#bucky barnes x Y/N

[jobean12-blog]

Don't Be a Tease

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: You and Bucky are texting back and forth while he's on a mission and you decide to tease him a little...

Author's Note: The new Thunderbolts trailer has me so excited to see Bucky! I can't wait! And this idea is nothing new but I love getting him riled up! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! PS Italics are text messages :)

Warnings: fun flirty tension and mostly smut, fingering, oral (f rec), edging, orgasm denial, choking, p in v (wrap it up kids), Bucky is soft in between it all

‘It’s really unfair that you’re walking around like that and I’m not with you…how many women have approached you so far?’

You stare at your phone screen, watching the three dots until his text pops up.

‘The only woman paying any attention to me right now is Yelena and it’s only because she has to. Ha.’

‘Nice try. You look hot. I want to come to the party…’

‘Don’t you dare leave the apartment doll face. You know it’s not safe and besides, I can’t concentrate with you around…you’re very distracting.’

‘HEY!’

'❤️😘I love you.'

‘Love you too. Be careful and come home soon.’

‘Always doll. I can’t wait. Miss you.’

‘Miss you more.’

~picture~

Bucky stares at his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen as the muscles in his jaw tighten and shift. He let’s out a low growl, startling an older woman that happens to be walking by.

His hand grips the phone tighter and he licks his lips with a strained exhale.

“Barnes. We must go. It’s time,” Yelena says, surprising him.

He makes a slight jump and her lips curve into a knowing smirk.

“What?” he grunts.

“Nothing,” she responds her smile widening. “Let us get this over with so you can get home to your girl. Da?”

He nods and glances at his phone one more time before he slips it into his pocket.

You don’t bother waiting for an answer after sending the picture and place your phone down on the bed to reach for your book. It’s hard to concentrate when all you can think about is him, but you do your best, letting the words on the page whisk you away for now.

By the time Bucky arrives back home you’re half asleep, your eyes heavy and the words on the page blurring together.

He barely makes any sound as he unlocks the door, his footsteps the only indication he’s headed toward the bedroom.

The light from the hallway filters into the room but his broad frame blocks most of it, hiding him in shadow.

“Bucky,” you whisper and sit up, now fully awake.

He moves toward you with purposeful steps and stands at the edge of the bed, his eyes raking over every inch of you.

“Doll,” he murmurs, remaining motionless, taking in every hint of lace, every tiny bow, and every curve of your body.

You sit up and kneel on the bed in front of him, sliding your hands up and down his chest. His fingers twitch at his sides and you lean closer, brushing the hair from his face.

He grabs your hips and drags you into him, the hardness in his pants digging into your stomach. You let out a surprised gasp that turns into a moan he swallows with his kiss.

When he breaks away from your lips, it’s only so he can whisper in your ear. “Do you like teasing me doll?”

You nod with a shiver, clutching onto his shoulders.

“I..” You struggle to get the words out as his lips trail down your neck.

His long finger hooks under the strap of your lingerie and he traces the calloused pad along the curve of your shoulder.

“Mm,” he hums, sliding his hand down your stomach and between your thighs, pressing the thin fabric of your panties against your wetness. “So wet for me and I’ve barely touched you.”

Your hips jerk into his hand and he circles your clit with a featherlight touch.

“I’m gonna return the favor doll.”

“Bucky,” you whine, barely registering his threat.

His mouth curves up as his gaze darkens, satisfaction mingling with the heat of desire. You tug futilely on his bow tie, desperate for more of his skin but he stops you with a firm hand to your wrist.

“Keep your hands to yourself for now.”

Your mouth falls open with a defiant protest, but he interrupts you. “Or I’ll bind you and stuff my cock in your mouth to keep you quiet.”

A small gasp is all that escapes your parted lips before he covers them with his, carefully and deliberately unhooking your bra and pulling it off your body. Your stiff nipples brush against the soft material of his tux, building the tension about to snap in your body.

His finger continues to tease between your legs before he drags your panties down to your knees. They stop there, the bed preventing him from pulling them off any more so instead he gives them a sharp tug and rips the fabric from your legs.

“You could have just…”

His kiss silences you again and he bites your lower lip, tugging it between his teeth before soothing it with his tongue.

At the same time, his finger slides inside you, slowly pumping in and out before he adds another. You wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him as he pushes you down onto the bed and settles between your legs.

Like a man starved, his tongue moves against you, his fingers still buried deep, and a cry of his name tears from your throat.

Your legs try to close reflexively, but his grip keeps them wide open. He isn’t slow and easy and when you look down at him, still fully dressed, head buried between your thighs, you feel your release build.

His tongue finds your clit and you urge him on with a gasped, “more.”

“Who said you could make any demands doll face?” he murmurs into your skin.

“But…”

He dips his head again and you lose all train of thought, legs shaking, pressure building. You rock your hips toward his face and feel his smile. You’re so close, your stomach clenching and he pulls away.

“No! Bucky please! Let me come!”

“Doll,” he warns. “You’ll come when I tell you to.”

He slides up your body, his lips and chin wet with your arousal, brushing them across your mouth and letting you taste yourself. You kiss him back, raking your fingers through his hair and then down his back.

His fingers are back between your legs, two sliding inside you as he swallows your moans with this mouth. You buck into his hand and when he presses his thumb against your clit you pull away from his lips and arch your back.

“Bucky!” you cry out.

He pushes a third finger inside you and your legs tremble at the pleasure and sensation of being stretched. You can’t catch your breath, his thumb still working over your clit as his fingers fuck you.

Your body locks up and you clutch at anything you can, his back, the sheets, his ass and then his fingers are gone.

“No,” you beg with a whimper.

“I told you…I’m going to tease you back.”

“This isn’t teasing…it’s torture!”

His touch is gentle as he traces the line of your jaw, passing his fingertips over your swollen lips before kissing them.

“Should I stop then? I can go get changed and we can go to bed if you like.”

“Bucky…” you groan with impatience.

“That’s what I thought doll face.”

Your breath comes out unevenly as you watch him sit up, take off his jacket, and undo his pants. His cock springs free against his abs and he wraps his fist around it, pumping slowly as he lowers himself over you.

He teases your entrance, sliding himself through your wetness and bumping your clit with every roll of his hips. You squirm beneath him, trying to line yourself up so he can get inside you.

“So needy,” he whispers into your neck.

With an incoherent whine you wrap your legs around him, and he finally starts to push inside you. You struggle to breathe through the stretch but he pushes in more, making you take him deeper, and your eyes flutter closed.

“Open your eyes. Look at me doll.”

You obey and snap them open, his hips thrusting to bury the last of him deep inside you.

“You feel incredible. I can’t get enough,” he murmurs.

He keeps his pace steady, each languid movement setting your nerves ablaze with an unhurried and unrelenting build up.

His eyes focus on your face, and he smooths his metal hand up to your throat, circling it with little pressure. You clench around him with anticipation, and he groans, his grip tightening.

Everything fades around you as he squeezes harder, restricting your air flow. All your other senses dull, leaving you with just the heady sensation of his hand around your throat and the rapture of him driving into you.

Your mouth opens to get air, only letting the barest amounts in as your heart hammers against your chest. His blue eyes are fixed on yours, entranced with your every reaction. His thumb caresses your neck, the gesture so tender it makes your whole-body shiver.

He releases you just as his warm breath fans your skin and he shifts to kiss the spots on your neck where his fingers left a light print. You suck in a large gasp of air, your back arching.

He swears, his hips now snapping forward in rough, uncontrolled thrusts. His metal hand moves between your legs, working over the spot you need him most.

“Come for me doll.”

 That’s all it takes for you to let go, spiraling into bliss, your entire body shaking beneath him with the force of your orgasm.

He doesn’t stop driving into you, his lips parted with his heavy breathing and needy moans rumbling out.

“Fuck doll,” he grunts, and you feel him pulse and spill inside you.

He drops forward, his hands on either side of your head as he kisses you softly.

“Should I make you come again?” he breathes, hips still rocking slowly.

You sigh out his name, wrapping your arms around his neck and sinking into the mattress. After a moment, he shifts his weight, pulling out of you to lie down and curl you into his chest. Your head falls to the crook of his neck and silence settles as he skates his fingertips along the curve of your spine.

“Are you okay?” he asks, softly pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Mm hm,” you mumble out and nuzzle closer.

“Maybe you’ll think twice about teasing me when I’m on a mission.”

Your lips meet his neck. “I can’t wait to do it again.”

[kittens6006]

Omg i need protective baby daddy bucky more

Sharon calls you fat (pregnant reader)

I live for the angst where Sharon/people call reader fat and make fun of her not knowing she's pregnant and Bucky protects the ever living fuck out of her because that's his gorgeous babymama. Bonus when Sharon is a jealous hoe. Throw in some protective avengers in there too. Breeding kink? Pregnancy kink? Also yes. He's a feral, horny little shit here, I apologize.

You huffed as you buttoned your jeans, the waistband sitting snugly around your waist, pressing into your skin a little bit more than usual. You dug through the closet to find one of Bucky's hoodies to slip on, loving the way the soft material engulphed you in his scent.

You weren't showing much yet but your body was certainly changing. Your sense of smell was heightened, constantly craving to be surrounded by your boyfriends smell. Your breasts were growing heavier and your clothes were more fitting than before. Cravings had already started. Your cheeks were a tad fuller and you were certainly glowing.

Bucky's super soldier serum was no joke.

You made your way down to make something for breakfast, grabbing a bag of peppermint tea to help with some of the nausea you had been experiencing. Sharon sauntered into the kitchen, still clad in her tiny workout clothes as she went to the fridge to grab a water bottle.

"Hey Sharon" You smiled as you poured water into your mug while munching on a cookie, grabbing another when your tummy rumbled. Baby Barnes clearly took after daddy, craving anything and everything sweet. And salty. And sweet and salty.

"Hey y/n" Sharon's eyes looked at you up and down, cocking her head slightly while you snacked, rummaging around for something else to eat. "Might wanna cut down a little there, huh" She teased, nodding to the potato chip you popped into your mouth.

"What?" You weren't sure you heard correctly, setting down the bag while she pursed her lips.

"Oh, nothing. I don't know how you eat that stuff, it's so greasy"

"Hm, yeah I guess" You gave her a weak smile, her words causing the insecurities you were already feeling about your body to creep back up again. You had a heavy feeling in your chest, seeing her flit about the kitchen, still perfectly toned. You shook those thoughts away, remembering the reason beautiful your body was different but it didn't do much.

The words still stung.

You decided to make your way back to your room to wait for Bucky to return from his morning jog with Steve, passing by one of the new trainees as you left the kitchen. Their hushed whispers caused you to stop in your tracks, your stomach dropping when you heard what they were saying.

"She's getting fat" Sharon snorted, hardly noticing you weren't out of ear shot while the trainee giggled along with her, nodding in agreement.

"Oh my God, you should've seen her at the gym yesterday. She was breathing so hard while running on the treadmill, I thought she was going to pass out. I don't even think she lasted 5 minutes before calling it quits" The trainee replied while Sharon rolled her eyes.

"She's gonna looked like a beached whale if she keeps eating like that, I swear she finished the entire row single handedly"

"I don't get what Bucky is doing with her. Honestly, I'm not even complaining. If she gets any fatter he's gonna leave her so maybe that'll make it easier for me" Sharon cackled along with the girl, the both of them snickering while swooning over the soldier. "He's so hot. I don't get what the hell he's doing with her, he can do so much better. Just wait till I show him, he'll see what he's missed out on"

You hardly realized you'd broken down into tears, slapping a hand over your mouth to keep from sobbing. You ran to your shared bedroom as fast as you could before anyone else saw you, closing the door and instructing FRIDAY to keep everyone out. You threw your jeans off, hating the way they were tighter on you, curling up under the covers, muffling your cries into the pillow.

-

Bucky ran his fingers through his short locks, making his way to the kitchen to grab some water after his run, smiling to himself knowing how much you loved to slink around him whenever he worked out. He loved how needy and cuddly you were, always burying your face into his neck of chest, trying to crawl up him like a tree.

"Where are you babygirl" Bucky called for you, expecting to see you in the perched in the kitchen with your pepper mint tea you'd recently been relying on, only to find a full mug without you in sight. Sharon and the new agent were still there, both of them eyeing him up and down, hoping to get his attention.

"Hey Sarge-

"Have you seen y/n" Bucky cut Sharon off, still looking around for you. Sharon rolled her eyes again, stating she hadn't seen you at all, since she'd spend her own morning working out. Bucky frowned, picking up the still hot tea, taking it up as he made his way to the bedroom.

