soon, very soon."

please let me know if you'd like to be added to my taglist &lt;3

tags: @peaches1958 @prettylittlepluviophile @writerwrites @w0nderw0mansw0rld @hawsx3 @meetmeatyourworst @harrysthiccthighss @goldylions @late-to-the-party-81 @luxeavenger @cloudyfeel @searchf0rtheskyline

a strikethrough your name means i couldn't tag you :/

[lochnesswriter]

Get To Know Your Fan-fiction Writer

Tagged by @snowviolettwhite

---

When Did You Post Your First Ever Fan-Fiction:

2018

First Characters You Wrote For:

-Eliot Spencer from Leverage and Dean Winchester from Supernatural, because I love crossovers lol

Main Characters You Currently Write For:

Bucky Barnes

TJ Hammond

Eliot Spencer

Quinn

TK Strand

Carlos Reyes

Characters You Haven't Written About Before But Plan On Writing About Soon:

Eddie Diaz

Fandoms You're Currently Writing For:

Leverage

9-1-1: Lone Star/9-1-1

White Collar

MCU

Political Animals

Stargate Atlantis

Platonic Pairings You Currently Write For:

Bucky & TJ

Bucky & Steve

Bucky & anyone

Quinn & TK (&Carlos)

Romantic Pairings You Currently Write For:

TK & Carlos (Tarlos)

Eliot, Quinn, & Neal

John Sheppard, Evan Lorne, & Cam Mitchell (I like polyamory y'all)

Top 3 Tags On Ao3:

Spanking

Alternate Universe- BDSM

Platonic BDSM

Your Current Platform Where You Post Your Works:

Ao3

Snippet Of A WIP You're Currently Working On:

This is from Buck's first introduction to my "A Boy, His Top, and His Cop" series

“Come on in,�� TK said, waving Buck into the apartment. “Carlos should still be at work, but-”

“Hey, kiddo.”

For a second, TK couldn’t quite believe it, but as soon as he turned away from Buck to check, there Quinn was, sitting on the couch and smiling softly. He’d been sad he wouldn’t see Carlos after that shift, but having his Dom here was just as reassuring in a different way. “Hey.”

“So, this is the boyfriend?”

Buck sounded a little skeptical, and TK couldn’t blame him. Quinn certainly didn’t look like a Carlos.

“No, this is Quinn,” he said, grinning at Buck before hurrying over to hug his Dom. “Quinn, this is Buck. He’s gonna be spending the night here.”

Quinn nodded at Buck as he stood to pull TK into a comforting hug. But all too soon he pulled back a little, hands still resting on TK’s shoulders, and raised an eyebrow at him. “So. I hear you stole a firetruck today.”

TK winced and shuffled to the side. “Technically, Buck stole it,” he said, hitching a thumb over his shoulder.

“Hey,” Buck protested, at the same time as Quinn asked, “You sure that’s the right move there, kiddo?”

TK gave Buck an apologetic shrug but turned his attention back to Quinn all the same. “Look, Quinn, we had to, okay? My dad was out there. We only barely got to him in time.”

“I know,” Quinn said, his voice soft. “But look me in the eye and tell me you don’t need to be punished for this.”

No pressure tags @actualalligator @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @mayalaen @trivalentlinks @friendly-chaos

[steves-on-a-plane]

Violets, Red Velvet & Our Song

Words: 1318 Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Bucky’s Song that Reminds them of Bucky: My Ideal (Frank Sinatra Version) Reader’s Song that Reminds him of Reader: Roll To Me - Del Amitri Prompt:“I brought u to my friend’s wedding as my plus one and it was really fun and all but now it’s the end of the night and we’re sitting alone together at the reception and all these twinkle lights and flowers everywhere are causing a hell of a lot of romantic tension between us and oohhhh no did our song just come on” AU from: @dailyau & @madiboomonkey

“Buck! Buck! Buck!” You knocked on the dorm room door of your Avenger best friend. You knew he’d be home because he always went to the gym with Steve early in the morning and took a nap around eleven after breakfast and a shower. You continued to bang and call his name knowing he’d have to answer eventually. The door opened after only a minute or two of noise making.

Buck stood in the doorway holding the door half-ajar. His shoulder length dark brown hair fell forward, and he looked down at you with piercing blue eyes. He’d obviously been napping because he was wearing only sweatpants. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his vibranium hand.

“Can I help you, [Y/N]?” He sighed. “I assume there’s some sort of international crisis since you are knocking down my door so violently.” He folded both arms across his chest.

“I-I uh…” You’d temporarily lost your train of thought, either due to his frighteningly impatient gaze or his perfectly chiseled muscles. “Wedding.” You remembered suddenly. “I came to ask you to come to my friend’s wedding. As my plus one. Please?”

“Me?” He snorted.

“I said please! Listen, my friends always rag on me for being the only single one and it would just be embarrassing to show up to this wedding alone.” You explained to him.

“Why don’t you ask Tony or Sam? They’re more the fun at the party type.”  He told you.

“Because you’re my best friend and I want to go with you. You’re like a human security blanket.” You shrugged.

“Well, at least I’m good for something.” He rolled his eyes.

“So, you’ll come?” You asked.

“I didn’t say…what day is it anyway? I’m busy that day.” He complained.

“You never even gave me a chance to answer.” You argued.

“Alright, alright. I’ll go.” He conceded at last. “But I want your piece of cake. Now go away so I can finish my nap.” Bucky swung his door so that it would close on its own. He walked off towards his bed without another word. You stopped the door with your foot just short of closing all the way.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You called before shutting the door all the way and leaving him to his nap.

“Cake is here!” You announced, carrying two plates of red velvet cake. “Two pieces for my best friend as promised.” You placed both slices in front of Bucky, not forgetting the promise you’d made to him months ago. Bucky gladly accepted the cake and started digging his fork into the closest piece.

“This is good cake.” He smirked. “I’m sure glad I have two pieces.” He teased.

“You don’t have to be so smug about it.” You rolled your eyes. “But you earned that cake. My friends are all really impressed that I managed to find a date. They even seemed to like you.”

“Don’t go getting any ideas in your head.” Bucky insisted, waving his fork at you. “We’re not going to let this become a thing. You know, you dragging me to weddings and me pretending to be your date. I don’t like cake that much.”

“Here I was thinking you’d come as a favor to me.” You chuckled. You looked away from him to study the wedding venue. “Rachel did a good job with the decorations though. The twinkling lights, the cute little color-coded candles everywhere…”

“The violets.” Bucky commented between bites of cake.

“Hmmm?” You glanced back over at him with surprise.

“The violets.” Indicated the floral centerpiece in the middle of the table you were sat at. It was a delicate arrangement comprised of violets, lilacs, and Purple and Pink roses. “I remember last year on your birthday you bought a flat of violets and planted them in flower boxes in your bedroom windows. You said that violets were your favorite flower.”

“You remembered that?” You asked with disbelief. It wasn’t like Bucky was an uncaring or inattentive friend, you just hadn’t expected him to remember your favorite flower. After all your birthday was months ago.

“Well, you remembered my favorite flavor of cake.” He pointed down at the slice and a half in front of him. “That’s what friends do. Speaking of which, you gotta help me eat some of this.” He sectioned off a piece of the cake with his fork and offered it out to you. Without a second thought you leaned forward and ate the bit that he offered you. Just then the bride, your friend Rachel, and her now husband came sweeping by.

“Oh [Y/N], you and James make such a cute couple! We’re glad you both could come!” She smiled and you exchanged a few pleasantries before the happy couple glided off to greet other guests. You sighed wondering how Rachel had gotten so lucky.

“Don’t do that to yourself.” He commented. “I’ve seen enough gals in my time pining over their friend’s perfect lives. You’re a successful and beautiful woman and you don’t have to live your life based on someone else’s timeline.”

“Wow Buck,” You smiled at him. “That’s a very modern and inspirational stance on things.” You picked up your fork and stole a bite of his cake.

“Yeah well, unlike Rogers, I’ve accepted that it’s not the 1940s anymore. I’ve had enough of my life determined by other people. I’ll be damned if I let them do the same to you.” Bucky put his fork down and pointed at the dance floor. “Say aren’t they playing that song that you always say reminds you of me?” You put your own fork down and listened.

“I can’t believe you remembered that too.” You whispered to yourself.  

“Well, you dragged me to this wedding, will you do me the honor of at least one dance? Only if you want to of course.” He rose to his feet and offered you his hand.

“Anything for you Buck.” You agreed.

As you stepped out onto the dance floor, Bucky put one hand on your waist and held our other hand with his free one. The song you were dancing to was almost over. That wasn’t a surprise since the song was half over by the time, you’d recognized it anyway. As the song changed, Bucky still held you in his arms. You leaned your head in, almost resting on your shoulder.

Maybe it was the twinkling fairy lights casting a soft dancing glow around the even tent. Perhaps it was the fact that he remembered your love for violets and shared his much-loved red velvet cake with you, but if you didn’t know any better, you were falling in love with your best friend.

“Have I ever told you which song reminds me of you?” He asked, leading you out of tempo to the song currently playing. You thought for a minute, worried that he must have told you at some point, but you were just a bad friend who’d forgotten. “Maybe I didn’t.” Bucky shrugged. “It’s an old song, like me.” He smirked. “I’ll sing it for you.”

“Here?” You looked around.

“Why not?” He laughed. “No one else is going to hear me over this music. Just lean in like you were before.” You did as he instructed. You put your head on his shoulder and you thought you could hear his heart beating through his suit.

“Will I ever find the girl in my mind? The one who is my ideal? Maybe she’s a dream and yet she might be just around the corner, waitin’ for me. Will I recognize a light in her eyes, that no other eyes reveal?” You closed your eyes and listened to Bucky croon the sweet old love song to you. His voice was deep and nostalgic.

“Alright,” He laughed “I’ll stop making your ears bleed now.”

“No, It was beautiful.” You breathed. “Will you sing some more?”

[just-some-random-blogger]

“What a tsundere.”

Marvel Avengers Bucky Barnes x Architect!Reader Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Summary: Tony decided to remodel the 56th floor of the tower, and so currently, you were designing a lab, a lounge, a kitchen, and two bedrooms, specifically for a 17 year old and a 117 year old, apparently. Tony told you it was an exaggeration, but did warn you that that particular hundred year old called Bucky, acted just as cranky as one, as opposed to his best friend, Steve. Word Count: 2k+ Warnings: Geeky-ness, tsundere, fluff, meanness, angst, bro-ness etc

A/N: In this world, THanOS STAYS AWAY FROM MY BOIS ok

Tony pulled off his sunglasses and motioned around the room, spinning around. “I’ll leave it up to your good judgement where you want to place everything, but I want the lab to maybe have window. I mean, actually I don’t; I’ll keep it closed the whole time, but Pepper says I need to stay in touch with real time and look out the window so...”

I chuckled and nodded, turning to the sketchbook in my hand. “Lucky for her, I already planned to give the lab a big portion of the floor which includes about two windows.” I spoke, showing him a really rough sketch.

Tony couldn’t help but smile, “This is why I love you,” he said, clapping his hands, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Now the bedrooms you can fashion however you see fit, but knowing you, you’d probably want to know the people your building bedrooms for.”

I clicked my tongue and pointed a finger gun at him.

“You called, Mr. Stark?” a voice called from the east side of the floor. A man in a red suit emerged, making me cock my head to the right.

“Oh... are you that spider-man?“ I asked, lips curving up into a wide grin.

He jumped up a little, “Yeah! Wow! You know me, that’s--” “I told her about you, kid, don’t get too cocky.”

I held back a laugh as soon as the masked man’s body deflated. “No actually, I’ve seen your videos on youtube. But I would’ve never guessed you were that dude pushing that bus one in the same; you look unrecognizable in that costume.”

He placed a hand on his hip and pointed at me with the other, “Well, thank you. Mr. Stark gave this to me.”

“What's the things shooting out through your wrist?”

“Ah... uh, webs?”

“Webs!? Hardcore! Have you ever tried designing with it?”

Peter cocked his head to the side, “Uh... not really.”

“What about making it into clothing?”

“Well, if it counts, I use it to patch up holes in my shoes.”

For a moment, I smiled and looked at Tony, because, well it was awkward to look at a masked man, you know. We stood their in silence, only broken when Tony rolled his eyes and groaned, “Take off the m--” he said but stopped, opting to pull of the mask of the boy himself. He flinched at the gesture, waving his hand slowly, and blinked at me awkwardly while I chuckled brightly at him, waving back.

“Peter, this is our neighborhood architect.” Tony said saying my name, mentioning the fact I went to Julliard, skipping the fact he paid for my tuition. “This is the person who's going to be designing your room.” he gestured to boy to introduce himself.

He instead jumped up and fangirled, “Oh so I really am going to have my own room?”

I laughed at his excited reaction as Tony pushed his glasses up back on his face. “I’ll leave you to it then."

It was about a week and three days since I met Peter. At this point, I had full-on designs for every room on the floor, all aside from the other bedroom I had to make. Yes, I had a tentative design for it, but it was very basic and bland. I was waiting for the inhabitant to come back from the mission he had with Steve.

“Can I put a trampoline in my bedroom?“ Peter asked as he ate his sandwich.

“Peter, we’ve been through this,” I scolded as I sketched a portrait of him, curled up in his chair, munching on a bunch of snacks sprawled on the coffee table in front of us. “You can have anything in your room, but a trampoline.”

“But a trampoline is an anything.”

“Peter, the ceiling is too low.”

Peter pouted at that, making me chuckle. 

I was mostly crashing at the the tower, waiting for the return of this guy named Bucky. I huffed at the fact Peter kept shuffling in his place and repositioning himself. “Hey, could you-” I started but halted when Peter turned to me and yet again changed places.

“Sorry, what was that?“ Peter asked, licking the salt of his lips from all the sodium he consumed.

I huffed and shook my head in disapproval, “Nevermind.” I then flipped my sketchbook around and showed him my unfinished sketch of him that’ll be as finished as it’ll ever get.

“OH MY GOSH! THAT’S ME! YOU WERE DRAWING ME?“

I chuckled in agreement.

“WOW! But, why do I have three sets of legs?“ he spoke, getting the object from me, making me throw a pillow at him, which he caught, mind you, thanks to his quick senses. “YOU WOULDN’T STOP MOVING, MORON!”

He pouted, “Well you can continue it,” he handed be back my pad, going into the position he originally was in my sketchbook. “I’ll stay still this time.”

“No! You ruined the moment, now live with the fact you have six legs you arachnid.”

“... is that... did you just make a spiderman pun?“

I shot him a look.

Just then, there was a sound of two voices talking, moving closer to us.

We turned around and saw it was Steve, and with him was probably Bucky.

I sprang up from where I sat, calling out, “Captain!” proceeding to salute him.

Steve smiled wide and saluted back. I jogged over to him and hopped up to reach his shoulders and seal him in a bear hug. We shared a chuckle in our embrace, and once he let me go, I looked him over, “Any injuries?”

“Just some small cuts and bruises.”

I pursed my lips at that, “Well there’s an entire clinic here that I designed to have a band aid dispenser, so...”

“Sick, you designed that?“ Peter said jumping beside me, making me jump slightly as well as chuckle. “Well, yeah, technically. Tony was who actually made the machine though.”

“You collaborated with Mr. Stark. Coool.”

“You must be Bucky,” I turned from Peter to the tall man with blue eyes. I told him my name and stretched my hand out to him, “I’m an architect, and I’m also working on designing your bedroom.” He looked at my hand for a while and turned to Steve who then gave him a face, encouraging him to take my hand. Bucky shook it awkwardly, but I didn’t mind.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to interview you when you’re available. You know, just to know what you would like and dislike for me to put into your room.”

His face hardened a bit, “Right now?”

“Uh, well, if you’d like. But I’m in no particular rush, and you two did just get back, you must be exhausted.”

Steve was supposed to speak, but Bucky beat him to it. “I am, so maybe next time.” the dark haired man spoke, turning about and walking away. He probably didn’t mean anything by it, but I just couldn’t help but fell a snippy iciness in his words.

Apparently I wasn’t the only one, as Peter then huffed and Steve turned from his friend that walked away, to me to apologize. “I’m sorry, he must be cranky over the lack of sleep he had.”

I chuckled, “Hey no worries. I can relate. Now go on, get some rest.” I waved him off, making him smile. “Alright. Keep an eye on Peter.”

“Why would she need to keep an eye on me?” Peter asked and called for Steve as he walked away without a single word.

“No, I don’t want that.”

I huffed, gripping my notebook, “So... could you please just tell me what you want? This is getting frustrating... for the both of us.”

“Listen... all I really need is a bed, nothing fancy.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that, but when I tell you how the mechanics work, you shoot it down and tell me otherwise.”

I looked at the man who huffed and clenched his jaw, wiping his stubble with his human hand. I pursed my lips and opted to try again, “Okay, let’s not talk about the furniture since I’m not an interior designer. What about the walls? What’s your favorite color, Bucky?”

“Uh... just a plain color will do.”

“Alright, but what is your favorite color?”

“What am I, a child? I don’t need to have one.”

My breath hitched at that. I decided to play it off, “Wow, I must be really childish then because I love every color.”

He turned away from me and scoffed, speaking an barely audible, “Must be.”

I internally cringed and pretended not to hear that, “So, white?”

“They get too dirty easily.”

“Black?”

“Too dark.”

I liked the molars at the back of my mouth and turned away from him, “Grey?”

“Too... sad.”

I looked at him for a moment, then frowned. Once he turned to me, he stiffened and moved back, clenching his jaw tightly. I huffed, “Okay then,” I placed my sketchbook on my lap and clasps my hands together, “so what I’ve gathered is that you don’t like any of the furniture I’ve told you about because they’re needless and too modern for your liking-- understandable. You don’t like any colors either, and I’ve sure you’d hate it if I made your walls all window.”

Bucky turned dot give me an incredulous look, as if I was dumb and giving him a hard time. It  enough to make me tick and get my blood boiling. I moaned in frustration, “So I guess I’ll make this bedroom as basic as I planned it to be in the first place.”

He pulled his head back, “You had a design all along?”

“...”

“And you still asked me for no reason?”

My eyes widened, “Okay, first of all, I asked you because this is a room you will be staying in for a pretty significant amount of time in, so I wanted you to be comfortable in it by modifying it to your needs. Second, the only reason why I have to use this basic design is because you literally gave me nothing to work with, and I-” Bucky stood up, “I guess we’re done then.”

I scoffed, “I guess we are.”

“Bucky doesn’t hate you.” Steve said, making me roll my eyes.

“He does, and for no reason. I literally was nothing but nice, understanding, and respectful to him, and he just-” I cut myself off with a groan. I shoved a spoon into my mouth and viciously chewed on some Frosties as Steve took a sip of his black coffee.

He placed the warm thing in between his hands and breathed out, “I’ll talk to him. Maybe he was still just tired and put out his frustrations on you.”

I turned to my bowl then to Steve, pouting, “I’d like that. Thank you.”

Steve smiled back, “No problem.

The elevator door dinged and a man with black hair and blue eyes came into view. I was about to greet him, up until he walked in next to me and snarled, “You told Steve I was rude to you?”

My brows raised as I glues by eyes to the man who roughly pressed a number that was approximately just three floors above ours.

“I was being honest. I can’t believe you acted like a such a tattle tail.” his voice was laced in apparent annoyance.

I chuckled out a scoff, “Excuse me?”

The elevator dinged and came to a stop. “You’re excused.” he spoke, getting out of the door, leaving me stunned as it automatically shut again.

“I think he likes you.” Peter said, as I walked over to the head engineer, making me stop in my tracks. I shot him a death glare to which he only shrugged, “You like anime. He’s just a tsundere.”

I looked up, preparing to roll my eyes, but decided he wasn’t worth the trouble. “Listen, Pete. If you’re just going to talk about Bucky and be a bother while I work, you might as well just leave.”

“Noooo! I really want to see how everything is done. Please don’t make me leave.”

I turned to the boy you walked close behind me, “Plus, you said we could put web designs in my room, so... teach me the architecture ways, sensei.” he spoke, placing a fist in his palm and bowing, making me burst into laughter.

“Ah, young Padawan, you have much to learn.”

“What the hell is a tundire?” Bucky blurted to Steve, butchering the Japanese term.

“A what?” Steve turned to his best friend, putting the afternoon paper down.

“Peter told me I was a one, then shot a web, and swung away.”

“Pal, it’s probably lingo I can’t help you with because I don’t know it either.”

Bucky huffed, “Can’t you pull out your phone and search it? It’s why I came to you in the first place.”

“You came to me about that?”

“Well I can’t really ask Peter now can I?”

Steve huffed and pulled out the complicated device out of his pocket, “Why does this bother you so much, anyway? It probably isn’t even important or something we’ll get, knowing Peter.”

It matters because it involves me and the pretty architect, apparently. “I have to know so I have solid grounds to beat some sense into that teenager.”

Steve snickered, “Okay grandpa.”

“Shut up,” Bucky pushed his shoulder, “You’re worse.”

“That’s true.”

After a few minutes of trying to remember how google works, Steve remembered the voice recognition app that was way easier. Steve pushed the phone to Bucky’s face, “Say the word you said.”

“Sun-di-re.” he pronounced slowly, making Steve pull back, “That’s not what you said.”

“I don’t-” “Did you mean tsundere?” the phone spoke, making Bucky perk up. “THAT’S WHAT HE SAID.”

Steve turned from his friend to his phone, smiling, thanking the girl who taught him how to do this, triggering Bucky.

“Why are you thanking her?”

Steve turned his best friend, more suspicious about him and his feelings about the girl. Bucky had been needlessly rude to the said architect, and Steve thought he was just tired and cranky, but now he was thinking that he maybe left his suave in the sixties and decided this was how to flirt with a woman.

“She was who taught me this trick.” the blonde said, nonchalant.

Bucky narrowed his eyes but decided to say anything.

The app then lead them to the meaning of the Japanese word.

“Tsundere (ツンデレ, pronounced [tsɯndeɾe]) is a Japanese term for a character development process that describes a person who is initially cold (and sometimes even hostile) before gradually showing a warmer, friendlier side over time.” Steve read out.

After further inspection, Bucky’s face fell and Steve started laughing.

“Dude, you are totally a tsundere.”

“I am not! I don’t like her!”

“Ahhh, and that’s another symptom.”

“Shut up!” Bucky shouted, standing up, “There is no way I could ever like a girl like her!” 

Slowly, I emerged from the kitchen, sneaking slowly to the door, not to get caught. Big mistake though, because how could I sneak when there was no where to sneak behind and the only way from the kitchen to the exit was past the two bickering tall men who were by the couch, oh right in front of me?

The two whipped their head in my direction and I chuckled nervously. “Right.” I pointed to the door. “I’m just gonna-” I then skedaddled.

“No wait--” Bucky spoke softly, making Steve chuckle.

“You know Buck,” he stood up, “just because we’re in the 21st century doesn’t mean a woman can’t fall for old fashioned charm.”

With this, the man with the metal arm sighed, “I... I panic when I’m around her Steve, I don’t know what to do.”

Steve placed his arm over his best friend’s shoulders, “Well, you can start by being a man and apologizing.”

Bucky chuckled, nodding his head, “Right. That’s a good start. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“I do,” Steve said, bursting into tune, “L is for the way you look at me.”

The two smiled and turned to each other, “O is for the only one I see...”

[elatedmarvel]

Shadow: Part 1

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Natasha and Bucky rescue someone from their past. Being hunted down, they bring you to the Avengers. Will it be enough to keep you safe?

Warnings: injury

A/N: My first angsty and Bucky series!! That being said it’s my first time writing a series that’s so interconnected. Feedback is always welcome. Thank you so much for reading! ~J

Masterlist 

Light was the first thing you noticed. It started like you were driving through a tunnel. Gradually sounds and voices came to you as well, until everything hit you all at once. You sit up gasping, or you tried to but something kept you down.