"Sweeheart?" Bucky called for you softly, his heart racing when he hard soft sniffles from the other side of the door, his anxiety spiking when the door was locked. "Baby, are you okay? Can you open the door please?"

You hiccupped, trying to calm yourself down hearing Bucky's worried voice, quickly wiping your face before getting out of bed to open the door for him. His heart broke seeing his sweet girl with red rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks from crying, pulling you into him while shutting the door behind him.

"What's wrong mama" Bucky cooed, hugging you tightly while you whimpered in his hold, your insecurities at an all time high as he slipped his hand under your hoodie to stroke the bare skin of your back.

"Am I fat?" You whispered, worried the question would make realize you were less attractive, a fresh wave of tears streaming down your face.

"What?" Bucky pulled away, shock evident on his face while you stared at your feet, swallowing nervously.

"Please don't make me say it"

"Sweetheart, look at me" He held your face firmly in his hands making you look a him, "Why would you ask such a thing"

"I-I heard some people talking in the kitchen. Said I'm fat" If it wasn't for Bucky's enhanced hearing, he would've missed your fallen voice as you hide your face in his chest again.

"Absolutely not baby, who said that to you" Bucky held back on the red hot anger that surged through him, needing to comfort you first before raining hell on whoever hurt you.

"But I am Bucky!" You cried in frustration, pulling away from his hold. "It looks awful and I'm just going to keep getting bigger, I- I get if you don't find me as attractive-

"Hey, hey, stop, baby look at me" Bucky stopped your rambling, pulling you back into him, his hands holding your face firmly, "Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are to me? Hm? Do you have any idea how insanely attracted I've been to you ever since you told me you're pregnant?"

You shook your head, your heart jolting when he pushed himself against you, letting you feel the hardness between his legs, poorly contained in his joggers.

"Bucky-

"C'mere" Bucky threw your hoodie off before stripping his own clothes aside, his hard cock angry and leaking, desperate to fill you. "M'gonna show you baby"

He didn't give you a second to protest, carrying you over to bed and laying you down, spreading your legs apart, flicking his cock against your clit before tracing it down to your entrance and shoving himself home.

"Bucky!" you moaned, your legs moving on their own to wrap around his waist as he started to move, throbbing the entire time.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful mama, if you weren't pregnant already, we'd be in here all day till you were" Bucky groaned, grabbing and caressing your soft skin, already leaking into you. "You're gonna look so sexy when your belly gets all round, when these breasts get all big, they're gonna leak so much carrying my baby"

He moved to tug your swollen nipples between his pink lips, groaning at the thought of how sweet your milk would taste. Your back arched off the bed from how sensitive they were, your cunt fluttering around his cock, sucking him in deeper.

"I already know you're gonna get so swollen mama, its my baby in your belly. Did you forget its my cum that got you pregnant? Did you forget there's all that serum in my cock baby? I got you fuckin' pregnant, I'm you're babydaddy, I can't wait to see you get all tired, pouty and big with my super soldier baby"

"Oh fuck Bucky" you wailed, his words making your heart swell while your pussy nearly squirted as he hit that spongy spot deep in you, "P-please don't-don't stop"

"I won't stop baby, couldn't even if I wanted to, y'feel too good. Fuck, just knowing you're pregnant makes me so hard, can't believe I knocked suck a pretty little thing up, so lucky I got to stuff you nice and full"

Bucky started to fuck you harder till he headboard added new dents to the wall since the extra strength walls Tony added had nothing on Bucky's stamina and strength.

"Can't wait till everyone sees how pretty you're gonna look, m'gonna show you off, make sure everyone knows you're my girl, the love of my life, that you're carrying a piece of me in you"

"But- but what if they think-I won't look-" You're insecurities tried to sneak back in but Bucky wasn't having any of it, shutting ha down immediately.

"I'll fuck you in front of them. You think I give a fuck? I'll bend this pretty ass over, hold that perfectly round belly and stuff my cock in you till it leaks and makes a mess on the floor. I'll show them exactly what I did to get you that big in the first place, let them see how swollen my cock gets for you, goddamn, I'm gonna cum!"

Bucky fucked you hard and fast, letting you feel him in your stomach, not holding back one bit, his hand flying to grip onto the headboard.

"Bucky-Bucky gonna-I'm gonna-!OH GOD" You let out a silent scream, cumming around him without warning, your pregnancy making you extra sensitive, being able to orgasm without him even touching you.

"This sweet, soft fuckin' body" Bucky's pace faltered, sinking his teeth into your shoulder, "So good to me, so fuckin' good!, gonna cum mama, gonna give you more of my cream, gonna full that pussy up n'keep you pregnant forever, take it gorgeous, fuckin' beautiful, no one makes me hard like this, m'gonna cum so hard-fuck-fuck-FUCCCKKK M'CUMMING" Bucky roared against your neck, his cock bursting with ropes of cum, emptying his balls dry with sloppy thrusts until the sheets were soaked. You both panted, sweat covering your bodies, the sweet, primal smell of sex filling the room making your practically purr.

"You're the most beautiful thing to ever happen to me. I love you no matter what. You're stunning to me at any size, pregnant or not, don't you ever forget it" Bucky held you firmly, brushing his hands over your belly, pressing a kiss to your temple. You nodded, already feeling better, nervousness replacing your previous anxiety because you knew Bucky wouldn't let the incident slide.

"Who made you feel this way baby" His voice was gentle but he wasn't leaving any room for negotiation.

"Just leave it Bucky" You shrugged, not wanting to make it a big deal but he shook his head.

"Can't do that sugar. No one makes my doll upset. You get some rest alright? let me make you lunch and we'll take a nap after"

You nodded, letting him slip his henley over your head, grabbing some comfy sweats for you to wear and throwing on his own clothes before heading down. You froze as you neared the kitchen seeing everyone else downstairs gathered for lunch which was a rare sight but there had been less mission recently meaning everyone was home. Bucky gave your hand a comforting squeeze, a stark contrast the to protective anger he felt again.

"Who the fuck spoke about y/n" Bucky stormed down, silence filling the room immediatly, everyone staring at each other in confusion while Sharon's face filled with guilt. "Well?!"

"What happened Buck, Steve and I were training this morning" Sam said honestly, while the others nodded in agreement, still looking at each other wondering what was going on. "You okay, sweetheart?"

"Well someone said something because she was upset in our bedroom and it happened today" Bucky had a good feeling about who caused your distress, knowing no one else would ever do such a thing but he wasn't about to call out Sharon ha easily, seeing her already squirming in discomfort.

"There's an easy solution to all this, give me a second" Tony typed something into his phone before calling for Friday, "FRIDAY can you play back the audio from this morning from when y/n was in here"

"Certainly, Mr. Stark"

The audio started with you greeting Sharon, followed by her comment and then the conversation she had with the new trainee. Shock and gasps filled the room, everyone glaring at the blonde with disgust while she shook her head, her stomach churning.

"I-I didn't say anything! That wasn't even me!"

"Really? Then who the fuck was it" Bucky spat, ready to jump her across the table, his fists balled at his side. Sharon huffed, biting her lip while Bucky continued to glare at her, still holding your hand softly in his. His anger only flared more, thinking about how she thought she could replace you.

"Fine! I said it! But was I wrong? She is bigger than before" Sharon weakly defended herself, trembling when Bucky flinched, his self restraint growing thinner. Your eyes grew steamy, squeaking when Bucky moved to wrap his arm around your tummy, slipping it under your shirt.

"Cause she's pregnant. With my baby. I'm her babydaddy. I got her pregnant. You wanna know how? I fucked her. So hard. I didn't just fuck her, I made love to her cause she's my girl. Do you have any idea how attracted I am to her? How much cum there was? I didn't pull out once. She's so tight around my cock, its hard not to fill her up. Just kept going until my dick started to hurt and even then, I didn't wanna pull out"

Sam smirked at Bucky's utterly unhinged, x-rated rambling while Steve buried his red face in his hands. Tony cackled from the side while Nat patiently waited to get a chance to lay her hands on Sharon on Bucky's behalf.

"I-I get it, enough-

"You're delusional if you think I'd ever leave her for you. This is the love of my life. She's giving me a baby. She's beautiful. I chose this woman because she's special, she's this one I want to have a family with. You know what, you better get used to it cause I'm gonna get her pregnant again and again and it won't be hard considering how badly I constantly want her. In fact, we fucked just now, tell your little friend that"

"Oh my god" Sharon huffed, harshly wiping her tear streaked face, ready to throw up from embarrassment. She choked a sob, running out without looking back, Bucky's words tearing her apart. Everyone ignored her presence, immediately piling onto you with hugs, kisses and congratulations instead.

"Congratulations, babydaddy" Sam grinned, playfully nudging Bucky's shoulder making him blush, his arms still wrapped around your tummy. "And to you, little mama"

"I call god father" Steve announced, kissing your cheek before pulling Bucky into a tight hug, happy for his best friend and you.

Nat cracked a few knuckles, giving you a quick peck on the head, promising to celebrate later before following Sharon out, ready to hand her ass to her. The little trainee would be next.

"So what you're both saying is there's gonna be another super soldier running around here?" Tony's eyes lit up with excitement and a dash of fear when he remembered the baby would also be surrounded by idiots like Sam and Steve. He'd have to reinforce everything.

Immediately.

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 19

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 18 | Series Masterlist | Part 20

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.2k

Chapter Summary: Your day out with your friends isn't as relaxing as you want it to be.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, drinking, suspected drugging, reference to stalking and violence, your friends are cheering you on, inner turmoil, stubborn reader, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Thank you again for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You wished you could say you breathed easier as the limo pulled away, but you didn’t. You felt Bucky’s piercing eyes on you, watching until you were completely out of sight. He still wasn’t “out of sight, out of mind.” He made sure you’d think about him, and Ray was following in his vehicle. Even glancing quickly at the limo partition you could see that it was cracked. Was the driver one of Bucky’s men?

“Okay, so your new boyfriend is stupidly hot and loaded,” Dana said, her eyes darting around the limo. “You should be proud of yourself. Holy shit.”

“I should be proud of somehow snagging a hot and loaded guy?” you laughed a little. You always told yourself money wasn’t a factor as long as the love was there.

“Yes! Tell me he’s spoiling you the way he’s spoiling us today.”

You shrank back in your seat a bit. It wasn’t that it was the first time you were the center of attention with your friends, but it overwhelmed you specifically since it concerned Bucky. “Well, he bought me this outfit. And he has bought me a ton of books since I love to read,” you answered. You weren’t about to say that he transferred a ton of money into your account. “And on our first date he gave me a diamond necklace.”

The girls gasped. “Clothes, books, and a diamond necklace?! Yeah, be proud and fucking flaunt it,” Dana encouraged. She had to be half teasing since she knew that wasn’t your style. “Gina, Addison, back me up here.”

“We all know you aren’t going to flaunt any gift he gets you, but you should’ve seen the way he looked at you. He had hearts in his eyes,” Gina smiled. You tried to smile back. There were hearts alright, along with some darkness that they weren’t aware of. “I’m surprised he even looked at us.”

“Yeah, he’s… kind of intense like that,” you said. That was the word you’d go with.

“Intense isn’t necessarily bad.” Addison scooted closer to you. “And you’re happy, right? He treats you well?”

If being treated like a doll, having you followed, and showering you with affection while messing with your head was meant to make you happy… “He thinks we’re soulmates. That we were meant to find each other and be together. It’s… a lot,” you said carefully. “I haven’t had anyone who seems to need me the way he does, especially so quickly.”

“Soulmates? Wow,” Addison said. “I can see why you’d say it’s a lot.”

You could’ve hugged her. Maybe she saw through some of the charade. If she did, that could also put her in danger if she spoke out.

“Or maybe he just knows what he wants and he’s an all in kind of guy,” Dana commented. She had no idea. “Wait! Have you two had sex?!”

“No, we haven’t had sex yet,” you answered. Just him jerking off over the phone and some heavy petting and jerking off again with you nearby. “But he really wants to sleep with me and I did ride his thigh,” you mumbled.

It was still clear as day in your head, how he encouraged you to get off, his lips against yours. You didn’t want to think about it, but Bucky got his way and invaded your thoughts. It was inevitable.

“Ahh! You beautiful slut! Thigh riding is so hot!” If anyone ever needed a hype girl or enabler, Dana was the one to call. “And what are you waiting for?! Let him fuck you and eat your kitty. Do it for us.”