“She’s going into shock. Sedate her!” you hear someone yell over you. You feel a slight pinch and everything goes dark again.

This time sound came to you first. You could hear the clock ticking in your room, the sound of someone, no someones, breathing. Opening your eyes, everything was little blurs at first. Blinking until the image became clearer, you whimper at the sudden pain shooting through you.

“It’s ok. It’s ok друг” she says as she comes closer to you. For a moment you think you are hallucinating, you haven't seen her since… She cuts off your train of thought when you feel her touch your clenched fist. You finally get a good look at her as she hovers over you and brushes strands of your hair out of your face, just as your mother had.

“Natalia” you breath and wince when you realize that everything hurts.

“I know, I’m here, you’re ok” she tries and soothes again, but it doesn’t work this time. Tears come to your eyes when you realize what the pain means, what seeing Natasha means. Breathing becomes a chore now and you heave your chest to try and get air in, but this just upsets your injuries more and blinding pain consumes you.

“They’re coming for me. They got me” you wheeze out through your tears.

“She’s having a panic attack, we need to sedate her again” you hear and suddenly you see the other person in your room.

“Steve, she’s had enough drugs!” Natasha yells as she tries to stop him from calling in a nurse.

Suddenly you feel cold metal touch your face and you turn to face the person you had missed in your initial scan. Two piercing blue eyes look down at you with such intensity it takes your breath away.

“Focus on my hand, can you feel it?” he says as he starts to move it from your forehead to your cheek. You nod slowly and lean into his touch.

“Great, keep focusing and tell me something else you can feel” his voice low and calming.

“Pain, everything hurts” you almost whine. His eyes go a little darker, but otherwise he keeps his composure.

“Something else кукла, anything else.”

“The sheets, they’re scratchy” you reply and he almost chuckles.

“Good, tell me something you can see” he goes again.

“You, your eyes, they’re so pretty.” you spill out before you can think.

His face flushes a bit and a smile creeps up on his perfect lips. He moves his hand from your cheek to your chest now and you feel a tingling sensation wherever he drags his hand.

“Good, your breathing’s calmed. You’re ok, just keep focusing on here and now кукла” he states as his eyes roam over you once more.

You hadn’t even noticed that Natasha and Steve had stopped fighting and were now watching your exchange curiously. A few moments pass before he realizes that he’s lingering now, and lifts his hand off your chest and retreats a little backwards. His eyes met Steve’s across your bed and he gives him a small shrug and nod, indicating that he’ll speak to him later.

“Thanks Barnes” Natasha says as she takes her spot next to you again, gripping your hand. You feel pain again and whimper as you turn to look at her.

“I know” she whispers, reading your mind. “We got to you in time, but they got away.” You nod as you comprehend her words, they’ll be coming back for you. You tear yourself out of the pit of despair you feel and look again at the room. The wall directly in front of you is all glass and you can see the pristine white hallway and blue chairs that line it. Your own room was white as can be. White linoleum tiles, white cabinets to your right, glass door lined with silver, the blanket that covered you, the lined chairs everyone had sat in, even the machines around you were white. A white side table held the only bit of color, a bouquet of gold and light pink gardenias sat in a vase.

“Y/N?” Natasha breaking you out of your daze. Your eyes flicker to the man on your right, blond, blue eyes, built like a god. You smile when you realize Natasha’s description of him and the pictures you’ve seen do not do him justice.

“Thanks for sedating me earlier” you say looking straight at him, remembering he was the one who held you down when you first woke . His cheeks flush as he comes to stand closer to your bed.

“Sorry, didn’t want you to hurt yourself” he mumbles and sticks his hand out before remembering that you were unable to take it and quickly put it down. “Steve Rogers, nice to officially meet you Y/N” he states. “Natasha, we should go get Dr. Cho” Steve says looking at Natasha. She looks to you almost in question before you wave her off.

“I’ll be fine, go get the doctor Nat” you try and smile at her. She hesitantly lets go of your hand and stands up, letting Steve lead her out of the room.

A moment of silence follows before you turn to him. You take a good look, also built like a god, his blue eyes look even bluer than you remember and his hair is different than when you last saw him. But he still looks the same.

“Soldat” you nod in greeting. He slightly flinches before coming closer to stand at the edge of your bed.

“Bucky, call me Bucky”

“Thank you for saving me, Bucky” you convey, his eyes and voice coming back as the last things you remember before you had almost died.

You can see the way he almost stops breathing before he lets out a sigh “you’re welcome”. You keep staring up at him and he shifts uncomfortably under your watch, since when was the soldat, Bucky, uncomfortable in your presence? It hits you then that he probably doesn’t remember you as anything more than the girl he had saved a few hours ago and the girl he had talked out of a panic attack a few minutes ago.

Before you can get another word out, Nat brings in who you assume to be Dr. Cho who holds your chart in her hands.

“Good to see you awake Y/N. I’m Dr. Cho, how are you feeling?” she sincerely asks as she checks the machines for your vitals and goes to press around your stomach.

“Everything hurts” you honestly tell her.

“I’m not surprised. Two broken ribs, multiple hairline fractures on your arms and legs, multiple lacerations to your legs and back. We had to stitch up the big one on your hairline. I’m surprised you’re even awake, you had severe brain trauma. Not to mention the fact that you were malnourished and dehydrated.” she lists off. From the corner of your eye you see Bucky tense. The rest of your checkup was done in silence, except for a couple of gasps of pain whenever she hit a sensitive area.

She finally left with Steve and Bucky in tow after prescribing you pain meds and telling you she would place you in the cradle later to help you heal faster. You thanked her profusely, you wanted, no needed, to be able to move around again soon.

“I know what you’re thinking Y/N and you’re not leaving here” Nat’s voice broke you from your thoughts.

“I can’t put you at risk too. They want me Nat” you huff.

“We can protect you! We can help you! You’re safer here than anywhere else! You don’t have to be by yourself anymore сестра”

“Well, sister, you know I can take care of myself. No one else needs to get hurt because of me” you snide back.

She takes a moment to compose herself, knowing the agony you had endured. “Please,” her voice coming out smaller than you’ve ever heard, “please just think about staying? I promise you, you are no burden. Everyone here wants to help you.”

You close your eyes for a moment, before looking at her. You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen her. She looked happier despite the current situation, her skin glowed, her eyes had a sparkle to them, and you could see the lines starting to form from smiling and laughing so much. Your heart tugged a little, longing to be as happy as she seemed.

“Ok” you breathed out. “1 month, I’ll stay for 1 month.”

“2” she smiled, knowing you couldn’t resist her pleads.

“Fine, 2 months, but no more” you conceded and smiled. She leans in and pulls you close to her. Both of you trying to control your emotions as you hold her back.

“I’ve missed you тень” and you giggle at the nickname.

“I promise I won’t follow you around as much” you grin at her.

“Please do, I’ve missed my shadow” she smiles back, eyes filled with sadness.

You see him pacing your room as you wake up from your nap. His brows have a groove in the middle from the worry and his bottom lip is caught in between his perfect teeth.

“Stop pacing before you wear a hole in the floor.” you say and stifle your giggle as he looks to you in shock.

“Sorry. I… I don’t know why I came. I mean I do, I had to make sure you were ok. But, I’ve seen you now. You look ok. I think I’ll just go” he babbles like a child getting caught stealing cookies.

“Stay” you let out and he looks away wearily.

“Do you remember me?” you innocently ask and see his body go rigid. He looks at your face, searching for something before he looks defeated.

“I’m sorry” he breathes out before turning on his heel and leaving.

Translations:

друг-friend

кукла- doll (more on this later)

сестра- sister

Part 2

[buckyalpine]

Bucky vs Bucky ft smut

Bucky vs Bucky - Smutty edition.

Imagine time travel going wrong only to end up so right when you have present Bucky and 40′s Bucky in front of you. You love your boyfriend with your whole entire heart and being but there's something about that sweet 40′s baby that makes you weak.

Nothing gets by Bucky who notices the way your thighs squeeze together around his former self or the way you get all shy and giggly. The young soldier is no better, eyeing the prettiest doll he’s ever seen, wanting just 1 taste of his future life. You can’t seem to take your eyes off him; imagine your surprise when you walk into you bedroom to find your Bucky lounging on the couch while the other is leaning against your dresser, both with equally devious expressions. You feel hot all over because there is something in the air, filled with thick tension.

“What-what are you both doing” You stutter out, biting your lip when the young soldier approaches you, cupping your cheek. You let out a needy whimper while Bucky smirked from his place on the touch, tugging the waistband of his sweats down, revealing his aching erection. 

“I’m going to sit here and stroke my cock and you’re going to suck his cock like the pretty slutty little princess you are, understand kitten?” He let out a satisfied hum watching you sink to your knees in front of the soldier without a question. 

“You look so pretty sugar” He groaned, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling his cock out, chest already heaving when your lips brush against his wet tip. You were greedy for him, too worked up to tease him with just your tongue. You wrapped your plush lips around his tip, nursing and suckling him, your hand pumping what you couldn’t fit into your mouth. “OH-That’s it sweets, you got a real mouth on you-” 

He didn’t even realize he was rutting his hips into your mouth, chasing the warm wetness of your throat. You grew more desperate, your panties soaked, needing to feel him inside you, tasting him making you more feral than before. You could’ve passed out at the sight of your boyfriend giving himself long languid strokes, flicking at the slit with his thumb, smearing his arousal all over the head. 

“Need something, kitten?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow when you looked over to him with glassy eyes, “You’re little button all tingly baby? You need him to stuff you full, take you right on the floor like the whore you are?” 

You desperately nodded, gasping when the much younger Bucky gently laid you on the floor, undressing you with care before throwing all his clothes off. He didn’t waste a second lining himself up, rubbing his blunt tip through your folds, groaning at the feeling of your dripping cunt. 

“You’re soaked bunny” He started to press his cock in, the tip breeching your entrance, the both of you moaning in unison at the feeling of his stretch, “Shit, I-i won’t last if you keep squeezin’ me doll” 

He rested his forehead against yours, starting off slow, taking your hands and pinning them above your head against the floor. His slow pace only lasted so long; within no time he was fucking into you like an animal in heat, all former composure lost. 

“Fuck s’even better than I imagined” Bucky’s hips lifted off the couch, thrusting into his fist watching you lock your ankles together, moaning like a desperate whore on the floor, taking all the cock the soldier was willing to give you. The soldier himself was no better, equally lost in your tight wet heat, growling at the squelching sound that left you each time he fucked up into you. 

“Sh-shit doll, you’re-god damn” He groaned, lewd and vulture words swimming in his mind, unable to say them out loud. “You got me thinkin’ pure filth bunny” 

“Tell her exactly what she is, she likes it” Bucky smirked, jerking his cock off faster at the sight of your eyes rolling back, loud wanton moans filling the room. 

“You’re a pretty little slut doll, don’t get me wrong, you’re pussy is a dream” One he started running his mouth, he couldn’t stop, babbling to himself while you clenched and clawed at him, your eyes darting between the pretty man making you see stars and the other playing with his cock, both men so pretty making you lose it with their words. 

“What I wouldn’t give to take ya back with me sweets, fuck, to have a sweet housewife to come to with her legs spread for me, letting me pump her up with my load till she’s all round with my kid” 

“She’s a good little kitten, just waiting for cock, isn’t that right baby? Look what you do to us doll” 

“Yeah, I know you’d be so good doll, can tell you’d be so perfect with the way you opened these pretty thighs up for me, letting me shove my cock all the way in you” 

“Didn’t need me to tell you twice to take his cock, hm? Look how quick you spread your legs baby, sucking him like you’ve never tasted cock before” 

“Would you be a good housewife for me baby? Would you cook me dinner wearin’ nothin’ but some pretty heels? Be in bed, waitin’ for me, waitin’ for me to come make that pussy feel all better?” 

“She needs it, that cute pearl between her legs is so fuckin’ greedy, always begging for someone to rub and kiss it all better” 

“Would put a ring on ya finger in a heart beat” He moaned when you clenched at his words, “You like that, huh darlin’” 

Your moans grew more desperate, crying out when he pulled back and sat back on his heels, throwing your legs on his shoulders, watching his cock disappear in and out, pounding into you harder. 

“Go-go a head and rub that pretty pussy for me baby-fuck- that’s it, my slutty slutty bunny” His grip around your hips tightened, slamming you down onto him while you reached down to touch yourself, rubbing fast tight circles. 

“I’m gonna-I’m-fuck-.Bucky-Soldier-I-please-FUCK” You sobbed in pleasure as your orgasm started to wash over, hiccupping between moans when his hips stuttered, losing his pace. 

“FUCK YESSS” Thick warm ropes of cum started to fill your pussy, the hold he had on you softening. 

“Wanna see something pretty?” You could hear Bucky’s footsteps approaching; you whimpered as the soldier pulled out, watching your boyfriend stroke his cock, standing over your face. You opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out as Bucky jerked himself faster, moaning letting his cum shoot all over your face, drops spilling onto your tongue. 

You felt like you were floating, pliant on the floor, a sticky hot mess between your legs, your face wet with his cum. You panted between soft whimpers, the aftershocks of your orgasms unending. Your eyes grew wide when you felt a pair of arms, one warm the other cold, pick you off the floor and toss you onto the bed, your boyfriend and the pretty soldier both standing at the foot of the bed, cocks still hard as ever.  

“Better catch your breath sugar, were not done with you”

“Time for you to take us both, sweetheart” 

[swtltlmrvlgrl]

Stay Until the Rain Stops

Summary:

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier AU. In Bucky’s search of what his “normal” looks like, he finds the reader sitting in a dark alleyway giving shelter to everything else, besides herself.

This story is part of my one-shot compilations inspired by the song “You Shine” from the musical “Carrie”, wherein two people see the way each other shines. This is NOT related to the previously uploaded story called “Accidents Happen”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (platonic!sam wilson and peter parker)

Warning/s: allergies, rain, fever, fainting, awkward

Word Count: 4,750

-----

“How can I leave you if you’re looking at me like that?”

You were on your way home from work, and it was raining heavily. To prevent the rain from soaking your bag and the important papers due tomorrow inside it, you positioned it in front of you - as if you’re cradling a baby in your arms. You were typing something on your phone when you heard a cry coming from the direction of the alleyway, you looked around to check if people noticed it too.

The sound of the cry hit too close to home that you weren’t able to ignore it. You walked towards and into the dark alleyway. With one umbrella in hand and your phone on the other, you turned on your phone’s flashlight and searched for the source of the soft cries.

You found it, and it is EXACTLY what you thought it was. Staring straight into your eyes with its pleading puppy dog eyes is obviously a puppy. It’s soaking wet inside a cardboard box. You immediately take off your grey cardigan and crouch down.

“Your parents left you here, huh?” You say, while wrapping the cardigan around the puppy.

You sit down - indian style - and place the box between your thighs. You pull the box and your bag closer to your body to make sure that the dog and your bag is properly placed under the umbrella, not minding the huge droplets of water accumulating on your back.

“I’m sorry.” You tell the puppy.” This is the only thing that I can do.”

The puppy wags its tail slowly. It breaks your heart that you can’t take the puppy home, but you’re allergic to dogs and puppies. The mere fact that you actually had contact with this puppy right now will have its consequences tonight or tomorrow, it’s fine but having it with you every day is a death sentence. Of course, you WOULD know.

When you were a child, you would ask your mother everyday to visit your aunt’s place because she had five dogs. You knew you were allergic to dogs so you made sure that you always drink your antihistamine after visiting your aunt’s house. But after playing with her dogs the whole day for 5 consecutive days, your body did not respond to the antihistamine anymore and you had to be rushed to the hospital. The worst part is, ever since that day, you’re not allowed to visit your aunt’s house and play with her dogs. You can only admire dogs from afar. That experience left a void in your heart that can only be filled by watching dog videos everyday.

“Ah!” You remember that you have a leftover carrot in the lunch box. “Today is your lucky day champ.” You scramble through your things. “My lunch was cut short so I have a few pieces of carrots left.”

You mash the carrots with your fingers, making it easier for the puppy to eat. “Here you go.” The puppy licks the mashed carrots at the tip of your index finger. “Good?” You ask, after you see him finishing up the food. The puppy wags its tail enthusiastically. “Man, how long have you been here?”

The puppy barks in response. “A long time huh?” You pat its head. “Okay. Here’s a deal.” You take his right paw with your right hand. “I’ll ask around the office tomorrow. I promise I’ll find you a new parent. Okay?” You shake his paw and he barks.

-----

Ever since he moved in one week ago, Bucky would always check the alleyway near his apartment building. It’s been pretty quiet and normal these past few days.

But not today.

Even with his hood up, he could clearly hear something in the alleyway. He walked slowly and stealthily, and found shelter a few meters away from the unfamiliar entity.

From where he was standing, he recognized the shape of an umbrella, and a box resting on what seemed like legs in denim jeans. He heard a voice, your voice, having a conservation with … the box?

Wait.

Did the box...bark?

“I’ll stay here until the rain stops.” He heard you say.

Bucky contemplated on what you just said. Is she out of her mind? He looked up and stretched his hands out to check if the rain would stop any time soon. An obvious, no.

After clicking his tongue, he clenched his jaw, and walked briskly towards your direction. He can’t just leave you there soaking under the rain.

Ah, Bucky was caught with a sudden pang of nostalgia. It’s been a while since I saved an irresponsibly impulsive person.

-----

The sound of footsteps approaching you puts you on high alert. The puppy must’ve smelled your fear and starts barking towards the direction of the stranger. The entity stops a few steps away from you. You hold your breath and pray that today won’t be your last day on earth. The puppy stops barking.

After a moment of silence, you hear three small taps on your umbrella. The person at the opposite side of the umbrella cleared his (you assumed he’s a man because of his deep voice) throat.

“I- uh - overheard your conversation with the thing in the box” He starts saying.

You pull your umbrella up, exposing the dog wrapped in grey cardigan and your drenched self to the man. Seeing the state that you’re in, Bucky swiftly takes off his leather jacket, leaving him with only his hoodie to cover his body from the rain, and proceeds to wrap it around you.

“My jacket’s a little wet too but...” He says. “This can warm you up a little.” He takes the handle of your umbrella. “I don’t think the rain’s going to stop any time soon.” Before you can say anything, he stretches his arms out for you to hold. “Maybe we should go and seek shelter first?”

----

“James Buchanan Barnes.” He introduces himself.”But you can call me Bucky.”

You can’t really tell him that he doesn’t need to introduce himself, cause you already know him. You work in the Avengers tower after all, and Sam Wilson has been talking about his new cyborg-brained partner coming in a week.

As a mechanical engineer, you’ve always been fascinated by the technologies coming from Wakanda, and you’ve been particularly curious about his metal arm. But you can’t really tell him that now, can you? Especially now that you’re inside his apartment while drying your hair with his towel. Good thing you always pack extra sets of clothes, it would’ve been awkward if he offers you his clothes, as well.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You tell him. “Thank you for saving me and the puppy out there. I’m actually...” You sigh. “...allergic to dogs and puppies so I can’t adopt him and take him home.” You continue, while playing with the tip of the towel. “I know this is too much to ask after everything you did but is it okay if he stays with you for now?”

Bucky isn’t responding. He can’t. How can he take care of a puppy, he can’t even take care of himself.

“I’ll find him a parent tomorrow, I promise.” You assure him, while putting the towel down and facing him.

“Sure.” Bucky gives a half-hearted response, while forcing a smile.

You heave a sigh of relief “Thanks!” You run towards him and shake his hands. “You’re a hero.”

Hero. That’s probably the last word that Bucky will use to describe himself, but he won’t deny that being called like that felt good. He didn’t even notice the way his half-hearted smile turned into a full one.

“You can stay here if you want.” Bucky offers as you let go of his hand.

You were taken aback by the offer. I mean, staying with Mr. Barnes would entail a lot of chances to ask him about the arm and maybe more about the Wakandan technology. But that’s too much to ask from him in a day, he’s just being polite and you don’t want to impose.

“Thank you so much for the offer. But I would have to decline.” You say.

The curve on Bucky’s face disappears. “Okay.”

“Okay.” You say in a hushed voice.

“I can take you ho - “ The sound from the puppy cuts Bucky mid-sentence.

The puppy must’ve understood what you just said, and started barking and crying. You and Bucky look at each other for a moment, then to the dog and to each other again. Bucky smirks, and you smile back. You both start walking towards the crying dog. You crouch down and pat the puppy’s head.

“Hey.” He stops crying and wags his tail, while aggressively rubbing his head and his muzzle in your hand. “I have to go.” The puppy starts crying again, a little louder than the first one.

You take a deep breath and sigh. “You’re using the crying technique again. We meet for 5 seconds and you already know my weakness. You’re even using it against me.”

You hear Bucky’s small chuckle from behind.

“Fine.” You rub his head a few more times. “I’ll stay. But no more touching, ‘kay?” The puppy barks once and wags his tail. He does a small twirl and pats your gray sweater-turned-dog-blanket and makes himself comfortable.

You breathe out and slowly stand to face Bucky.

“Don’t apologize.” Bucky starts talking before you could say anything. “The puppy actually did a better job than me in convincing you to stay. I mean -” Bucky rubs his nape and points at the wall clock. “It’s already late. I think it would be best if you stay here for the night.”

“I really, really don’t want to impose. But I also don’t want to leave him crying in your apartment. I promise I’ll go home early in the morning.”

“Sure.” He pauses. “You mentioned that you’re - uh - allergic to dogs, I can go out to buy medicine for you.”

“Oh no no. No need. I actually have some with me.”

“Water?” Bucky offers.

You nod your head. “Thank you.”

“Actually - uhm -” You stop him before he goes to fetch you some water. “I have something to tell you.” You pause for a moment to gather all the necessary strength that you would need for this confession. “We’re actually office or work mates… ish?”

Bucky raises his eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I work at the Avengers Tower.” You say it as fast as you can. “But I’m not like you, or like a superhero or something. I work at the engineering department.” You confess. “Sam, your partner, I help him sometimes with his gears. He has been talking about you since last week.”

“Well. That man really likes talking a lot huh.” Bucky responds.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t know how I’m going to tell you without it being awkward.”

“I don’t think we can get any more awkward than this, Y/N.”

“Agreed.”

“So work mates, huh?”

“Yep.”

“That’s actually good news.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’ll have someone with me on my first day.”

The tension and the awkwardness between the two of you started to disappear. Having some kind of a connection and a common friend, made Bucky feel a bit more relaxed and at ease. You, on the other hand, feel better because you don’t have anything to hide. You still haven’t told him about your interest for his Wakandan arm, but that’s a completely different story.

While you were drinking your antihistamine, Bucky took out his blankets and his extra pillows and laid them all on the sofa, where you will be sleeping for the night. After which, he arranges a pair of pillows and a blanket on the floor, a few steps away from the sofa, where he will be sleeping.

You really feel bad about this set-up, especially with Bucky just sleeping on the floor with just blankets serving as his cushion, but Sam sometimes tells you stories about vets having a difficult time sleeping on beds. It felt too soft, Sam would say, like the ground is eating them alive. Which is why, no matter how uncomfortable it looks and feels to you, you did your best to not put Bucky in a position where he has to explain himself and his feelings.

Bucky turns off the lights, except the lampshade beside the television.

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

-----

You wake up to a very cold sensation, sending shivers down your spine. Your eyes feel heavy and you somehow find it difficult to breathe. Slowly, you open your eyes to wake up and try to sit up. Now you realize, it’s not just your eyes or your breathing is heavy, your whole body feels heavy.

This isn’t good.

You scan through the room to look for Bucky only to find a small piece of paper neatly placed on the table with a glass of water on top to prevent it from being taken away by the wind. His note was written at the center of the short bond paper with a black pen, his penmanship was surprisingly neat and easy to understand.