“Hey. There’s nothing wrong with waiting,” Addison promised. Of all of your friends, she’d snap if Bucky ever hurt you. “You wait as long as you want.”

You were trying to wait, but it was only a matter of time before you had to sleep with him. “It’s just…”

“Are you worried that his feelings will fade once you two have sex?” Gina asked.

“I’m not worried about his feelings diminishing,” you said with complete sincerity. His feelings wouldn’t waver, even if his actions screamed love-bombing. “I just… I guess I never pictured myself dating someone who owns a nightclub. He just seems out of my league.”

And he was someone who had very dangerous ties.

“No, we don’t put ourselves down here. Every league is your league, and he should be honored to be your guy.” Dana clapped her hands together. “Ooh! What if we do a big date night at his club? We bring our guys, and we can all hang out?”

Your eyes widened. “I… Maybe,” you replied. It would just be another chance for Bucky to charm them, and it felt like you’d be asking him for a favor by letting your friends in. He’d probably love it.

“I’m texting my man and telling him you got a diamond necklace.” Dana quickly typed something on her phone. “He needs to step up his game.”

You were on the verge of tears. They were happy for you, but didn't seem to notice your discomfort. You didn’t blame them. Not at all. It was your fault for not being truthful about the true nature of your relationship. That wedge you imagined Bucky was trying to drive between you and your friends felt real and they didn't even know.

“As fun as it is talking about Bucky, maybe we can talk about something else?” you smiled, nudging Addison. You didn’t want this whole day to be about Bucky and your relationship. “Your big day is getting closer.”

“Yes, it is,” she smiled.

You relaxed in the seat when the conversation shifted to the wedding and found yourself smiling and laughing through the rest of the ride. Bucky still lingered in your mind since he’d be at the wedding. The nice part was that since you were in the bridal party, he couldn’t spend the entire day with you.

“We’re here!” Addison smiled as the limo eventually came to a stop.

You were the last to get out and you took a deep breath. The winery was the perfect mix of relaxation, beauty, and good vibes. The lush vineyard stretched across the hills, and you wished for a moment you could run through them and disappear. The sun on your face brought you back to the present and made you smile, and you couldn't wait to sample some wine with the girls. You had a right to enjoy your time.

“You coming?” Dana asked.

“You two go ahead. We’ll be right in,” Addison said, linking her arm with yours and leading you away from the limo. You tensed up only for a moment when you saw Ray’s vehicle in the distance. It didn’t look completely out of place though since there were other cars and people around. “Okay, what’s up? You seem on edge.”

“I do?” you asked. You thought she didn’t notice, and you should’ve known better.

“Yeah. Is it work? Or is it about Bucky?” You tensed up again. “Did you think we wouldn’t like him?”

“No, that’s not it. It’s just a lot really fast, that’s all,” you said, leaning in to whisper, “I didn’t want to say it in the limo, but he wants me to move in with him.”

She stopped walking. “Whoa. Okay, that is fast, but some couples do move quickly in whirlwind romances, so I wouldn’t say it’s completely out of the ordinary. Brady and I knew right away that we wanted to be together,” she said. What she had with Brady was pure, and you could’ve possibly had that with Bucky in another life. “Maybe Dana’s right that he just knows what he wants and he wants to go all in.”

“He’s very much all in,” you agreed.

“Are you considering moving in with him?”

“Maybe,” you said. Bucky was going to force his hand either way.

“Wow. If you’re considering that it’s either because you’re going along with what he wants or you really care about him. I hope it’s the latter,” she said, her brows pinching in concern. “But, listen, if you aren’t ready for that, he has to understand you haven’t dated in some time and you should go at the pace that makes you feel comfortable. I’m sure he’ll understand and it shouldn’t change how he feels.”

Your words caught in your throat. The pace wasn’t yours to control, even if Natasha said you had power. There was no choice in moving in and you wish you could blurt out every single thing that transpired, but the words refused to come out. Because all you could think about was what would happen to Addison, and she didn’t deserve any kind of pain.

“And if I do care about him and want to move in?” you asked.

“You know we’ll support whatever you do, but think about it carefully because that’s a big step. And if things go south, you tell us right away so we can help,” she said, giving you a small smile. “He may be your boyfriend, but you’re still my best friend and I was here first. I’ll smack him with a frying pan if he messes up.”

You blinked tears away before you hugged her. You were lucky to have a friend like her. “A frying pan? What happened to a shovel?” you teased.

“Frying pan is more accessible,” she teased back, giving you a squeeze. “Now let’s go. We have some wine to try.”

Ray kept a respectable distance from your table and didn’t make eye contact as he pretended to read while sipping his drink. You were glad for that since your friends didn’t seem to take notice of him as you all ate and sampled various wines. Though you were having a great time, you hardly drank a drop. You wanted to stay on guard in case Bucky decided to crash the outing.

“Oh, we need to take a bottle of this home,” Dana said, pointing at her empty glass. “And where the hell is your cousin?!”

“She bailed.” Addison rolled her eyes. “That's exactly why she’s not in the wedding party. I can’t rely on her.”

“That and she’s a bitch,” Dana said unapologetically while pointing at you. “We know she would’ve said something shitty about you and Bucky, and we don’t need that bad energy.”

You scoffed. Addison’s cousin was the type who always had to one-up someone or try to tear them down so she felt better about herself. You tried to see the best in others, but you were admittedly glad she wasn’t there today. “I’m sure she’ll have something to say at the wedding.”

“If she does say anything, don’t listen to her,” Addison urged. “Or say something back to shut her down.”

“Rub it in her face how hot and rich Bucky is,” Dana grinned, nudging you with her elbow. “Her head will explode.”

You inhaled. Bucky, Bucky, Bucky. Everything went back to him, and you had to say something. “You know what I should tell her?” You smiled as they listened expectantly. “I should tell her that even though Bucky is rich and handsome and could have anyone he wants, he stalked me and coerced me into being his girlfriend. You think her head will still explode, or will she just laugh?”

The table went silent as you sipped your wine before they burst out laughing. A few heads turned your way from the sound, and you didn’t crack a smile when Ray made eye contact with you. Had he heard what you said?

Dana laughed so hard she wheezed. “You don’t understand. I need you to tell her that just to see the look on her face. Please. I beg of you.”

“And make sure Bucky’s in on the joke, too,” Gina giggled.

Your heart sank. Their safety came first, but the reaction was another reason you didn’t say anything. Who would possibly believe you? He was a rich and powerful man and you were merely a florist. “Maybe I can say something that’s not quite so dark,” you smiled.

Addison stared at you curiously before she shook her head. “You and your sense of humor,” she teased, drinking the rest of her glass. “But if you could shut her up, I’ll be thankful.”

Your phone dinged before you could respond, and you almost spit up the little wine you had when you saw a message from Bucky.

“Call me. Now.”

Direct. No sweet words. Oh, no.

“Is that your loverboy?” Dana wiggled her eyebrows.

“As a matter of fact it is and he’s asking for me to call him. Do you mind if…”

“Go. We’ll be right here,” Addison smiled.

Your legs felt a bit rubbery as you walked outside and took a look around to make sure no one was nearby. What if he had a bug in your phone and he heard what you said? Oh, God. You were so stupid.

Pressing his name on your phone, you let out a shaky breath when he immediately picked up. “Kotyonok, I need you to come back,” he replied, his tone stern. Upset.

You swallowed. God, he did hear you. You could convince him it was a joke, right? No one had to get hurt. “Why, what’s wrong?” you asked, your tone remarkably calm. “We aren’t done with our samples.”

“You were followed to Addison’s this morning by one of Zemo’s men. Ray and I both spotted him.” There were muffled noises in the background. “I just finished… talking to him.”

“I was followed?” you whispered, your heart sinking for a completely different reason now. The day you went out with your friends someone followed you? “What did he want?”

“I can explain more later, but he had a ‘look, but don’t touch’ order. I broke his fingers anyway.” You closed your eyes. He sounded proud of himself. “I have some business to attend to for the rest of the day and I have to go to the club after, which is why I need you back at home.”

Ray appearing behind you almost made you drop your phone. “Jesus, Ray,” you gasped, your heart nearly beating out of your chest.

“I’m sorry,” he said, briefly resting a hand on your shoulder. “Boss messaged me to bring you home.”

“Yeah, I’m talking to him right now,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “And I’m not going home right now. I'm not leaving.”

“What?” Bucky growled. He could be angry all he wanted. You didn’t care. “This isn’t something to argue about or negotiate, I need you safe and-”

“Safe? You need me to be safe?” you asked, trying to stay calm amidst the storm inside you. “Has it occurred to you that the entire reason I’m not safe is because of you? That the only reason Zemo even cares about following me is because I’m your girl?”

“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know I painted the very target on your back by falling for you? I’m well aware of that fact, but I’m also the one who can keep you safe.” He sounded almost as vulnerable as he did when he talked about his mom. “So just… come home.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. Home. “You know, there are a lot of dangerous people out there who have families and loved ones. And I’m sure some of them are blissfully unaware of what goes on behind the scenes, but not all of them are. Some are very well aware of what their partners do for a living because they were told what they were getting into.”

“Kotyonok-”

“But you didn’t, Bucky. You didn’t let me know what I was getting into. One look at me and you made the decision for me and sealed my fate,” you continued, looking sadly at Ray. “So while I’m thinking of you today like you wanted, I want you to think of me and that target you painted on my back and my loved ones. And think about if you really love me the way you say you do.”

“I do love you,” he breathed. It would be nice to believe that. “Come home, please, and we’ll talk when I get back from the club.”

“I’m finishing the day with my friends. Ray will stay here with me. I also need to go to my place before I go to the penthouse,” you said. If he wanted you there so badly, he could bend a bit since you were in no direct danger at the moment. “And don’t expect a happy conversation like we had this morning.”

One step forward, two steps back.

“I’ll just be happy that you’re safe,” he said, which only infuriated you more. You couldn’t make out what he ordered to someone else, but the muffled noises picked up again. “Leave in thirty minutes. The driver will drop your friends off and he’ll take you to the apartment. Ray will take you home from there.”

“Two hours,” you stated just to be stubborn.

“One hour,” he countered. “Or I’ll drive there myself.”

You huffed, but didn’t want to test him. “Fine. I’ll leave in one hour.” The girls would understand if you made some excuse.

“Thank you,” he exhaled. He really did sound relieved. “I love you. I’ll see you later this evening.”

You waited a beat. “Think about what I said.” Ray waited patiently as you hung up. “Have I told you that your boss is a pain in the ass?”

“He certainly is, but he is correct that your safety is important,” he agreed, gently stopping you before you went back inside. “If you aren’t in the limo in one hour, he will come after you.”

“I know,” you sighed. Bucky would be dramatic like that. And protective. “Someone was really following me?” you asked in a small voice. Bucky had no reason to lie unless he was trying to get you away from your friends.

Ray nodded solemnly. “It could’ve been to report your movements back to Zemo, but I’d have to ask the boss for more details since I didn’t get to interrogate him myself.”

“I do appreciate you both spotting him,” you complimented, even if Bucky violently handled it. You shouldn’t have expected anything less.

“Of course.” There was a ghost of a smile on his face. “You were wrong, you know.”

Your brows pinched. “About what?”

“Your strength. You handled that well all things considered,” he answered.

“You’re only saying that because you can’t read my mind,” you said. It was a mess. But you hadn’t broken down or cried, so that was a plus.

For a moment you thought he’d laugh, but he merely nodded to the building. “Better go join your friends before they miss you.”

“Thanks, Ray,” you whispered, putting a smile back on your face as you walked back inside and headed back to the table.

Addison held up two fingers. “You missed two more rounds of samples.”

“I guess I'll have to catch up,” you teased. “And would anyone object to leaving in an hour? Bucky’s planning a romantic evening for the two of us, and I need to stop by my apartment before I head over to his place,” you said. It was partially true. “If you all want to stay, I’ll get an uber and you can take the limo.”

“An hour’s fine.” Dana blinked a few times. “Anyone else tired? I’m a little tired.”

Gina covered her mouth when she yawned. “Yeah, I am, too.”

“I feel fine,” you said, frowning when Addison yawned, too. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, but a nap sounds good right about now,” she said, pushing her now empty glass away and checking the time. “It is kind of late. It’ll be night time when we get back.”

You stared at your own glass, dread filling your stomach. You felt perfectly fine, but they looked tired. Was it possible that someone slipped something in their drinks or food? Did Ray do something or did Bucky set something up in order to make you leave? Or were you just being paranoid?

“Is everyone okay?” you asked. It felt like too much of a coincidence that they all felt tired after you came back to the table. “Should we just leave right now?”

“I’m fine. I was just up really late last night,” Addison answered. Dana and Gina nodded in agreement.

“Maybe we should cut back on the samples and stick with water,” you suggested.

“You’ve always been the sensible one,” Dana said, resting her chin in her hand. “But can we still buy some bottles?”

“Yeah. As many as we want,” you promised. Bucky did say he’d spoil you, so why not?

Exactly one hour later, you were back in the limo with the girls and plenty of bottles. Unlike the ride over, the ride back was much quieter. You thought Addison would fall asleep on your shoulder at one point and Dana actually did fall asleep at one point for a few minutes. They somehow didn’t stumble on the way to the limo, and it would’ve impressed you if you weren’t so worried.

“Are you sure you girls are okay? Should we go to the hospital?” you asked.

“Why would we do that? We drank more at my bachelorette party than we did today. We’re fine,” Addison assured you. “You worry too much.”

You had good reason to worry. “This sounds crazy, but did you drug my friends? I need to know if I should take them to the hospital.” you messaged Bucky. If he did something to them…

He typed something back right away. “How could I possibly drug your friends when I wasn’t there? Is everyone okay?”

Did he actually care? “I’m fine, but they’re very drowsy and I’m worried.”

“Ray kept me updated and he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. None of Zemo’s men were there. I didn't do anything either. Did any of them complain that they were dizzy? Nauseous? Did anyone pass out?”

“No, but it could've been something like Benadryl to make them drowsy and get me to possibly leave faster.” Or punish you by mentioning the stalking thing, if he knew, and show you that his reach expanded beyond the city.

“That’s a very creative method to get you to leave, but lots of wine can make anyone drowsy and I have no reason to do that to your friends. I think our conversation may have scared you a bit since Zemo had someone watching you and you’re understandably worried for your friends.”

You looked around at your friends. They did drink a lot more wine than you, and drugging people didn’t seem to be Bucky’s style. Zemo’s men weren’t there. Maybe you were being paranoid and the girls really were just tired. Being part of Bucky’s circle just made you question everything.

“Okay. I’m trusting you.” You had to.

“Thank you. Your worry aside, it sounds like you girls had fun though from what I heard. Maybe the next day out can be at my club. Could be fun.”

You gasped. Did he know what Dana suggested? No, no, no. You weren’t falling down that rabbit hole, and didn’t send any texts back for the rest of the drive.

Brady and the other guys were waiting on the curb when the limo stopped at Addison’s. You were the only one who didn’t get out, but you gave each of them hugs and helped hand out the wine to their significant others. They seemed a bit more awake, so maybe they were just fine. “Love you girls. And, guys, keep an eye on them. They had quite a few samples,” you said. You’d have to text each of them later to check on them.

“Love you,” the girls echoed before the door shut.

The driver headed in the direction of your place after a minute. What were you going to say to Bucky when you saw him? Would you scream at him for putting you in danger, or would you just accept that this was your life? It was a continuous losing battle the more you fought.

The morning you had with Bucky, minus the groping, had been somewhat nice. Could it be like that all the time if you tried? Could it be better if he loosened the reins?

“Thank you,” you said when the limo stopped and the partition rolled down a few inches. “How much do I owe you?”

“Mr. Barnes took care of that, miss, but if you’ll allow me-”

“Oh, no. Please don’t get out. I got it,” you smiled, letting yourself out. You scanned the street for Ray’s car, but didn’t see it. He was likely waiting for the limo to pull away.

Two steps into your building, your phone dinged. “What now?” you muttered when you opened a text from Bucky.

“Ray got a flat tire. Stay in the limo.”

You read the message twice. A flat tire? You were about to type back to Bucky that you already left the limo when you heard a familiar voice by the elevator. “It’s about time you got back.”

You couldn’t breathe when you found a pair of blue eyes staring at you. “Clark… what are you doing here?”

Oh, I hope you lovelies are prepared for the next part. And what do we think of your friends? And were they just drowsy or did something happen? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[vunblr]

City Lights and Mountain Hearts

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Fluff. Slight Angst. Smut. Unprotected sex.

Summary: Stuck in the city for Valentine’s week, Bucky grapples with old wounds, self-doubt, and the urge to escape. Luckily, even if he doesn’t know how to express it, he is not alone.

Word Count: 10.5k.

note: Part of the Roots and Branches AU

The soft pling of an incoming email pulled her attention away from the cheesy vampire novel she had been working on, pausing her fingers on the keyboard. She furrowed her brows at the notification in the corner of her screen, precisely at the subject line.

URGENT: In-Person Attendance Required – Feb 12–16

Her company rarely required in-person meetings, much less for an entire week. But as her eyes scanned the neatly written email, her heart sank. They were hosting a conference within the city, an important one, and all key personnel were expected to attend and be involved. No exceptions.

“Great,” she muttered, rubbing her temple. Of all the weeks.

She didn’t mind her job -she actually liked it most days- but this? This was just bad timing. Her first Valentine’s Day with Bucky, and instead of spending it in their little town, she’d be stuck in a place she hadn’t missed, surrounded by endless traffic, overpriced coffee, and the constant hum of people who never stopped moving.

She exhaled sharply, leaning back in her chair. Bucky. He wouldn’t say it outright, but she knew how he felt about the city. He barely ever talked about his time there, and when he did, it was with the same tight-lipped, wary expression he wore when someone brought up his past.

He was not going to be thrilled about this.

She had to tell him. The sooner, the better. Then they could figure out what to do, whether they’d spend the week apart or… maybe he could come. By the time the sun had dipped behind the trees, she had made up her mind. She couldn’t change the situation, but she could soften the news.

So, she set the table with two mugs of hot chocolate and cut a generous slice of apple pie for him. Lately, she had been making dinner later and later, caught up in work, but tonight, she wanted to be ready when he walked through the door.

The familiar sound of the lock clicking open made her stomach flip, slightly tightening her fingers around her mug. Bucky stepped inside, shaking off the chill as he pushed the door shut behind him. He slipped his jacket off, draping it over the back of a chair, and then he made his way toward the kitchen, drawn in by the scent of cinnamon and warm apples. He stopped in the doorway, tired blue eyes flicking between the waiting mugs and the careful way she was watching him. He knew that look.

Something was up.

But before he could ask, she gave him a small, hopeful smile and gestured toward the table. “I made pie.”

----

He sat there, munching the pie with his gaze glued to the plate. She knew he was turning it over in his head, weighing every part of the situation the way he always did.

He swallowed, took a sip of hot chocolate, then let out a slow sigh.

"Guess I'll have to go too."

Her brows lifted slightly. "Bucky, you’re not obligated. It’s totally okay if you-"

"I'll drive us there." His tone left no room for argument. "You’re not spendin’ Valentine’s Day alone. I know you’ve been preparin’ somethin’ for that day, even when I told you I didn’t really mind those kinda celebrations."

She watched as he swirled the chocolate with his spoon, his eyes still cast downward like admitting that cost him something.

"Well, um… yeah," she murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear. "That was when I thought we'd be here, and-"

"Sweetheart." His voice was softer now, and when he finally looked at her, there was something in his gaze, something that made her heart ache a little. "It’s okay. We’ll go together."

-----

The next morning when she woke up, Bucky was gone.

That was unusual. Saturdays and Sundays were slow mornings, mornings where he lingered in bed longer than he needed to, where she could coax him into staying even when he grumbled about getting up. But today, the space beside her was cold, like he hadn’t been there in hours.

She found the note on the dinner table.

Had some business to take care of. Be back later.

No explanation. No details. Typical.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair, but let it go. If Bucky needed space, she’d give it to him. Instead, she made herself breakfast, turned on her laptop, and got to work. The sooner she got ahead of things, the more time they’d have in the city. And she wanted them to have time, time to make it feel like something other than just another obligation.

-----

Bucky was in his spot in the woods, where the air was sharp and clean, where the only sounds were the wind through the trees and his own breathing. Where he didn’t have to think.

February wasn’t the best time for chopping wood, but he didn’t care. He just needed to move, to burn through the thing curling tight in his chest.

It had been over fifteen years since he set foot in the city. He had left with a full cast on his arm and never looked back. He should have gone back, just once, just long enough to get the damn thing removed properly. Instead, he’d let the local doctor handle it and told himself it wasn’t worth the trip. Told himself it didn’t mean anything.

Maybe it had. Maybe it had meant more than he let himself admit.

The axe came down with brutal precision, and the wood split instantly. He barely registered it, his mind still circling the same damn thoughts.

The city. He didn’t belong there.

Too many people, too much noise, too many eyes. He already could feel the way the stares would burn into him, the way his skin would crawl under all that attention. He could handle a few looks here in town, the occasional glance from curious folks, the gossip… but the city? That was different. In the city, people watched.

And the worst part? He knew what they’d see.

Some guy who didn’t fit. A man too rough around the edges, too quiet, too scarred.

The axe came down again, unrelenting.

He wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve, exhaling hard. What the fuck was he even supposed to wear there? He barely had anything that would blend in. Just one pair of decent jeans and a couple of henleys that might keep him from looking like an uneducated stud.

Might.

-----

He returned just before lunch, the sharp bite of cold still clinging to his skin, the muscles of his arm aching like a bitch but in a way that felt more comforting than exhausting. Chopping wood had helped -somewhat- but not enough to shake the weight pressing down on him.

Then, he stepped into the house, and the scent hit his nose.

Tenderloin. Creamed potatoes.

His favorite.

His stomach grumbled in approval, and when he rounded the corner into the kitchen, he found her setting the last plate on the table. She glanced up at him with a smile, like she hadn’t just completely read his mind.

“You’re back just in time,” she said, brushing her hands off on a dish towel. “Figured you’d be hungry.”

Bucky huffed, shrugging off his jacket. She knows. Of course, she knew. She always knew.

By the time he sat down, the first bite was enough to make his shoulders loosen. He didn’t say anything, just focused on his plate, on the warmth of the food, on how damn good it tasted.

By the time he finished his third helping, he finally leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose. “Darlin’, you’re gonna have to roll me out of here if you keep makin’ stuff like this.”

She huffed a laugh, stacking a couple of plates. “You say that like it’s my fault.”

“It is your fault,” he muttered, lazily twirling his fork. “Cookin’ like this.” He shook his head, tone half-admiring, half-accusatory. “Unfair.”

She chuckled, wiping down the counter before glancing over at him. He looked content, a rare sight when something was eating him. That alone made her move closer, stepping into his personal space.

Bucky barely had time to react before her arms wrapped around him, pressing a warm hug against his side. His chest tensed -not because he didn’t want it, never because he didn’t want it- but because it caught him off guard.

She pulled back slightly, flickering her eyes down, and before he could ask, she reached up and wiped the corner of his mouth with her thumb.

“There was-” she paused, tilting her head. “Potato.”

Bucky stiffened.

His hand came up to his mouth a second too late, rubbing over the spot as a slow warmth crept up his neck.

She just grinned. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

He scowled, with the kind of embarrassment that made him shift in his chair and grumble under his breath.

“Not flustered.”

“Uh-huh.”

She kissed his cheek quickly, then stepped away before he could protest further.

Bucky exhaled, rubbing his jaw before dropping his hand with a quiet hmph. He didn’t argue, because what was the point? She was already moving on, making casual conversation as she tidied up.

Then-

“We should probably grab a few things for the trip,” she said lightly, not looking at him as she rinsed a plate. “I was thinking we could head into town tomorrow, and pick out a couple of things.”

Bucky hummed in response, but the food in his stomach suddenly felt heavier.

------

They sat at the kitchen table with a notepad between them, as they jotted down things they’d need for the trip. The list was simple: snacks, water, some groceries.

“I’ll make something for the road,” she said, tapping the pen against the paper. “Something easy to eat while driving. I’ll grab the ingredients tomorrow.”

He nodded, with arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair. “I’ll check the truck. Make sure the tires, oil, and water are good.”

She hummed, writing that down, but then-

“Toilet paper.”

She paused, blinking at him. “What?”

“For the glove compartment,” Bucky said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Her lips twitched. “Why?”

His ears went pink. “What d’you mean why? When you gotta go, you gotta go. Even if it’s the middle of the road.”

She pressed her lips together, trying really hard not to laugh. “I mean, fair point.”

Bucky grumbled something under his breath as she added it to the list, the color still lingering on his cheeks. But then she glanced up, chewing on the end of the pen.

“You’ll need to grab some clothes from your cabin.”

That was when the shift happened.