I’ll just go out for a walk. I’ll be back soon. - Bucky

You massage your head and look at the time. It’s 5 am. A little earlier than what you’re used to, maybe that explains why you’re feeling a little under the weather. Drinking the water made you feel a little better, you massage your head and walk towards the puppy. Seeing him sleeping soundly, gave you a sense of relief.

“Sleep well.” You whisper.

The sound of your phone ringing surprised you. Just from the ring tone alone, you know that it’s work-related. You pace towards your bag and search for your phone. You look at the screen. It’s Sam.

“Hey Sam. What’s up?”

“Y/N. I’m sorry to wake you early in the morning.”

“No probs. I’m already awake.”

“This early? That's new.”

You chuckle. “Yeah. ‘Cause I had a feeling you’d call. Women’s intuition.”

Sam laughs. “Right. I need your help in fixing Red Wing for a mission later, can you come?”

“Like now?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure. I’ll just fix myself and go there.”

“Is that Y/N?” You hear a voice from the background, based on the pitch of the voice, it has to be Peter. “Y/N! I need help with my web shooters too!”

“I just leave for a night and everyone misses me already huh.”

“Perks of being the gang’s favorite engineer.” Sam quips. “We have breakfast here too. We’ll wait for you.”

“Come faster, I’m hungry!” Peter shouts. “And I’ll be late for class!”

“Sure sure. I’ll go now. Bye Sam.”

“Thanks, Y/N. See you.”

“Wait! Sam!” You shout, stopping Sam from hanging up the phone “I have a favor to ask.”

“What is it?”

“Is there a room for a puppy in the Tower?”

“A puppy?” Sam pauses. “Wait, Y/N. Aren’t you allergic to puppies?”

“I’ll explain later.” You tell Sam, while putting out a pen from your bag and then reaching for the piece of paper Bucky previously wrote on.

“Okay. I guess it can stay in my room.”

“Yes! Thanks Sam, see you!” Then you hang up.

Hi Bucky. Good morning. Sorry but I have to leave. Duty calls. I feel bad that I won’t be able to come with you on your first day at the tower but you can always pass by the Eng’g department if you’re free. I’ll be there the whole day.

Also, good news! Sam’s willing to adopt the puppy, so I’ll be taking it with me.

Thank you for everything and sorry for the trouble that I caused.

-Y/N

You pick up the box carefully, so as not to wake the puppy up and went out.

—————

“If you’re looking for Y/N she’s in the clinic.” Sam tells Bucky whose eyes were searching the building room. Inside his backpack was a piece of sandwich because you were and a small carton of milk he bought on his way home early morning, but wasn’t able to give you or the puppy because you weren’t there when he came back. “And the puppy’s in my room.” Sam adds.

“I see.” Bucky answers, trying to be as indifferent sounding as possible. But deep inside, he’s actually worried about you. Is it because of her allergies? Maybe I shouldn’t have let you stay in the same room as the dog.

“It’s not her allergies.” Sam says, like he read exactly what’s in Bucky’s mind.

“Good.”

Both Sam and Bucky enter the elevator going to the 5th floor where most of the weapons, tools and equipment are found. Upon arriving, Sam points at the second door at the right side area, on top of it is a huge sign written with black paint saying ‘Engineering Department’.

Sam opens the door. Lo and Behold at the far end of the room, wearing safety goggles, holding a soldering pen, with sparks flying all over the place, was you.

“I thought she’s in the clinic.”.

“My god! Y/N! I told you to stay in the clinic.” Sam ignores what Bucky just said and walks straight towards you. “I leave you for what? Thirty minutes? and you’re -” Sam takes his eyes off of you and shoots angry glances at the engineering staff. “And you all didn’t even stop her.”

“You know, she can’t be stopped when she’s in the zone.” One of the staff answers and the others nod in agreement.

“In the zone or not, she has a fever for god’s sake.”

“Don’t be mad Sam, I was the one who told them to not stop me.” You continue to solder on Red Wing’s fuel control unit.

“That’s a first. They never listen to you.” Sam stands at the opposite side of your working table with his arms crossed on his chest, the volume of his voice is lower, almost like a murmur.

“In my defense, you’re the one who asked for my help.” You pull the magnifying glass and adjust it a few inches away from the mechanism.

“That was because I didn’t know you had a high fever.” The moment you stop soldering, Sam pulls the magnifier away from Red Wing, making you put your full attention on the man standing in front of you. “I can handle this Y/N. Rest. Now.”

You pull the magnifier back and continue with your work. “Where’s Rain?” You’re attempting to change the topic.

“Who’s Rain?” The familiarity coming from the voice made you stop, you were expecting to see him today but not this soon. You put down the soldering pen, push your goggles up to your forehead.

“Hey Bucky.” You greet him. Bucky notices how pale you are and yet your smile never faltered. Your adorable awkwardness is still present as well.

“Hey.” He responds. “So... ‘Rain’... the puppy’s name?”

“Yeah. Peter, Sam and I named him this morning”

“Wait.” Sam interjects and looks at Bucky. “So, Y/N can call you Bucky but I can’t?”

Bucky ignores Sam’s comment, steps forward and points at Red Wing. “How long are you planning to fix that?”

You look at your wrist watch and then at Red Wing. “I’ll be done in 20-30 minutes.”

“Make it 10 minutes.” Bucky challenges. “If you’re not yet done by then. I’ll be carrying you out of this room and into the clinic.”

“Wait. What?”

“What? Can’t do it? I thought people working here are the best of the best.” Bucky pushes further.

You squint at him and then to Sam and then sighs. “Fine.” You set the alarm to ten minutes and then plug one of the airpods in your ear. “I’ll walk to the clinic myself.” Then plugs the other airpod to the other ear. “See you in 10 minutes.”

“And just like that, you listen to him?” Sam comments and puts his hands on his waist.

Bucky puts his hand on Sam’s shoulder “I had years of experience looking out for irresponsibly impulsive people.” He nods his head inviting Sam to step outside.

-----

“So Y/N reminds you of Steve, huh.” Sam says after getting out of your office.

Bucky smirks. “If by that, you mean, she reminds me of the times that I have to check alleyways ‘cause the sickly Steve “too-stubborn-to run-away-from-a-fight” Rogers might be out there somewhere, then yes.”

“Good thing she’s not the fighting type” Sam continues. “That would’ve given me a headache.”

“She's irresponsible, reckless and impulsive.” Bucky adds. “But she’s a good person.”

“That is something we can agree on.” Sam says.

-----

“I’m done!” With just a few seconds to spare, you shout and raise your two hands to celebrate. Sam and Bucky must’ve heard you cause a few seconds later, they enter the room and walk straight to your work station.

“I did it!” After congratulating you and giving you a high five, the two of them position themselves on each of your sides, Sam on your left and Bucky on your right.

“Now.” You take off your gloves, your goggles and your industrial apron. “A deal is a deal, I will walk - “

Thump.

The goggles that you were supposed to place on the table fell on the ground.

“Y/N!” Sam calls out and immediately checks your pulse. “She’s still alive. Just unconscious. She must’ve fainted because of her high fever.”

“I’ll take her to the clinic.” Bucky hoists you up and carries you like a princess. Bucky starts to run and Sam tries to follow after Bucky, but Bucky was too fast.

“The clinic’s on the 2nd floor.” Sam shouts at the running form of Bucky.

“FRIDAY.” Sam gets the AI’s attention.

“Yes, Mr. Wilson.”

“Please tell the clinic that Bucky will be taking Y/N there.” Sam commands. “Also, show Bucky the directions, I don’t think he knows the way to the clinic yet.”

“Understood.”

“Thanks FRIDAY.”

-----

The shape and form of the room you’re staying at becomes clearer as you slowly open your eyes. Everything in the room is white, white sheets, white curtains, white wallpaper, the cabinets are also painted white. Something or should you say someone, sitting on the white couch does not follow the all-white aesthetic of the room. He was wearing black leader jacket on top of a blue henley. His metal arm is holding a Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban book, while his flesh hand is flipping through the page. His expression is priceless, you can tell from his expression alone that he’s very invested in the scene that he’s reading.

“How long was I asleep?” Your voice catches Bucky’s attention, you kind of regretted speaking too soon, maybe you should’ve let him read for a while longer. “You’re already on the third book.”

“Let’s just say I’m a fast reader.” Bucky smiles and puts down the book on the table beside the couch. “You’ve been out for about …” He looks at his smartphone. “ 7, 8 hrs.”

“That explains my growling stomach.” You push yourself up into a sitting position, with the pillow serving as the cushion between your back and the bed’s headboard.

Bucky gets two trays of food in the small refrigerator and places them inside the microwave. “Sam gave us food before leaving for the mission. He told me that food will be the first thing that you will ask for, once you wake up.”

You laugh at Sam’s comment. “He isn’t wrong though.”

“Are you feeling better now?” Ding. Bucky takes out the first tray of food to the microwave and then places the second one. With the tray in one hand, he pulls the table with the other. He places the tray on top of the table in front of you.

“Thanks.” You fix the tray and Bucky goes back to the microwave oven. “I’m feeling much better now. Thank you.”

You search around the room for a place where Bucky can eat but you found none. So while Bucky was busy finding the utensils and getting the second tray from the microwave, you scoot your way towards the side of the bed and push the table outwards. This way, you and Bucky can sit beside each other and can eat on an actual table.

Bucky notices what you did and hesitates a little. You smiled at him, to reassure him and pat the empty space beside you. From the time when he first met you, he hasn’t been able to resist that smile. He’s starting to think that maybe this isn’t just because you reminded him of Steve.

“Sam hasn’t come back from the mission?” You start the conversation.

“No.” Bucky chews on the food inside his mouth. “The mission got a little delayed, they might come back late.”

You take a spoonful of rice to eat. “Who’s he with?”

Bucky thinks for a moment. “He’s with Clint and Scott if I remember correctly.”

“Why didn’t you join them?”

“I was -” Bucky takes a sip from the glass of water beside him. “I was busy reading.”

You almost choke on what you were eating. “You read three books!” You laugh. “You must’ve been exhausting.”

“Well the book isn’t going to read itself, you know.”

You both laugh at your sarcastic banter. The two of you continue your conversation while talking about how Bucky’s first day at the Avengers tower went. He was introduced to a few avengers present at the tower and the staff and he toured around the compound. He also mentions something about having a room in the tower, where he can stay if he wants to.

Bucky notices how you were gathering the boiled carrots on one side of your plate. “You hate carrots?”

“Oh!” You were surprised that he noticed. “I actually love carrots. I’m just saving these.” You point at the carrots. ”for Rain.”

He looks at his almost empty plate. “You should’ve told me that we’re doing that. I could have saved some for him too.”

“Giving him a place to stay for the night is enough.” You assure him. “I’ll take care of the food.”

“Too late for task distribution. I already bought him milk.”

“You did?!”

Bucky nods.

“I literally just met you yesterday, and I already owe you a lot. How can I even start repaying you.

“Well.” Bucky thinks about it for a second and smiles mischievously. “Sam must’ve mentioned something about your interest to the Wakandan tech.”

“He did?!” You cringe and facepalm at the amount of shame that you feel. “Well. That’s not a good first impression, isn’t it.”

“As a matter of fact, it IS a good first impression. You’re really good at what you do Y/N.”

“Why do I find that hard to believe?” You chuckle. “But yeah,” You continue. ”I can’t deny my interest. I probably talk about the Wakandan tech at least once a day. Thrice, if you’re Sam Wilson.”

“With that being said,” Bucky says. “You can repay me by allowing me to join your conversations about the tech.” Bucky flexes the fingers of his metal arm. “And I can use some help in checking up on this one. I mean, if it’s alright with you?”

“Of course it is! You don’t need to ask to join, you can join in anytime you want! You’ll have a valuable input to the conversation. You’ve been there personally and you’ve experienced their technology first hand.” You take Bucky’s metal hand and sandwich it in between yours. “Thank you, Bucky.” You squeeze Bucky’s hand and let it go. “I’m betting Sam told you about my obsession with Wakandan tech.”

“In your defense, Sam talks a lot.” Bucky assures you.

“He does. And he would hate it if you join our conversations.”

“I’m counting on that.”

“But seriously, I would love you - “ You pause. “I mean - you joining our -”

“I would love that too.”

Bucky doesn’t let you finish your sentence. You didn’t need to. It wasn’t necessary. In a span of two days, you made Bucky feel the most comfortable, and awkward but moreso, you made him feel normal. Despite knowing who he is, you didn’t show any signs of fear, or pity. You just showed yourself. And it was enough to make him think and feel that whatever it is that you would love to do, he wants to be part of it, too.

End

A/N: This came out longer than expected! Hahaha. I would usually limit my one-shots to 1-2k words but this came out loner than expected. I had a lot of fun writing Sam and Bucky's dynamic! You have to have that good balance of care and sarcasm between the two of them. That was enjoyable to do (that's probably why this ended up having 4,5k+ words). Did you enjoy reading it? I hope you did! Feel free to write your thoughts below!

Masterlist

[jobean12-blog]

HE CAUGHT HER and holy fuck so hot! And I will be waiting…ready, desperate. Incredible! These feelings are so palpable!!! 🫠❤️

Contagious - Slaughter pt. 2

Pairing: dark!Winter Soldier x f!reader (any race)

WC: 2.3k

Summary: your mysterious visitor returns

Warnings: dark!!, masturbation, edging, knife play, blood, marking, pet names [little lamb], smut [p in v], oral [m receiving], degradation

A/N: lowkey inspired by my favorite pierce the veil song, I Don’t Care if You’re Contagious <3 please lmk what you think!!

part 1: slaughter | full masterlist | bucky masterlist

"I will see you again, little lamb. Soon, very soon."

You're still reeling three weeks after your encounter with the man in your room. You still catch yourself peeking over your shoulder, waiting for him. 

When you go to bed each night, your thoughts drift to him. The way his hands felt on your skin, the drag of his blade down your spine. 

As if still under his command, your hand never fails to drift down to the crux of your thighs, rubbing slow, methodical circles into your sensitive spot.

"I want to ruin you, to paint you with the darkness that flows through my veins. My sacrificial lamb, ready for the slaughter."

His words haunt you, his eyes seared into your brain.

As you lay in bed tonight, you find yourself in the same position as always. Face pressed into your mattress, ass high in the air just like he'd placed you that night. You try your best to relieve the throbbing need you feel, but your fingers don't do nearly as good of a job as his cock had.

"There is no god, little lamb."

You moan at the memory of his words, at how fucked up it all had been. Never in your life had you been as turned on as you had that night. It was like he'd cracked your head open and dug around until he found your deepest and darkest fantasies. Things you hadn't even admitted to yourself that you wanted.

The names he'd called you, the things he'd done to you…

You shiver, trying to picture him pressing his knife to your cheek.

"So fuckin' perfect, taking what I give you. You like it? Yeah? You like being fucked like a whore?"

No matter what you do or how hard you try, nothing comes close to being as good as the real thing. 

The Soldier hasn’t liked being away from you for so long. It wasn’t his intention, not at all. He’d been called out on a mission, and the moment he reached the city, he found his way to you.

He scales your building easily, settling himself outside your bedroom window. And oh, what a sight you are naked and writing for him.

With your back arched, fingers working your clit hard, you are a vision of depravity and beauty. He feels his cock harden instantly as he watches you. He wonders what you’re thinking about; he wonders how wet you are. How desperate you’ve gotten.

After a few moments of watching you drive yourself to the edge of your climax, he slides your window open. Stupid little lamb, he thinks, you’re just asking for someone to come in here and have their way with you.

You’re so wrapped up in your fantasy, mind filled with the man’s voice, that you don’t hear your window open. You don’t hear his footsteps on the floor, nor do you notice him standing beside your bed, watching you intently.

It isn’t until he reaches out and moves your hair out of your face that you freeze.

Your eyes fly open, and you crumple in on yourself, trying to retain some of your dignity, but it’s no use.

The man stares down at you, eyes devouring your figure. Your skin heats under his gaze. Most of his face is concealed by a black mask, but you can tell just from the look in his eyes that he’s ready to destroy you.

“Don’t stop,” he says, voice slightly muffled from the mask. “Don’t fuckin’ stop, little lamb.” Just his voice, the way he says your pet name has heat rushing to your clit, making it pulse with need.

The Soldier crouches beside you until he’s at eye level with you. “What, too shy now?” His voice is taunting. He wants a reaction out of you.

“N-no, it’s just–” you stammer, unable to get the words out. His presence is so threatening, you know he’s deadly, but that just makes him that much more attractive to you. You swallow your pride and give in to your desires. “I’d rather you do it.”

Your words make something crack in the Soldier. He growls, low and deep in his chest, and rips off the leather gloves from his hands. A breath later, he’s kneeling between your legs, fingers running over your soft skin.

“Do you think about me?” he asks, his touch ghosting over your abdomen. You shiver beneath his touch, arching your back to try and get him to touch you where you want him. Where you need him.

“Ngh– yes,” you hiss, his fingers brushing over your swollen clit. You’d lost track of how long you’d been playing with yourself before the man’s arrival, but all you know is you couldn’t finish with just your fingers. You needed him to push you over the edge.

“What a good little lamb,” the man whispers, slowly circling your clit with a calloused finger. His metal hand grips your waist tightly; you’ll have bruises tomorrow. “So fuckin’ wet for me.”

You writhe beneath him, a combination of sensitivity and his perfect fingers playing you like a goddamn violin driving you right up to the edge after just a few moments. 

“Please, please, please,” you whimper, begging him to give you the release you’re craving. The man cocks his head, and even with the mask on, you can tell he’s planning something. 

Just as you’re about to climax, he removes his hand. 

You groan at the loss of his fingers, feeling your orgasm fading. Your clit pulses, and you try to bring your thighs together to alleviate the pressure, but you can’t with the man’s large body between your legs.

“Just as pathetic as I left you,” he sneers. “My dumb little lamb, did you consider that you don’t deserve to come yet?” Tears prick in the corners of your eyes as you shake your head.

The man huffs, bringing his hands to his belt, undoing it, and swiftly pulling it through the loops on his pants. A moment later, he flicks open the button and drags the zipper down on his fly.

Your mouth waters at the memory of how he’d used your mouth and throat for his pleasure, how he’d forced you to take all of him.

“Come here and suck my cock like the little slut you are, and then we’ll see if you deserve to come.” You shift onto your hands and knees as the man moves to stand beside the bed. 

His hands tangle in your hair, pulling at it to guide you into position. You take his cock out of his pants and gently kiss the tip before licking down his shaft. His taste fills your mouth, and you moan around his length.

“Good girl,” he says through gritted teeth, grip tightening in your hair as you take him deeper and deeper. “Fuckin’ missed the way your throat squeezes me.” You preen at his praise, trying harder to please him more. Your hand works at the length of him that you can’t take in your mouth, and you stare up at him, watching his eyebrows pinch with pleasure.

Never in your life have you truly enjoyed giving oral; you’ve never found pleasure in the action. Until him; until now. You want nothing more than to bring him pleasure, to make the man feel good. 

The Soldier watches you take his cock with amazement. He’s never seen anything as beautiful as you.

Your eyes flick up to his as you force yourself to take his entire cock in your throat. He feels you gag, but you don’t pull away. He nearly comes at the sight, but he wants to save that. He wants to feel you squeezing his cock with your pretty pussy. He wants to come deep inside of you. So deep that you won’t ever be able to forget about him.

He uses his grip on your hair to pull you off his dick with a lewd pop. You pant as he adjusts your position, laying you down on your back with your legs spread in front of him.

You’re so much more beautiful like this, cock drunk and needy for him.

You’re perfect.

The Soldier leans over you, running his face along your neck. Even though you have no clothes for him to cut off of you tonight, he still reaches a hand into his pocket and flips out his knife. He loves how you shiver when he drags the blade down your skin. The way your heartbeat speeds up.

He sits up, showing you the knife, and your breath hitches. You hate admitting it to yourself, but you’d missed the feeling of the cool steel against your skin.

The Soldier traces a line up your leg from ankle to hip, not causing any damage but still making you shake.

He traces your nipples with the tip of the knife, causing them to perk up more. Your back arches into the feeling without you willing it to. The Soldier tsks you, but he loves the way you respond to everything he does. 

“I’m going to fuck you now, little lamb,” he explains, letting the knife drift down your abdomen, circling your belly button, and finally pressing gently against your aching clit. “And you’re going to take it like a good girl. Do you understand?” Your breaths come out shaky as you stare down at the blade.

You nod quickly. “Yes, yes, I understand.” The man lines his thick cock up with your weeping pussy and presses into you with one brutal thrust.

“Fuck,” the man groans, adjusting his grip on the knife, so it no longer presses against your clit, but rather the inside of your thigh. “Take my fuckin’ cock.” 

Your tears spill freely down your cheeks at the stretch of your pussy taking him. It hurts so so good.

He sets a deep and punishing pace, hitting every sensitive spot within you, and all you can do is lay there and take it.

Your hands grip your sheets with every thrust, keeping you anchored to this world. Searing pain in your leg brings your head back down to earth, and your eyes flash open.

The man has stilled his thrusts to focus instead on carving something into your fleshy thigh. You grit your teeth through the pain but never tell him to stop. 

You realize you should be angry; you should be furious that he’s just marked you like that. You don’t even know his name, and he’s scarred you for life. But you’re not mad. You’re so turned on, so delirious with pleasure, that you don’t care.

The man looks up at you, his flesh hand wiping the blood from your wound just to smear it on your abdomen.

“You’re mine, little lamb. All. Fucking. Mine.” He punctuates every word with a deep thrust, fucking you brutally. More of your blood sticks to him every time his body connects with yours, but he doesn’t care.

The mixture of pain and pleasure comes together to bring you right to the edge. Only the man fucking you is the one who can send you over.

“I’m gonna– please, can I –” You can barely get the words out, can barely get air into your lungs.

“You wanna come?” the man asks, leaning down, staring intensely into your eyes. “You wanna come all over my cock like a whore?” Your eyes screw shut as you moan at his words.

“Please,” you whisper over and over like a prayer. The Soldier loves hearing you pray to him, begging him to give you what you want. 

“This pretty pussy’s been taking me so good,” he says, cocking his head. “I think she deserves to come.” Your whole body goes tight, knowing you couldn’t come without his permission.

“Oh my god, thank you, thank you, thank you,” you moan as you come undone. Heat and pleasure shoot through your body, up your spine, making your fingers tingle. 

“Don’t thank god, little lamb. Thank me,” he grunts, getting closer to his own climax. “I’m your fucking god.”

He comes with a loud groan, filling you up with his seed. You can’t help but arch into him, loving how it feels to have him pulsing inside you.

When the Soldier pulls out, he immediately mourns the loss of your warmth wrapped around him. The sight of you dripping with his cum makes him feel better, though.

He sits back on his heels and runs his thumb over the cuts on your leg. You watch with hooded eyes as he unclasps his mask and brings that bloodied finger to his mouth, sucking it clean.

Your chest heaves, exhaustion taking over. Your eyes take in his beautiful but deadly face. The sinister grin he sports, his dark eyes.

“You did so good, little lamb,” he praises, dropping his fingers down to your leaking pussy. He presses his cum back inside you with two digits, pumping a few times. You moan, sensitive and overstimulated. “So good for me.”

The man stands, pulling his clothes back into place as your lids droop. You don’t want to fall asleep; you want to stay awake and ask him who he is, where he comes from. But you don’t get the chance to.

The Soldier pulls a blanket over your naked form and smooths your hair away from your forehead. “Rest,” he whispers, his voice almost sounding gentle. “I’ll be back.”

The following day when you wake, you’re sore all over, but all you can focus on is the marking on your inner thigh. You couldn’t tell what it was when he’d initially cut you, but now that you’ve cleaned the blood off, you see it’s a little star.

It matches the one on his metal arm, and you warm at the thought.

You know he’ll be back, and you’ll be waiting. Ready and desperate for him.

You’re infected by him.

And I don't care if you're sick, I don't care if you're contagious.