His body didn’t move, but something in his expression tightened, a flicker of hesitation crossing his features.

She noticed immediately.

“Hey,” she said gently. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Bucky exhaled through his nose, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Yeah.” He didn’t sound convinced.

She reached across the table, touching his arm, waiting until he finally looked at her. “One step at a time, alright?”

A beat passed. Then another.

“Yeah,” he muttered, finally. “Guess I don’t have much of a choice.”

She squeezed his arm before letting go, keeping her voice light. “Actually, while we’re on the subject… do you have enough clothes to bring along?”

He sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I mean… I got stuff. But…” He hesitated. “I probably need some new things.”

She nodded slowly, reading between the lines.

He dreaded shopping. Trying things on, getting questioned by clerks, feeling pressured to buy things he didn’t even like.

“I can go,” she offered. “Pick some things up for you.”

Bucky glanced at her, skeptical. “And if I don’t like ‘em?”

“We return them first thing Monday morning.”

He exhaled, considering. “I don’t want anything fancy.”

“You? Fancy?” She smirked. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He rolled his eyes, and his shoulders eased the tension, just a little.

“…Something blue or black for the top,” he muttered after a pause.

She grinned. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

She could sense the weight still pressing down on him, so she steered the conversation into safer waters. “For the food, I was thinking… have you ever tried empanadas?”

Bucky’s brows lifted slightly. “Yeah, actually. Back in the army. One of the guys- his ma would bring ‘em when she visited. He’d share sometimes.”

Her eyes lit up. “Did you like them?”

He nodded, and a hint of a smile softened his features. “Yeah. They were good.”

“Well,” she said, leaning back in her chair, “I was thinking of making a meaty filling. Figured you’d like that.”

His lips twitched, an approving glint in his eyes. “Sounds great.”

She glanced at the clock, noting the time. “Alright, let’s head into town before the shops close. Almost no one opens on Sundays around here.”

Bucky let out a mock groan, pressing a hand to his stomach. “You sure you can get me outta this chair? Ate too much. You’re gonna make me gain weight at this rate.”

She laughed, standing up and stretching. “You’ll look very sexy. And I’ll have more of you to grab.”

That got him. His cheeks flushed a faint red as he ducked his head, suddenly finding the notepad very interesting.

“C’mon, big guy. Let’s go before the town shuts down on us.”

-----

Monday morning, they departed early.

He had insisted on driving, and she let him. Her meeting wasn’t until the afternoon, which meant they had time to get to the Airbnb, settle in, and for her to change before she had to leave. She had suggested a hotel -something nice, something easy- but he had shut down that idea pretty fast.

“Not stayin’ in a damn hotel,” he had muttered.

She knew why. It wasn’t just about avoiding people, it was about having a place that felt less like the city, a place that wasn’t sterile and unfamiliar, a place where he wouldn’t feel watched. An Airbnb was as close to a home as they were going to get in a place that felt otherwise hostile to him.

The trip itself was fine, though Bucky was quieter than ever. She didn’t push, didn’t try to fill the silence, just read her book, occasionally serving him coffee. She figured he needed to settle into his own thoughts and get used to the idea that they were going back to a place he had spent over more than a decade avoiding.

Eventually, she heard it, the low, unmistakable growl of his stomach.

She grinned, closing her book. “Alright, honey. Pull over.”

Bucky grunted. “M’fine.”

“Uh-huh.” She arched a brow. “Pull over. I’ll drive while you eat.”

He gave her a look but didn’t argue, pulling off in the curve. They switched places, and as soon as he grabbed the first empanada, she heard it, the almost joyful sound he made as he took the first bite.

She had eaten earlier, thank God, because somehow, Bucky managed to put away eight in one sitting. And an apple.

As he chewed, thoroughly pleased, she eyed him. “Bucky, are you sure you’re not pregnant?”

He paused mid-bite, squinting at her. “What?”

She grinned. “I mean, the way you’re inhaling those? You’re either growing a small human or preparing for winter hibernation.”

He swallowed, scowling. “They’re good.”

She chuckled, focusing back on the road. “Glad you like ‘em.”

She drove in silence, letting him be.

Bucky had eaten enough to put himself into a food coma, but that wasn’t the only reason he’d drifted off. She knew last night had been restless for him if he had even slept at all. He hadn’t said anything, but she’d felt it in the way he held her a little too long before bed, the way his breathing never fully evened out, the way he had been up before her.

So, when she glanced over and saw him slumped against the window, arms crossed, head tilted slightly, she wasn’t surprised. His chest rose and fell evenly, a few stray crumbs still clinging to his shirt.

She smiled a little and let him sleep.

For a couple of hours, she focused on the road, as the monotone hum of the tires and the quiet murmur of the radio filled the space. But as they got closer to the city, everything changed. The road widened, traffic thickened, and the sky was swallowed by looming buildings.

A sudden blaring horn cut through the quiet.

Bucky jolted awake immediately, sucking in a sharp breath as his hand twitched toward something. His seatbelt, the door, his hip. She wasn’t sure if he was reaching for a weapon or just bracing himself, but for a split second, his eyes were wild, darting around before finally landing on her.

She winced. “Sorry. City drivers.”

He exhaled hard, rubbing a hand down his face. “Should’ve woken me up. I could’ve driven.”

“And be cranky and starving while stuck in traffic?” She shot him a look before glancing back at the GPS. “Yeah, no thanks.”

He muttered something under his breath, but the fight had already left him. Instead, he turned his head toward the window, taking in the skyline, the crowded sidewalks, and the flashing signs. His fingers tapped restlessly against his thigh.

A few more turns, and she finally pulled up in front of their Airbnb. A modest little apartment, nothing flashy, but in a quieter area just ten minutes from where she needed to be.

She shifted into the parking lot and sighed, stretching her fingers. “Alright. Home sweet home.”

Bucky didn’t move at first, just stared up at the building like it might lunge at him.

Then, with a slow exhale, he unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for their bags.

-----

They didn’t need a key.

Instead, there was a digital lock with a number combination, which she entered easily after checking the confirmation email. The mechanism beeped, the door clicked open, and Bucky’s stomach twisted.

He didn’t like it.

A code? No actual lock? Who else had access to this thing? The owner, obviously. Maybe the cleaning crew. What if the code hadn’t been changed recently? How hard could it be to override it, to force the door open if someone really wanted to? What if-

Then he felt it.

Her arms wrapped around his waist, her body pressing into his back. A second later, a soft kiss against the space between his shoulder blades.

Bucky exhaled. Slowly.

“I’ll go change and then I’ll leave,” she murmured against his shirt. “Why don’t you take a shower and get comfortable? Or go for a walk if you want.”

He didn’t answer right away, just rested his hand over hers where it rested on his stomach, giving it a small squeeze. Not much, but enough to let her know he’d heard her.

She squeezed back before stepping away, leaving him standing in the doorway as she disappeared inside.

He took another slow breath, glancing at the lock one last time before finally stepping inside after her.

-----

The apartment was… fine.

Smaller than her place back home, but clean, modern. The furniture was sleek, everything in shades of beige and gray, the kind of aesthetic that looked nice in photos but didn’t feel like anyone lived there. Too polished. Too impersonal.

But it was quiet.

That was something, at least.

Bucky paced through the space, scanning everything the way he always did when he entered somewhere new. Windows locked. No weird creaks on the floor. The bathroom door was solid, good enough for some peace. The bedroom was decent -bigger than he expected- but the bedspread was stiff, too neat, too unfamiliar. The walls were bare, and the city noise outside was muffled but ever-present, like a dull hum beneath his skin.

He sighed, rubbing his face. It wasn’t home. But for the next few days, it had to be. He wandered back into the kitchen, running a hand over the smooth counters. It was nice, but something about it felt… unused. Like no one had ever actually cooked in here before.

Well. That was about to change.

Without really thinking about it, he decided he’d make dinner.

They had packed some groceries in a box in the truck’s back, just to be safe, in case they couldn’t find a store right away. He sorted through it, pulling out what he needed.

Dinosaur pasta.

She had laughed at him when he tossed it into the cart back home, but he didn’t care. It was easy and reliable. And this time, he’d give it a twist. She had taught him how to make pink sauce a while ago, and he’d actually paid attention. Figured he’d surprise her with it.

Or so he thought.

The hour of her return came and went.

Bucky stirred the sauce one last time, glancing at the clock. Then the door. No messages.

He exhaled, shaking his head. She’s busy. It’s fine.

But another half hour passed. Then another. The food sat untouched, already cold. His chest tightened. Not with anger, not really, but with something else. Something he didn’t want to name.

Eventually, he gave up. He microwaved himself a portion, eating in silence before rinsing his plate and heading for the bedroom.

He didn’t bother turning on the big lights, just flipped on the TV, letting it play something -anything- to fill the space. He lay back against the pillows, one arm behind his head, eyes on the screen but not really watching.

Then, finally, the sound of the front door opening.

Soft footsteps. A rustling of bags.

A pause.

“…Bucky?”

He didn’t answer right away, just listened. A quiet exhale. Then-

“My phone died,” she said, her voice carried down the hall. “I couldn’t message you. I- I’m so sorry.”

Bucky blinked up at the ceiling, with his lips pressed into a thin line.

For a second, he debated saying it’s fine. But it wasn’t, not really. He wasn’t mad, not exactly, but something swirled in his chest, something that made him feel stupid for waiting, for hoping for something as simple as dinner together.

So instead, he just said, “There’s food in the kitchen.”

A beat of silence. Then soft footsteps, getting closer.

She peeked into the room, eyes full of guilt. “You made dinner?”

Bucky shrugged. “Figured you’d be hungry.”

“You’re so thoughtful, darling,” she murmured, stepping closer. “I’m really sorry. I’m sure it’s delicious.”

He hummed, noncommittal, eyes flicking back to the TV. He wasn’t trying to be cold, but something in him was still knotted up, and he didn’t know how to untangle it just yet.

She didn’t push.

Instead, she peeled off the blazer she had been wearing all day, then unbuttoned her blouse, sighing in relief as she swapped it out for something infinitely more comfortable: one of his old henleys.

She had stolen it from his cabin months ago, claiming it as hers without argument, and at this point, he had just accepted it.

Bucky caught the familiar fabric from the corner of his eye, and for some reason, that tiny thing made his chest ache a little less.

She gave him one last look, a small, tired smile before disappearing into the kitchen to heat up the food.

-----

The hum of the microwave filled the kitchen, casting a soft glow over the countertops as she leaned against them, rubbing her tired eyes. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until now, as the scent of the warmed-up pasta made her stomach grumble.

She pulled the plate out, grabbed a fork, and settled at the small dining table. The first bite was perfect, creamy, and rich, with just the right balance of tomato and cream. Even after sitting for hours, it was still good. She smiled to herself. Of course, it was.

She heard a faint noise behind her, and she glanced up to see Bucky lingering in the doorway, arms crossed, watching her eat. He wasn’t brooding, not exactly, but there was something unreadable in his expression, something cautious like he was still holding onto whatever had crawled into his chest earlier.

She chewed slowly, then set her fork down. “You gonna stand there all night, or you wanna come sit?”

Bucky huffed through his nose but pushed off the doorframe, walking toward her with slow, measured steps. He didn’t sit, though. Just leaned against the counter, hands braced on either side of him.

She took another bite, then met his gaze. “It’s really good.”

He hummed like he wasn’t sure whether to believe her.

She frowned, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Then, without thinking too hard about it, she reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his.

Bucky stilled.

She squeezed gently, running slow circles over the back of his hand with her thumb. “I hate that you waited for me and I wasn’t here.”

He let out a slow exhale, shifting his shoulders. “S’not your fault.”

“I know,” she murmured. “But I still hate it.”

He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes flicked away like he wasn’t sure what to do with the feeling pressing against his ribs.

Then, finally, he squeezed her hand back. She smiled, tugging lightly until he sighed and gave in, pulling out the chair beside her and sitting down.

She took another bite, then set her fork down again. “You know I love this, right?”

He blinked at her. “What?”

She gestured to the plate. “You. Making dinner. Thinking about me. I know you don’t think it’s a big deal, but it is to me.”

Bucky swallowed, flexing his fingers around hers. “Yeah?”

She smiled, bringing his hand to her lips and pressing a soft kiss against his knuckles. “Yeah.”

He let out a slow breath for the first time that night, as something in his chest finally let go.

------

The next morning, they went out to walk around and make the most of their time before she had to head to her second meeting. The city was already alive with movement, people rushing to work, street vendors setting up, the noise of conversations and car horns blending into the background noise.