I would kiss you even if you were dead.

I'm gonna tear out the thread one by one from your skin,

'Till your bones feel embarrassed from all the attention.

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[saltsicklover]

Dear 201 - Fan Mail Pt. 5

Title: Dear 201 - Fan Mail Pt. 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2650

Rating: T

Warnings: Drinking, anger, fucking angst. Steve Rogers is a fucking asshole. 

-- To be continued. I hope you enjoy! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list :) --

Disclaimer: I do not own Bucky Barnes, or anything related to Marvel within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

Three little numbers both thrill and terrify Bucky in equal measure- he started to see the numbers everywhere after he received the letter from Ace. The news didn't seem to surprise Steve or Sam in the way it did Bucky. Steve has always been one to take news like a shot of neat whisky, the information flowing into him, burning, but on the outside he still remains stoic. Sam, on the other hand, seemed to take the news like the beach takes the tide, the news rolling over him like he had known it was coming, something he had come to learn already. As Bucky told him the news, the waves of his voice washed over him and he welcomed them like an old friend. 

After the news broke, Bucky kept his next move close to his chest like a winning poker hand. The chips of his decision twirl threw his fingers, folding over his knuckles as he waits for his turn to bid. Sam has urged him to move decide, to write faster, to move faster. Bucky doesn't let the words get to him. 

One night after too much alcohol stolen from Thor, the Asgardian liquor coursing through their systems, Steve tells Bucky to leave it be- to quit writing all together. 

"Seriously, Buck, you don't need the headache of all this," Steve mumbles a bit, speaking more to himself than to Bucky who is splayed out on the couch across from him. 

"What did you say?" Bucky questions him, his brows furrowing. He pulls his focus from the letters he has been rifling through, the letters from her. 

"You don't need to write her anymore," Steve says as a matter of fact, "You don't need to deal with this anymore," He doesn't bother looking at Bucky, if he would he doesn't think he could stop his eyes from rolling. Instead, he keeps his eyes locked on his glass, swirling the liquid around with a gentle twist of his wrist. He watches the amber colored concoction move around the glass, his attention better spent on that than he friend and the situation Buck finds himself in. Steve has deemed it ridiculous, too good to be true, a flat out fucking lie. 

"Deal with what, exactly, Steve?" Bucky sits up now, clutching the letters a little tighter. The paper bunches under his touch, the new wrinkles spreading like roots through the words. 

"This, this shit, Bucky!" Steve raises his voice; it echoes through the room, bristling over Bucky's form, striking a nerve. 

"Excuse me?" Bucky manages, the words spit from his lips full of venom and animosity. His body tightens, the tendons in his neck pulling tight as he squares his shoulders with a bit too much force. He sets his jaw, teeth threatening to grind together to release some of the anger that is taking over his veins with pump of his heart, the tension in the air scalding this insides with each breath he draws. 

Bucky would go to war for this woman, the mystery he has come to adore who lays just on the other side of the postal route, the stamp, the words, the ink. He hadn't thought about it until this very moment, Steve's words spurring something inside of Bucky, his chest burning at the thought of losing his 'Warmest Regards", the thought causes nausea to swim through Bucky, sweat overtaking his skin with pinpricks of anxiety. 

Steve turns his face up, eyes coming up to see the sweat collecting on Bucky's brow. Bucky is almost seething, his body threating to vibrate with anger. "You know what, don't even bother finishing that sentence," Bucky corrects, holding a flat hand out to Steve as if to say 'stop'. Bucky shakes his head, bangs falling forward, concealing the band of sweat that coats his skin. 

He wants to blame the alcohol for Steve's words, for the anger that poured out of them and into Bucky. He wrings his hands, letters sitting haphazardly in his lap. He wants to blame the alcohol for the way his heart seems to be imprinting itself on the inside of his ribcage and the way his hands shake. For the sweat that seems to have taken over his body, chilling him with a sense of sickness. But the only thing he can blame the alcohol for is the fact that it started their evening together in the first place. 

What started as a night to just let go and relax from the strenuous missions and never ending paperwork has turned into honesty hour that has left Bucky feeling sick to his stomach, both from the anger and the liquor he decided couldn't touch him. But now the room spins and his best friend sits across from him, eyes burning into his own. 

"I just mean, what if this is all some sort of ploy to get something out of you? What if whoever is writing you isn't this girl that claims to be on the other side. What if they aren't a barber in Hell's Kitchen? What if they are just in this for money or fame or for the story? Hell, what if they are some terrorist or threat trying to get close to you in order to bring us down? What then, Buck?" Steve's words bite and there is nothing too soothe the marks they leave in Bucky. His chest aches, and Steve's does too; the aches blooming from original sources but crippling each man with a dull pain that doesn't seem to subside. 

Bucky runs his hand over his sternum, pressing hard with his knuckles, trying to counter the ache with pressure from the outside. Steve knocks back the rest of his drink, tasting like honey but burning all the way down. This time he grimaces. Bucky does too, stomach acid burning in his chest. 

Words halt, the world seems to, too. It's like everything has slowed, each movement, each beat of Bucky's heart, each thought that creeps into Bucky's mind that tells him he isn't good enough to have someone write to him- someone so soft and full of love, full of light, on the other side of the paper with ink stained fingertips. Someone like that would be too good for him, he thinks, maybe Steve is right. 

The world resumes speed when a glass leaves Bucky's hand, one he didn't realize he had picked up until the shattered pieces of crystal mingle with the leftover honey flavored amber that resided at the bottom of the glass moments before. The shards look like constellations, each sharp point sparkling in the light of the living room. They beg to be touched, the blade like corners glimmering as the men eye the new universe that has been created on the floor between them. 

"Weren't you the one telling me all those weeks ago that a letter was coming for me? Aren't you the one who couldn't contain their excitement along with me every single time another letter showed up with my name on it? Weren't you the one cheering me on through this? What the fuck happened, Steve?" Bucky sounds almost defeated, burying his head in his hands. He grips at his hair tightly, knuckles threatening to turn white under the pressure. 

Steve can't seem to make his brain work, his mind refusing to form thoughts that would do any good at defending himself. Bucky is right, he thinks- he knows. All those weeks ago when Bucky received that first letter, Steve memorized the pride that burst through his chest at the sight. He remembers the smile that adorned his friend's face just moments before the photo. Steve also remembers the steam that filled his lungs as he was forced to hear Bucky sob just a few feet away, unable to do anything to make the hurt stop. 

Bucky is his best friend, and all those years ago Steve sent Bucky over the beam first shortly after rescuing him, putting his own safety, his own life on the line to make sure Bucky got out first. It was then he decided Bucky's life was the most important thing and just the mere idea of Bucky getting hurt, or heaven forbid getting himself killed, because he got himself in too deep with a 'pen pal' makes Steve physically sick. 

Again, neither men dare to speak, each having voiced their concern. Nobody ever said airing out grievances was easy. They both sit their, their words hanging in the air, dense with meaning. They feel almost suffocating, the sentences wrapping themselves around each man and squeezing. Maybe that's the way it's suppose to feel- the protection of a best friend constricting itself around the body until there is no space to breathe. 

Tears begin to prick at the corners of Bucky's eyes, a heat coming up his chest cavity, a sob threatening to escape his gritted teeth. The sight hurts Steve but he makes no move to correct it, to sooth his friend or to speak. Everything is out on the table, and it needs to stay that way. 

Instead, he pushes himself up, the room swaying around him. It has been a long time since he's been drunk, and maybe it needs to be a long time before it happens again. Steve steps over the shards shakily, moving towards his quarters. He stops just before rounding the corner, daring to look back at the scene he is leaving behind him. 

Bucky sits frozen, an unreadable expression written into the lines of his face. His brows are furrowed, a deep line tracing itself on the skin between his brows. His lips are pulled into a tight line, teeth no doubt clenched together to keep a sob from escaping. A few tears have spilled themselves over the Bucky's face, wet, warm trails coasting down his cheeks. The tears fall from his chin. He closes his eyes, chancing a deep breath to steady himself. 

"I just want you safe, Buck," Steve whispers, his voice barely audible, but Bucky hears it. He knows Bucky hears it because a small noise somewhere between a whimper and a cry comes out strangled and falls from his lips. 

Steve disappears, leaving Bucky a broken mess on the couch, a universe of broken glass in front of him. A sight that would surely break even a tough man- that exact thought keeping Steve from turning around again. The truth hurts, he repeats to himself, over and over and over. He repeats it not only to justify the hurt he has caused but the hurt that has bound itself to his insides, squeezing with each low and ragged breathe. 

In some twisted way, Steve thought that if he could hurt Bucky before she could, maybe it would hurt less. Maybe, if Steve thought it was a bad idea, Bucky wouldn't write her back, or maybe he would, just to tell her to never contact him again. Maybe its the jealousy that thrums through Steve at the thought of losing a friend, or maybe it's because he can't stand to see Bucky get close to someone when there is no one in the world that is bidding for his attention.

Steve gets letters, sure. But they are mostly from old women and family's he has saved or reunited. He also gets mail from children who have come to idolize him and he gets mail asking him to participate at local schools and to make appearances. They all want something or are thanking him for something he has already done, his time and energy already given.   

It's supposed to be Steve and Bucky till the end of the line and women never got in the way of that before, but they way Bucky looks at those letters, his eyes lighting up at the words gives Steve pause. Bucky has never been this way about a women before and hell, maybe Steve should learn to be happy for his friend but instead the jealousy just eats away at him form the inside out. 

When Bucky finally pulls himself from the couch he is shaking, tears stain his skin dry and cracking. He walks past the glass, the discarded crystal left to lay in waste on the floor. The whole universe in the shards becoming increasingly less important with each step Bucky takes towards his quarters. 

He manages to pen a letter through his shaking, the lines of his letters wobbly. A few stray tears manage to fall onto the paper the ink smearing under them. 

"Dear 201, I need to know that you are real. I need to know that you aren't just some sort of conspiracy or threat trying to get close enough to me to burn everything that surrounds me to the ground. 

I need you to be real because I have this blurry image of you in my head that I need to make clear. I need to focus into all the details of you and commit them to memory. Each little, beautiful, imperfect piece. I crave the sight of you in your entirety.

I need to hear your laugh- I need to know if it sounds like pure joy blooming into the world. I need to hold your hands, to see the wear and calloses that adorn them. I need to know how your hand feels wrapped in mine when we shake the first time we meet. I need to know if it will ground me in the way your letters do. I crave you in your pieces and parts. 

Most of all, I need you to be real because you are the best damn thing that has happened to me in years and if you aren't real- hell, if you aren't real, I don't know what I would make of myself. 

With too much hope and heartache- Bucky Barnes" 

Before the war, Bucky knew how to talk to women. Each dip of his voice and brush of a well placed finger had any women swooning over him. He had his pick, each and every time, knowing just what to say to earn himself a kiss at the end of the night. But never before this moment has he poured his heart out in its entirety. 

There is nothing left in him to say- hell, there is nothing left in him to feel. He is now too barren to think or hope or cry. Every single piece of him now lies written in dark ink, the letters smudged and imperfect. There is no blood left in his chest, his heart now pumping electricity alone and it courses through him, numbing his already sore being with each mingling prickle. 

The tear drops have dried now, but the paper is wrinkled where they once fell. The markings like gravestones for the hurt and hope that poured out of him, not only from his pen but from his heart. 

He doesn't think twice about sending it, he doesn't have to. Like words spoken to gods, it was sent the moment it was said. The words are meant to be heard; there isn't a thing in the universe that can stop such a cosmic circumstance. 

Sleep takes Bucky the moment his head hits the pillow, the catharsis of the evening allowing his body to rest. He sleeps on his mattress tonight, the blankets wrapping his body like a shroud. He sleeps like the dead as there is nothing left in him to keep him awake. 

Steve doesn't sleep. Instead, he drinks, letting the Asgardian liquor continue to numb his senses. The room spins around him as sickness snakes itself through his body, making itself at home in the deepest parts of him. 