They grabbed something to eat at a small café, sitting by the window, watching the world go by. Bucky was quieter than usual, but she didn’t push. He had agreed to come with her and had stepped into a place he hated for her, and that was already more than enough.

After breakfast, they strolled down a quieter street, hand in hand. She had been enjoying herself -taking in the sights, pointing out things she thought were interesting- when she finally noticed it.

Bucky was stiff.

His jaw was tight, and his free hand curled into a loose fist by his side. But what really gave him away was the way his eyes moved, scanning their surroundings, tracking every person that passed by.

She squeezed his hand gently. “What’s wrong?”

He exhaled, shaking his head. “Nothin’.”

She arched a brow. “Bucky.”

His shoulders shifted, and after a pause, he sighed. “…I feel observed.”

Her heart clenched a little. She knew what this was, his self-consciousness creeping in, his social anxiety pressing against his ribs, telling him he didn’t belong here, seeing threats where there were none.

She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand. “I don’t perceive it.”

He made a quiet, disbelieving sound, but before he could argue, she smirked. “Although, I do think there’s a bunch of women looking at you.”

That startled him. He blinked down at her. “What?”

“You’re too handsome,” she simply said, like it was a fact.

Bucky groaned, shaking his head. “‘Guess only you see that, darlin’.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Bucky, I’m gonna say this once, because I really don’t want you all cocky later, but… you are a gorgeous man.”

His brows pulled together, like the very idea confused him. Before he could brush it off, she pressed on.

“I know you don’t see yourself like that. Not anymore. But you are,” she said firmly, squeezing his hand. “So believe me when I tell you that probably six out of ten women we’ve passed would say yes if you asked them out.”

Bucky’s ears tinged pink, and his lips parted slightly before he clamped his mouth shut, looking away. He shifted his weight, clearing his throat like that would somehow push the embarrassment down.

“…That’s not a real statistic,” he muttered.

------

He sat on a park bench, stretching his legs out as she wandered over to a street vendor. She was buying caramelized peanuts, chatting with the old man behind the cart, moving her hands as she gestured about something.

He let his gaze stray through the park.

A pair of guys in army uniforms caught his attention as they strolled past, laughing easily, and moving with confident steps. One of them playfully nodded toward a group of girls sitting on a nearby bench, earning a few shy smiles in return.

Bucky’s chest stiffened.

Once upon a time, he had been one of those guys.

A menace on his days off, all easy charm and reckless energy making the most of whatever time he had before duty called again. He had forgotten, sometimes, what that version of himself looked like.

But then-

The unending campaigns. The things he had to do. The things he couldn’t take back.

His mind yanked him somewhere else, somewhere darker.

The storage house. The explosion. The searing heat of fire before everything went black, then worse, the crushing weight, the sickening snap of bone, the panic clawing up his throat as he realized he was trapped.

Dying buried alive.

Rainwater trickled through the cracks, dampening the dust, and turning it into mud.

His breathing fastened and his gaze dropped to the pavement, curling his fingers into his palms. The world around him dimmed, his body here but his mind there, stuck between then and now.

Then-

A touch. Soft. Soothing.

His head jerked up, with an unfocused gaze.

She crouched beside him, resting her hand lightly on his shoulder, with a concerned expression.

And when his eyes met hers, she sucked in a small, worried breath, because she had never seen that look in his eyes before.

Vacant. Haunted.

Lost.

-----

She didn’t let go of his hand the entire walk back.

Bucky didn’t protest, but he didn’t say much either. His grip was solid, but his steps were stiff, and his jaw was locked so tight she could see the muscle twitching. He kept his eyes forward, scanning the sidewalk, shoulders squared like he was bracing for something, though she wasn’t sure what.

She kept her voice soft. “Almost there.”

He hummed, barely acknowledging it.

She didn’t push.

The city noise surrounded them. The honking of cars, the chatter of people passing by, the echo of hurried footsteps against the pavement, but she barely noticed. Her focus was on him, on the way he was still somewhere else, even as they turned the last corner and the building came into view.

When they reached the door, she entered the code with one hand, still holding onto him with the other. The lock clicked. She pushed the door open, stepping inside first before turning to look at him.

Bucky exhaled slowly like he was only now allowing himself to breathe.

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Come on.”

He didn’t move at first, flicking his eyes past her like he wasn’t sure he wanted to cross the threshold. But then, slowly, he stepped inside.

She shut the door behind him.

“Wanna lie down?” she asked softly.

Bucky didn’t answer right away, but then he nodded, just once.

She guided him toward the bedroom, with her hand still loosely curled around his. The moment they reached the bed, she lay down first, settling against the pillows. He hesitated for only a second before following, shifting until he found the place he always found soothing, his head resting in the valley of her breasts, arms wrapped firmly around her waist.

She exhaled, letting her fingers trace slow, lazy circles across his back.

He said nothing, but she felt it, the way his body, little by little, started to relax against her. The tension in his shoulders softened, his breathing evened out, and his grip on her went from holding on to simply holding.

The minutes passed on, and the only sound in the room was the soft tick of the clock.

“You’re gonna be late,” he grumbled, muffled against her body.

She hummed, drifting her fingers up into his hair, massaging his scalp in slow, soothing strokes. “Don’t care.”

Bucky huffed.

“They haven’t even deposited my travel allowance yet,” she added. “They can wait a few more minutes.”

He sighed against her, and she felt it, the subtle way he melted just a little more, sinking into the warmth of her touch, the safety of her body against his.

“Tell you what,” she murmured, still tracing slow circles over his scalp. “Since you’re so tense, I’ll give you a nice massage when I get back. What do you think?”

Bucky nuzzled against her chest, exhaling a breath that was just shy of a sigh. “I’d be real fucked up if I said no to that.”

She smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Perfect.”

Her hands never stopped moving, going down to rub at the knots in his shoulders, then ghosting along the base of his neck.

After a moment, she shifted slightly beneath him. “Will you be okay alone in here?”

He nodded against her.

It wasn’t a complete lie.

He would be fine. The walls weren’t closing in, the noise from outside was manageable, and he had a place to retreat to, away from the chaos of the city. Technically, he’d be fine.

But deep down, he knew what was coming.

She would leave. The apartment would get too quiet. His thoughts -the ones he had been trying to push down since the park- would creep back in, crawling up his throat, and pressing against his ribs.

And that dark, familiar pull would be there, whispering its old, ugly promises.

It was one of his last dirty secrets.

One he was ashamed to reveal to her.

He had gotten better -so much better- but the temptation never really went away. Sometimes it was just a flicker, something he could ignore. Other times…

Like now.

His fingers twitched against her waist, resisting the urge to reach for his phone, to make the order before she even left. Just one bottle. Just to take the edge off.

“I won’t be gone long,” she reassured him.

Bucky swallowed. Nodded again.

“I know,” he murmured, hoping she couldn’t hear the lie beneath his words.

-----

The second the door shut behind her, the apartment felt different.

Empty.

He stayed in bed for a moment, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. The warmth her body had left behind was fading, replaced by the cool feeling of being alone.

He took a slow breath. Let it out.

Then he sat up, rubbed a hand down his face, and reached for his phone.

It wasn’t even a debate, not really. The thought had been there since the park, lurking in the back of his mind, and now, without her here to distract him, it clawed its way forward.

Just a bottle. Just a drink. Just to settle things.

His fingers moved before he could talk himself out of it. A few taps, an automatic confirmation. Done.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, but the knock on the door came quicker than expected. He stood slowly, crossing the room, hesitating just for a second before pulling the door open.

The delivery guy barely looked at him, just handed over the bag, muttering a quick have a good one before turning away.

Bucky shut the door and stared down at the weight in his hands.

For a long moment, he didn’t move.

Then, he walked into the kitchen and set the bottle down on the counter. He exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders before turning away. His muscles ached from how tense he’d been all morning

He’d take a shower first.

But the water didn’t wash away his thoughts.

His mind was on a battlefield, mud, blood, fire, and screams. The weight of debris pinning him down. The searing pain in his left arm, so sharp it had felt like his body was being torn in half.

And then… the hospital.

The look on the officer’s face when he was told, flatly, clinically, that he was expendable. That his sacrifice had been expected. Calculated. That they would move forward without him.

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead against the shower tiles. He had fought for his country. Given everything. And when he needed them most, they had tossed him aside like a broken weapon.

Then she walked away.

He tousled his hair, exhaling sharply as the memory crawled forward, uninvited.

She had grown distant. At first, it was subtle: longer pauses between messages, a clipped voice when she finally answered his calls. Then came the excuses. How busy she was. How complicated things werefor her. How she needed time.

Eventually, she stopped answering at all.

Her friend had been the one to deliver the final blow. “It was difficult for her,” she had said, carefully avoiding his eyes. “She’s not in a place to handle… your situation. She’s struggling too, you know.”

His situation.

His problems.

His disability.

He turned off the water, with a rough movement. He grabbed a towel, rubbing it over his face before wrapping it around his waist.

By the time he stepped out of the bathroom, his mind was still in shambles, raw and restless, like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

Then his eyes landed on the counter.

The bottle was still there, untouched. Waiting.

Bucky cursed under his breath.

His fingers twitched, and before he could think too hard about it, he grabbed the bottle and poured himself a glass. He stared at his distorted reflection on the smooth, amber-colored surface for a while.

But he didn’t drink.

Instead, he turned away, rubbing a towel over his damp hair. He needed boxers. Maybe if he did something -even something as simple as getting dressed- it would take the edge off.

He shuffled through his suitcase, pushing aside neatly folded shirts, a couple of henleys, and his new corduroy pants. No boxers. He frowned.

Then he remembered, she had packed them in hers.

With a sigh, he crouched next to her bag, unzipping it and rummaging inside. His fingers brushed against some fabric, then something firmer, a box.

Cardboard. Smooth.

Curious, he lifted it out.

It was a large, homemade chocolate box from Winnifred’s, the local baker back home. He recognized it instantly.

He swallowed hard, looking down at the box in his hands, tightening his grip around it while he walked to the living room.

She had planned this, before the trip. She had thought of him, of making this first Valentine’s together special, even when she knew he wasn’t the kind of guy who cared for fancy celebrations.

And he knew -of course he knew- she had probably planned something else, something back home. Maybe dinner at his cabin, decorated secretly while he worked, something small but theirs alone. But the trip had messed everything up, throwing them into this place that didn’t feel right, didn’t feel like home.

Still, she had brought a little piece of it with her, for him.

Bucky exhaled shakily, blinking hard. His gaze flicked toward the counter, to the glass of whiskey waiting for him, and the bottle looming beside it.

For a moment, he just stared.

Then he walked over, grabbed the glass, and dumped it in the sink. The sharp splash of liquid against metal filled the silence, followed by the pour as he emptied the rest of the bottle down the drain.

He didn’t watch it disappear. Just threw the empty bottle in the trash, turned, and sat heavily on the couch. Then, he opened the chocolate box with careful fingers, staring at the neat rows inside, hovering his index over them for a moment before he grabbed one.

This would do.

He took a bite, letting the rich sweetness melt on his tongue.

Yeah.

This would do.

-----

The first thing she saw when she stepped through the door that afternoon, was Bucky sprawled on the couch, snoring softly.

Her surprise chocolate box rested almost empty over his stomach, and his fingers -coated with a brownish glint- dangled near the floor. His towel had loosened slightly, barely hanging onto his waist, exposing just enough skin to make her stare longer than necessary.

She pressed her lips together to keep from giggling.

She almost took a picture.

Almost.

But then, she remembered.

The way he had been before she left, lost in his own mind, dealing with something he didn’t want to express. It wouldn’t be strange if he had some kind of oral anxiety attack, needing something -anything- to keep himself calm.

So instead, she tiptoed, lifting the nearly empty chocolate box from his stomach and setting it aside. Then, she grabbed a blanket, draped it carefully over him, and turned down the lights.

With a small sigh, she slipped into the bedroom and pulled out his old henley. Clearly, they weren’t going out for the day.

She then moved into the kitchen, rolling up her sleeves as she started pulling out ingredients for dinner. She wasn’t in a rush, just moving through things, deciding what to make while Bucky got his rest.

It didn’t take long before she felt it.

The familiar warmth of strong arms wrapping around her waist. A heavy, solid weight pressed against her back. The slow, hot breath against her ear.

“Isn’t it the massage lady,” Bucky murmured, sleepily.

Before she could respond, he pressed a lazy kiss to the side of her neck. Then another. Slow, unhurried, tasting her, feeling her warmth beneath his lips.