Maybe that's how it is supposed to feel when you bare your soul to another. Honesty being rewarded with rest and respite while envious anger is rewarded with anguish in equal measure. 

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[puppypeter]

✨ All fics are complete! ✨

War, Children | 106615 words

After Bucky was released from the hospital, it only took him a couple of weeks to give up on himself. Difficult to believe in any kind of future when the simple act of staying alive was almost too big an effort.

Out the frosted window, across the street, there was a tiny homeless guy burrowing under an awning.

Almost Like An Accident | 26666 words 

Bucky's a ex-POW vet who's down on his luck. Steve's a vet who landed a little more on his feet. Aka, hooker!Bucky fic.

Critical Feline Mass | 39533 words

Adjusting to civilian life is hard for any military veteran — especially for one ex-sniper with a cybernetic arm, a classic Harley, and friends who keep trying to ‘help.’ When Sam Wilson at the VA sends Sergeant Barnes to rent a room from the hottest guy in the DC area, Bucky thinks maybe civilian life is worth it after all. And then he finds out Captain Rogers is everything Bucky’s not: a real hero, a Medal of Honor recipient, and an all-around nice guy. Bucky doesn’t have a chance in hell with him.

Sam was a huge help to Steve Rogers when he left the military. In the spirit of ‘pay it forward,’ Steve decides to rent out his basement room to a vet in need. But when Sergeant Barnes shows up on his doorstep, he knows he’s in for a world of trouble. Barnes is exactly what Steve never knew he wanted, from his bedroom eyes to his wicked innuendos. And he’s Steve’s tenant.

A love story in twelve chapters, including two Harley-Davidsons, a guardian angel, multiple snipers, the only woman who can scare them into behaving themselves, spontaneous kittens, and one attacking sheep.

Sorry, Not Sorry | 51566 words

All Steve Rogers ever wanted was to do what's right. So when he drops in to volunteer at the Brooklyn VA Outpatient Center, he’s surprised to learn some veterans actually resent Captain America and everything he represents. One veteran in particular is determined to make sure Steve understands just how much he dislikes him.

Gimme Shelter | 84354 words  

Bucky Barnes is a homeless, recovering addict and veteran; he's accepted to a VA homeless shelter pilot program meant to help vets get back on their feet. He has his work cut out for him: he needs to find a job, save money, and find housing, but he's getting sidetracked by his attraction to Steve Rogers, one of the therapists in the program. He's kind, smart, funny, and clearly, in a relationship. But Bucky can't help the feeling that Steve is interested in him too.

Thawing | 41771 words | Part 1 of Thawing 

Heroin. It's a helluva drug.

Life Sentence | 70470 words | Part 2 of Thawing

No one tells you that withdrawals are only the beginning. Bucky thinks he's starting to understand why.

A Little Unsteady | 7293 words

Sometimes, when you're feeling unsteady, it's okay to take somebody's offer of a hand up. Bucky and Steve are homeless veterans, Sam is a cinnamon roll, too good for this world. This story is rated M, primarily for language and the hint of a relationship between Bucky and Steve in the future.

Trained On You | 93460 words

Bucky Barnes is disabled veteran who's trying to learn how to live his life now without his left arm. His best friend Natasha pushes him to build up the strength and confidence he'd lost along with his limb at the Rally Health and Wellness Center with the help of top notch trainer/physical therapist Sam Wilson.

Bucky knew it'd be hard work. What he didn't realize was just how difficult it'd be to concentrate on his own rehabilitation at the innocuous, easygoing gym. But after he first lays eyes on new trainer and walking wet dream Steve Rogers, it's all he can do not to fall face first on the treadmill.

Working out had never gotten Bucky so worked up before. Go hard or go home? Yeah, he's definitely going home hard.

Click here for more fic recs!

[jpat82]

The Shoe

7.) where's your shoe? - The giant mud puddle down the road demanded a sacrifice. - but why your shoe? I mean they were nice shoes but they weren’t your best shoes.

You limped through the wet grass, bits of dirt clung to your pant leg. The rifle was slung over your shoulder as you trudged up the hill. Thoughts from the last week trying to surface its way back to your mind. Ones you didn’t necessarily want to think about. The sounds of rifles, bombs and screams of agony. The smell of hot metal and gun powder mixed with copper. Feeling the earth vibrate under your feet as your heart thudded heavily in your chest. Watching as bricks turned to dust before your eyes, and fiery balls lift skyward.

People would say you should of seen it coming, should of known better. But really when you joined your friends for a trip you didn’t expect to suddenly be thrown into a fight, okay more like a war. Had you known the trip to an all inclusive jungle tour was code for stopping some really pissed off and heavily armed militants you would of probably passed. Who knows where they went or why you were now walking to who knows where covered in mud, brick dust, bits of vegetation. Some where during the third or maybe fifth explosion you lost your right shoe, but gained a rifle not that you know how to use it.

You continued to limp up the hill, hoping like hell this was the last one, you lost count yesterday or was it the day before on how many you had climbed. Your head was pounding and you had dry mouth, you knew you were dehydrated. And seeing the purple rhinoceros that casually munching or vibrant pink rocks to left really emphasized on the fact you desperately needed sleep. If it weren’t for the fact you had no idea where you were or if these crazy people shooting other crazy people were maybe you would stop to sleep. Then again you were in the jungle and with the luck you were having you would probably be eaten by a tiger or an electric yellow river otter. Alas, you breached the top of the hill.

Slowly you sank to your knees, tears began to fall down your dust covered cheeks as you looked down at the thick jungle terrain before you. Emerald tops of trees, vines intermixing with the leaves making them thicker was all that you could see. Just endless sea of green rolling before you. You dropped your head to chest as a bit of sweat dripped off your chin onto torn and dampened shirt. You would die here, you knew it. And your so called friends left you to die here. If you knew where they were you would threaten to haunt them. Rainbow slime oozed out before you like the yellow brick road to the destiny of your death.

The steady hum of air craft could be heard over the chirping and squawking of the native birds. Hallucinations, that’s all they were. You knew none of it was real but damn it did the grass have to bend as if there was actually an air craft present?

“Where’s your shoe?” A distinct voice came from behind you. You looked over your shoulder, the metal arm caught a glint of the sun blinding you momentarily.

“The road demanded a sacrifice.” You responded drily as Bucky approached you.

“But why your shoe?” He asked gently as he bent down next to you and pulled your arm over his shoulder. The cool metal of his arm felt nice against the heat of your body.

“I dunno?” You replied allowing him to pull you to your feet, allowing him to carry your weight.

“Don’t get me wrong they were nice shoes, but they weren’t your best shoes.” He joked as he turned you toward the jet looking thing. “I mean I do t want to go outside tomorrow night find it slunk out in middle of the pathway.”

“Why did you guys leave me?” You croaked out.

“We didn’t mean to kid, we were trying to gather intel. Didn’t expect them to start firing rounds.” He replied, you could hear in his voice the guilt. “We didn’t mean for you or anyone else for matter to get caught in the middle of it.”

“If that’s what you guys were doing why did you bring me?” You asked as the two of you crossed into the air craft.

“It didn’t turn into an intel mission until after we got there.” He explained helping you onto cot and buckling you in. “We, okay I, just to hang out and you had always talked about wanting to go on an exotic tour.”

“I was think more one of those you drive through at a park, not deep in the Amazon.” You sighed, you looked down as you felt a pinch in your arm. Bucky had put an IV in your arm.

“Okay, next time we’ll take the boring route, forgive me?” He asked, tilting his head slightly blue puppy dog eyes staring at you.

“Next time, I pick.” You stated closing your eyes allowing much needed sleep to pull you under.

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[mushyjellybeans]

Hugs for Bucky (Bucky Barnes X Reader)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Your cute and adorable gesture is warming Bucky's heart.

Warnings: Adorable bucky, Bucky’s way with words, bad writing, not sure if this one shot even makes sense.

A/N: I’ve posted two fics today, woohoo. Requests are open!

Hugging didn't come easy for the former winter soldier. Years of torture, in and out of the freezer like a lump of meat, unspeakable torture that happened during reset that even he couldn't remember.

His former silver and red star metal arm was a monument for the hundreds of victims he was brainwashed and ordered to eliminate.

He has since received a new black and gold arm, a fresh chapter if you like. It felt more comfortable than the other arm. It felt comfortable. He bonded with it like a puppy. Bucky was particularly happy about being able to wear black short-sleeved clothing and it not standing out against his arm.

His arm was still powerful, could still harm someone if he allowed it to. Even though the trigger words were erased from memory, he was still worried about it.

That's why it came as a surprise to him when you joined the avengers, you threw your body at him and wrapped your arms around his torso, offering a friendly hug instead of a handshake and a smile like the rest of the group. He wouldn't lie and say he wasn't taken aback by your gesture, because he absolutely was.

In truth, you loved his hugs. He always enveloped you in his warmth. The man was a walking furnace. On a really cold evening, when the team would host movie nights, they would always find you huddled up close to the super-soldier on the couch. You hoped Bucky never minded you invading his personal space. He never said anything, but you're not the mind reader here, Wanda is. But she did tell you that perhaps you're coming off as too clingy and advised you should back off a bit.

And that's what you did, for weeks. Your sudden change of demeanor confused the hell out of Bucky. Did he say or do something wrong? Did he squeeze you too hard one time? He had no idea why you suddenly weren't asking him for hugs, and by asking; it was usually you just sticking your arms out wide like a child inviting him into your space. But he loved it. The sweet and adorable gesture by his favorite person made his day.

And not once did he ever refuse your hugs. You were the only avenger in the compound not scared of him or his arm.

You happened to be having a bad day. It was barely morning and you've already been yelled at by Bruce for spilling coffee in the lab and he ordered you out. "Just one of those days.." you mumbled to yourself, making your way back to your room to sulk in for the rest of the day.

You decided to take a day by yourself, maybe Wanda was right. Maybe you were clingy and insecure and tried hard to make others like you. Was that creepy? You always felt like you were saying and doing the wrong things.

You planted yourself face-first into your bed, bouncing a little from the impact. You let out an exaggerated groan and crawled up to your pillow. "Y/n." A voice from behind you called out. You lifted your head to look over your shoulder and saw Bucky leaning against your wall with his arms crossed over his chest, the audacity you groaned internally. "Are you okay?" He asked with concern in his voice, you mumbled an answer into your pillow, causing the super soldier to chuckle. "Sorry for intruding..." he started, walking towards your bed and sitting on the edge of the mattress before continuing, "I heard a groan and thought you were in pain." You were thankful for the pillow since you were positive you were blushing from his tenderness. Whoever said this man doesn't have a heart. "So are you okay?" He asked again, a bit worried by your lack of response. You sat up, crossing your legs underneath you, your hands playing with a bit of fabric on the end of your baggy shirt. You sigh deeply, "I'm just having a bad day." You shyly admitted. There was no point in lying to him, he can read people and knew if you were lying. You poked your tongue out to lick your suddenly dry lips, your breath hitched in the back of your throat when his hand came out in front of you to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I get it doll," he said quietly. Without another word spoken, he got up to kick his shoes off, lying down on the opposite side of your bed. You followed his move and quirked an eyebrow at him. And for the first time in a couple of weeks, he held his arms wide like you had done at the beginning, offering his personal space to you. "Do you wanna cuddle?" He asked innocently with a lopsided smile. How could you say no? You didn't. You couldn't help the smile that made the way to your lips, laying your head on his chest as he pulled you as close as possible without actually melting into him. Home, this felt like home.

"I've missed this." He admitted shyly, breaking the comfortable silence. You hummed in response, "me too. I was just afraid I was annoying you." You said quietly. Bucky tutted in response, "never, doll." He replied, rubbing his hand that was perched on your shoulder up and down your back. "Do you wanna watch a movie?" You asked now breaking the silence that fell upon you once again, still listening intently to his heartbeat.

"Doll, I'd go into the words and watch bears shit for you." He joked, trying to stifle a giggle. Your headshot up and looked at him, he pursed his lips trying to keep himself composed. "Oh well, then that's very sweet." You playfully poked him in his solid chest, you weren't even sure if he even felt that.