She shivered, tilting her head just slightly, giving him more access. “You’re supposed to be asleep.”

He hummed against her skin, tightening his grip on her waist. “Woke up.” Another kiss, just below her jaw. “Found somethin’ better to do.”

She exhaled a soft laugh, resting a hand over his. “That so?”

“Mm.” His lips dragged lower, pressing against the curve of her shoulder. “Still gotta cash in that massage.”

Her smile widened. “Oh, do you?”

“Mhmm.” He nuzzled against her skin, voice dropping to a rasp. “Feelin’ all sorts of tension, sweetheart.”

She smirked, reaching back to run her fingers through his sleep-mussed hair. “Well, we did say we’d make the most of our time here…”

Bucky hummed his approval, as his hands started to wander, and his breath blew warm and slow against her pulse.

Dinner could wait.

She turned in his arms, her body still glued to his. Her hands slid up slowly, threading her fingers behind his neck, playing lazily with the hairs at his nape.

“Well, mister,” she murmured, tilting her head. “You’re already in your birthday suit… where exactly are you aching?” she asked, playfully pressing herself flush against him, against the unmistakable evidence of his interest, thick and hard against her stomach.

Bucky let out a low, rumbling sound, tightening his hands around her waist. “You really gotta ask?”

She grinned, dragging her nails lightly over the back of his neck. “Mmm… just making sure. Wouldn’t wanna miss a spot.”

His grip flexed, pulling her even closer, grinding his erection against her. “Sweetheart,” he rasped, voice thick with sleep and heat, “if you keep talkin’ like that, I’m afraid we’ll skip the massage.”

“Oh?” she hummed, trailing her fingers up the back of his neck, scratching lightly over his scalp. “And here I was, all ready to… work on you.”

She let her one hand slide between them, dipping lower, palming his cock through the towel.

Bucky inhaled sharply, and his whole body tensed as her grip tightened just slightly, teasing, testing. His head tipped forward, resting his forehead against hers.

“Darlin’,” he warned, with a strained voice

She smiled, leaning in just enough for her lips to brush his. “What?” she murmured, giving another slow, deliberate squeeze.

Bucky groaned, a deep, needy sound. “You’re real close to losin’ that henley.”

She grinned, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “That a threat or a promise?”

“Both,” he growled, then kissed her like he meant it.

His lips crashed against hers, slow at first, but that control didn’t last long. Not with the way her fingers kept working him through the towel, sending heat curling low in his stomach, making his knees damn near weak.

He groaned again into her mouth, slipping one hand down to grab a handful of her thigh, pulling her flush against him. The pressure of her palm massaging his cock, the way her body molded to his, it was too much and not enough all at once.

“Fuck,” he muttered against her lips, with ragged breaths.

She smirked, dragging her nails lightly down his back. “You’re so tense, baby,” she teased, voice dripping with false innocence.

He huffed a laugh, slipping his hands slipping beneath the henley, warm, coarsed palms gliding over the bare skin of her thighs, up to her ass. He gave a firm squeeze, pulling her against his aching cock. “Yeah? Pretty sure you’re the one causin’ the tension.”

She gasped softly, and he took advantage of the sound, catching her lips again, and swallowing every little noise she made as he pressed her back against the counter.

Her fingers hooked into the knot of his towel, tugging, loosening it, but before she could pull it away completely, he grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

“Oh, no,” he rasped, dragging his lips down her neck. “You first, sweetheart.”

Without another word, he slipped his fingers under the hem of her nightie and started sliding it up, as his mouth trailed lower, his breath hot against her skin.

“B-but the idea was to make you feel good,” she pouted, though there wasn’t much conviction behind it.

He chuckled, deep and lazy, vibrating against her skin. “Oh, trust me, sweetheart,” he murmured, dragging his lips up to her ear. “This is gonna make me feel real good.”

His fingers skimmed over her bare thighs, slipping higher, slowly and deliberately. Then he tugged the nightie over her head in one smooth motion, tossing it aside without a second thought. He leaned back just enough to take her in, pupils blown wide with hunger.

“Look at you,” he murmured, tracing a hand down her side, rough fingers ghosting over soft skin. “So damn beautiful.”

Her lips parted, her body already melting into his touch, but he wasn’t done yet.

Bucky bent slightly, gripping the backs of her thighs and effortlessly lifting her onto the counter. His hands slid up, spreading her knees apart as he stepped between them. He barely gave her a chance to breathe before his lips were on hers again, his hands gripping her thighs, keeping her close, keeping her his.

She shifted against him, pressing closer, brushing her bare skin against his, and fuck, he could lose himself in this.

In her.

After the kind of morning he had, after the things clawing at the edges of his mind, he knew he had been short with her. He hadn’t meant to be, she was one of the few good things he had since everything went to hell, and the last thing he wanted was to push her away.

And yet, she had still come to him. Still had covered him with a blanket, made sure he was comfortable and had started making dinner instead of being upset that he had shut down on her.

He didn’t deserve that. Didn’t deserve her.

Bucky exhaled against her lips, dragging his hands up her sides before dipping lower, catching the band of her panties between his fingers. “These,” he murmured, snapping the waistband lightly, “are in my way.”

She let out a breathless little laugh, lifting her hips just enough to help him. He wasted no time, sliding them down her legs, letting the fabric hit the floor before running his hands back up her thighs, spreading her open for him.

His mouth traced along her jaw, nipping at the skin just below her ear before whispering, “You really are too damn good to me, sweetheart.”

She sighed, tilting her head to let him continue his path down her neck. “Maybe,” she teased. “Or maybe you just deserve it.”

Bucky huffed, shaking his head, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he dropped to his knees.

His fingers dug into her thighs, holding her in place. He could lose himself here.

He would.

He didn’t wait for permission.

He pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh, slow and deliberate, feeling the way she shivered beneath his touch. He wanted to take his time, to savor, to make up for earlier, not just for himself. She deserved that.

One of his hands slid up, fingers spreading over her tummy, pressing gently as if to hold her steady. The other trailed lower, teasing along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, watching with satisfaction as her breath hitched.

Then, finally, finally, he leaned in.

He flicked his tongue against her, just barely, a featherlight touch that made her jolt. He smirked, gripping her hips to keep her still, then did it again, a little firmer this time. “Fuck,” he muttered against her, voice rough with want. “You always taste so good.”

She whimpered, as her fingers found their way into his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. That sent a shiver straight to his cock, and made him need to hear more of those sweet little sounds from her lips.

He licked a slow, teasing stripe up her slit, circling her clit with the tip of his tongue before pulling away just enough to blow cool air against her. The way she whined, the way her hips bucked up into his mouth, fuck, she was perfect.

He groaned, gripping her thighs as he dived back in, pressing his tongue against her pussy, stroking her just right, slipping lower to taste all of her before dragging back up to flick again her swollen, aching clit.

Her thighs clenched around his head, and he loved it. He wanted it.

He slipped a finger inside her, groaning at how warm and wet she was, at how she clenched around him, so tight and perfect. He curled it just right, adding a second, pumping them slowly, in time with the strokes of his tongue.

“Bucky-” she gasped, tightening her grip on his hair, legs trembling slightly.

That only spurred him on.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured against her, voice thick with hunger. “Let me have it.” He pleaded, suckling at her clit with intent. He didn’t stop, not until she was moaning his name, arching against him, coming undone beneath his mouth, just the way he wanted.

Her thighs instinctively closed again around his head, rolling her hips, searching, chasing his mouth as she neared that blissful edge.

Her grip on his hair was tight, almost desperate, and fuck, he loved it. Loved the way she came undone for him, loved how she let go with him.

“Bucky! oh God-”

His name tumbled from her lips, breathless, wrecked, and that was all it took. Her thighs trembled, her back arched as the pleasure crashed over her, her walls clenching his fingers tightly as she came apart.

He didn’t stop. Not yet. He worked her through it, lapping up every little aftershock, basking in the way her body pulsed, how she shuddered against him.

Only when she whimpered, overstimulated, did he finally ease up, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss against her inner thigh.

He looked up at her, pupils blown wide. “Think that did more for me than it did for you,” he rasped, smirking as he ran his hands over her still-trembling thighs.

She blinked down at him, dazed, as she tried to catch her breath.

Then, with a lazy, satisfied smile, she tugged at his hair. “Get up here,” she murmured. “You’re not done yet.”

“No, I’m not,” he agreed, with dark intent.

Before she could even catch her breath, his lips crashed against hers, hungry, desperate, gripping her waist almost brutishly as he pulled her off the counter. She barely had time to register the shift before he spun her around, bending her against the cool surface.

A gasp left her lips as she splayed her hands against the counter for balance.

He groaned at the sight in front of him, before running his hands down her back, over the curve of her ass, squeezing once before nudging her legs apart with his knee.

“Look at you,” he rasped, pressing his chest to her back, letting her feel every inch of him, hard and aching against her. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

He kissed the back of her neck, trailing his lips down to her shoulder as one hand slid between her legs, fingers slipping through the mess he had made.

Still soaked for him.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, as he stroked her, feeling her jolt beneath his touch.

She whimpered, shifting back against him, pressing into his fingers, wordlessly pleading for more.

Bucky smirked against her skin. “You want me inside, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes,” she gasped, pushing back against him again.

That was all he needed.

He gripped her hip with one hand, guiding himself with the other, teasing her, just barely pressing in. Then, with a low growl, he snapped his hips forward, burying himself inside her in one deep, slow thrust.

A broken moan escaped her lips, fingers gripping the counter as he stretched her, filled her, claimed her.

Bucky clenched his jaw, trying real hard to keep it together, to give her a second to adjust, but fuck, she was so warm, so tight, squeezing him just right-

Then she pushed her hips back against him, wordlessly demanding more.

And who the hell was he to deny her?

Bucky growled, and set a brutal pace, determined to make her feel every inch of his cock.

He didn’t speak.

He just took.

His hands were bruising on her hips, gripping tight enough to leave marks, using the leverage to pull her onto his cock with deep, brutal thrusts. There was no teasing, no slow buildup, just raw, desperate need, pouring out of him with every snap of his hips.

Each stroke drove her forward, and her fingers slipped against the counter as she struggled to hold herself up. The force of his movements knocked the breath from her lungs, and made her whimper and moan, leaving her body pliant beneath his.

He was relentless.

He stretched her wide, filled her with every rough thrust, dragging against that sensitive spot inside her that made her keen. Her walls clenched down around him, and he responded with a ragged, guttural groan, tightening his fingers, as his pace grew even more frenzied.

He wasn’t holding back.

The obscene slap of skin against skin filled the kitchen, mixing with her gasps, and her breathless cries. He drove into her, each movement fueled by something dark and desperate, something he couldn’t put into words.

Because right now, he wasn’t thinking about anything except how good she felt around him, how perfectly she took him, how much he needed this, needed her.

Her legs trembled, and her body arched against him, as every hard thrust sent the pleasure curling up her spine. She was close, her breaths turning into sharp, broken moans, her body tightening around him. The delicious pressure and wet heat threatened to undo him, but he gritted his teeth, determined to make this last.

He didn’t stop.

Couldn’t stop.

His rhythm turned rougher, harder, as he chased the only thing that made sense, the feeling of her falling apart beneath him. One hand snaked between her sweat-slicked thighs to rub tight, hard circles over her throbbing clit.

When she came, she practically sobbed in pleasure, throwing her head back in a silent scream. Her walls clenched around him like a silken fist, massaging his throbbing cock and pushing him dangerously close to the edge. But he wasn’t done.

Not yet.

With a growl, he kept going, wrapping one arm around her waist to hold her up as he kept fucking into her, hard and deep, determined to wring every last bit of pleasure from her wrecked body, until all she could do was take it.

The countertop creaked beneath the force of his thrusts, and her body jerked with every sharp snap of his hips like a ragdoll. She was overstimulated, so sensitive, but she took it, let him use her, let him chase his own pleasure the way he needed to.

His fingers dug into her skin again, and his pace turned erratic, desperate, sweat slicking his chest as he buried himself inside her again and again. His breath was ragged, and his jaw clenched so tight it ached, while his head swam in her intoxicating warmth, the one thing that calmed him, that kept him from spiraling.

His grip bruised as he slammed into her one last time, burying his cock deep as his body seized. His breath caught, a strangled groan escaped his throat as he spilled inside her, grinding his hips against her rear, making sure every last drop was pumped deep inside her waiting body. For a long moment, neither of them moved, and only the sound in the space was their ragged breathing.

Then, finally, Bucky exhaled, loosening his grip just enough to press his forehead to the back of her neck.

He didn’t speak.

Didn’t know what to say.

So instead, he just held her -his anchor, his salvation- until his heart stopped racing and the weight pressing down on his chest finally, finally lifted.

She stood there, trying to catch her breath, with her body still trembling as Bucky held her close, his chest rising and falling against her back. He was still nestled between her legs, slick walls cradling his spent, twitching cock.

She rested her forehead against her folded arms, as a shaky laugh escaped her lips. “Well, Buck… that was… something else,” she breathed out, trying to catch her breath.

Bucky huffed a quiet, almost satisfied sound. He hadn't meant to be so rough, so desperate, but something about what happened, about the way she let him have her, the way she took everything he gave, made it impossible to hold back.

“Didn’t hurt you, did I?” he finally murmured.

She smiled against her arm. “No. Far from it,” she whispered, turning her head just enough to catch his eyes, with a teasing glint. “I suspected it, but didn’t know you had that in you.”

His lips brushed the back of her neck, a quiet apology hidden in his touch. He wanted to say something, to tell her how much she meant to him, how much he needed her, but the words tangled heavily in his throat.

As Bucky carefully pulled out of her, a sharp gasp left her lips. His hands stayed on her hips, but his gaze dropped immediately to where they were still connected, to the way his cum slowly trickled down her inner thigh, glistening against her skin.

Something primal and possessive bloomed in his chest.

Before he could think twice about it, he reached down, swiping his thumb through the mess, gathering every drop before pushing it back inside her with slow, deliberate pressure.

She gasped, jolting, gripping hard at the counter. “Bucky-”

“Shhh,” he shushed, sliding his free hand up her spine, as his lips brushed the nape of her neck. “Can’t let it go to waste, sweetheart.”

Her breath came out in a shudder, and her legs shook as he pushed his thumb deeper, as if claiming her all over again.

Satisfied, he finally withdrew, fingers glistening as he traced lazy circles over her overstimulated pussy, smirking when she whimpered at the touch.

He was about to tease her -about how sensitive she was, how good she looked wrecked for him, slapping her softly- when her breathless voice cut through the haze.

“I take it as you liked the chocolates,” she teased, turning around in his arms and pressing a slow kiss to his sternum. “this was a very pleasant way of saying thanks”

His hands slid back down to her hips, gripping firmly, fingers pressing into the flesh he had spent the last half an hour worshipping. He hummed, satisfied, tilting his head as he looked down at her. “You wanted me to like ‘em, didn’t you?”

She sighed, pressing her face briefly against his chest, before pulling back just enough to cradle his face with one hand. “I’m glad you did,” she whispered.

He exhaled, leaning into her touch.

“And I’m sorry that we’re stuck here until Friday.”

His throat worked as he swallowed, flicking his gaze away for half a second before settling back on her.

“S’not your fault,” he muttered.

She pressed another kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “Still.” As she spoke, her fingers trailed up his arm, slow and deliberate, mapping the rough ridges and scarred skin that told stories of pain and survival.

Bucky tensed beneath her touch.

It was instinctive, something ingrained so deep in him he didn’t even think about it. His scars weren’t something he liked being noticed, much less touched. But she had never treated them like something to be ashamed of, never recoiled or hesitated.

And now, instead of pulling away, she leaned in, brushing her lips over the marred skin of his shoulder before playfully nipping at it.

His breath halted.

She grinned against his skin. “You know… I still owe you that massage,” she murmured, pressing her fingers into the firm muscle of his bicep, kneading it gently.

He exhaled sharply, not in discomfort, but in something else. Something warmer. She had a way of disarming him, stripping away the self-consciousness he didn’t even realize he was holding onto.

His lips twitched, as his hands found their place on her hips again. “You’re not gonna let that go, huh?”

She hummed, dragging her lips along his shoulder, hands working their way up to his neck. “Nope.”

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. His tension was gone, replaced by something softer. “Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, squeezing her hip. “Guess I’m all yours.”

She took his hand, guiding him toward the bedroom.

As they walked, Bucky’s free hand reached for the nearly empty chocolate box on the table, smiling to himself.

She raised a brow. “Still hungry?”

His little smile deepened, something dark, wicked flickering behind his eyes as he squeezed her fingers in his.

“Somethin’ like that,” he murmured, winking an eye.

She swallowed, as heat prickled at the base of her spine, suddenly very aware that whatever he had planned… she’d be the one melting like chocolate before the night was over.

Dividers by: @/strangergraphics

[lorilane33]

The chokehold Bucky will ALWAYS have on me is unreal 😆🤭

By The Warmth Of The Oven

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Summary: You are baking cookies for the Avengers holiday party when a certain super solider comes into the kitchen tipsy for the first time...

Word Count: 1.1k

Warning(s): none. pure fluff. tipsy bucky.

Prompt/Event: @the-slumberparty december daze -> is it those cookies that smell delicious or is it you?

a/n: This fluffy drabble is my holiday gift to you my dear Bella @nickfowlerrr ♡ In honor of Can You Feel It? being the first of many beautiful fics I read of yours 🥹🩷 Thank you everyone for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ♡♡♡

bucky masterlist ♡ || fluffy winter drabbles masterlist ❆

“Smells good…” Bucky’s voice comes out of nowhere from behind you as you grab another tray of chocolate chip cookies from the oven. You glance over your shoulder to find him sauntering into the kitchen, making his way over to you. 

“Freshly baked cookies always do,” you reply with a gratified grin, placing the tray on top of the stove so the cookies have some time to cool off before you plate them. Your friends had already gone through three batches of them and they practically begged you to make more. It was a nice feeling, almost rewarding in a way, knowing something you made was so loved by your friends. 

“‘m not talking about the cookies, doll,” there’s a bit of a slur in his cadence that catches your attention at the same time that your heart skips a beat at his words. You turn to him to see he’s staring at you with a dreamy smile and a twinkle in his eyes, propped up against the counter by his elbow. You frown at his unusual nonchalant demeanor. You’ve never seen him act this way before. 

Your head tilts slightly as you examine him a little closer. There’s a bit of a sway to his stance and his cheeks are tinted pink. “Bucky, are you drunk?” Almost immediately he shakes his head at your question, “No. I can't get drunk,” he replies with an obvious tone, and yet the pouty frown on his face tells a different story. 

“Right, you can’t…” you affirm, mulling it over for a moment,“Unless…did Thor give you some of his special Asgardian liquor?” You ask, stepping slightly closer to him, the apples of his cheeks getting rosier in response. 

“I took a shot. I started feeling funny and came here—felt safe,” he mutters that last part reluctantly, sharing something with you he wouldn’t if it weren’t for the alcohol in his system.

“In the kitchen?”

“With you.” 

Your amusement is replaced with a soft expression at his response. He most likely hasn’t felt the effects of alcohol in decades and a part of him doesn’t know how to cope with the resurfaced inhibitions. The fact that while feeling unwell his first instinct was to come looking for you—it made a warmth spread throughout you that could easily rival the heat of the oven.

You reach out to cup his cheek, soothing the flushed skin with your thumb. He instinctively leans into your touch, his eyes shining with a gentle vulnerability that causes your heart to squeeze in your chest. You and Bucky have always had a flirtatious friendship for as long as you can remember, but it's never gone past that. Seeing him so openly affectionate with you stirs emotions deep within you that you aren’t sure you’re ready to bring to the surface.

“I don’t think the alcohol is going to stay in your system for long, Buck. How about we do this…you wait for me here while I go out and serve the cookies I baked,” his eyes widen slightly and you can tell he wants to protest until you add, “I’ll bring back some hot chocolate for us to share and we can enjoy it along with some cookies while we wait for that liquor in your system to wear off. How does that sound?” You suggest softly and you can see the way he thinks it through before he agrees with a nod.

He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as you plate a few dozen cookies on decorative plates, leaving a handful behind for you and Bucky to share. You make sure to quickly take them out to your friends and serve up two piping hot mugs of hot chocolate before making it back to the kitchen in no time. 

When you meet back with Bucky you find him sitting on the counter where he watches his legs as he swings them lazily to and fro. You observe him fondly for a moment longer than necessary. Trying to commit to memory how carefree and unguarded he is at this moment. When he notices you his face lights up in a way that makes you feel like the most precious person on earth. 

“Here, as promised,” you hand him a mug of hot chocolate which he takes eagerly—too eagerly—as he immediately goes for a sip of it. Before he can, however, you stop him, placing your hand as a barrier between his lips and the mug. His mouth ends up pressed into your palm, and you ignore the heat that finds its way to your face at the softness of his lips brushing against your skin.

“Bucky, it's scalding hot! You’ll burn yourself! Wait until it cools down a bit, please.”

“It’s not gonna burn me, doll. I’m a super soldier. Watch—”

“Bucky!” 

You use the cookies as leverage to coax Bucky into waiting for the hot chocolate to cool down before he drinks any of it. For the next hour or so, you enjoy each other's company. Between the sweet treats and the lighthearted conversations, time flies by in a heartbeat. 

Then, while in the middle of a discussion over your last mission, Bucky does something that completely takes you by surprise in the best way possible—he kisses you. It’s short, but profound in the way he pours everything into it. Every flirtation you ever questioned could mean something more was proven here with this kiss, that it had meant so much more for more than just you. 

You’re speechless when he pulls away beaming as if his heart might burst.

“Looks like I was right.” 

“Huh?”

“I asked myself what was sweeter. You or the cookies. I knew it'd be you,” he states as a matter of fact, drinking up the way his words affect you as much as the kiss had. There’s a part of you that doesn’t believe him, but it's not because of him, but more so because you think you must be dreaming. 

“That's the liquor talking.”

“I've sobered up a while ago, doll.”

You search his eyes for the truth of it all and you find it. This is real. This isn’t a dream. And the yearning that burns bright in his eyes is one you know all too well. It’s the same one reflecting in your eyes as your gazes lock on one another.

“I still think the cookies are sweeter,” you whisper, your eyes shining with a playful challenge despite the way your heart races in your chest with anticipation. He catches on, licking his lips as his flesh hand snakes its way to the back of your head to cradle it gently.

“‘m gonna prove you wrong, doll,” he declares in a huskier tone as he pulls you in for another kiss. And that night, by the warmth of the oven, Bucky continues to kiss you until he successfully proves you wrong. 

[pinkiebieberpie]

oh i'm so very normal about this---- inspired by this tweet; can we just talk about prince!bucky???? it's like modern day prince, he is so close to the throne that he has to attend all sorts of different events - fancy suits, small talk with important people and at one of those parties he met y/n and oh my god- that's the most charming man you've ever met. "you don't really live in a castle, right? that's not a thing in 2025..." "well, actually..." *smirk* AND YOU WOULD JUST DIE FOR THAT SMIRK !! one night stands are not very royal way to live but damn, waking up the next morning in his huge bed in a fuckin castle??? with bucky peacefully sleeping next to you??? hair all fluffy and messy??? someone sedate me.

masterlists

[nostarfights]

I Wish You Would

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X blackwidow!fem!Reader

Summary: After months of falling for each other, you and Bucky are finally forced to face your feelings.

Warnings: Mentions of the reader and Bucky’s traumatizing pasts, enemies to lovers, arguing, kissing and a few uses of y/n.

Word Count: 2.3K

a/n: lol this kinda sucks but i hope y’all like it anyway :) happy thunderbolts trailer release day!

the gif below does not belong to me

Even after the Red Room destroyed every bit of your personality, you still felt that you were easy to get along with. Even after you slowly became yourself again and learned what it meant to be somewhat normal in your new position as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, repaying your debts to society, you still remained kind to those who deserved it. You got along with everyone, except for Bucky.

He always knew exactly how to push your buttons and no matter how much you pushed his buttons, the feelings you had for him never truly went away. You hated these feelings as much as you seemed to hate him, you felt weak for falling in love with him. Especially after all of your time in the Red Room where the idea that you were a weapon not a normal person who did and felt normal things was drilled into your head, along with many other things. And although you were now free, that idea that falling in love made you weak still lingered in your head. 

But luckily enough for you, it was easy to avoid Bucky around the tower due to the fact that Fury had only paired the two of you up once since you became a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and later an Avenger two years ago. That exact mission being the one that sparked your feelings for Buck as well as the hatred for these feelings and yourself for feeling them.

You wished that you could stop loving Bucky and go on with your life, but it was impossible. It was as if he had dug himself into your heart and refused to leave, you could never get him off of your mind. No matter how many dates you went on in an attempt to forget him, Bucky always crawled back into your mind. 

So, as a way of dealing with your feelings, you were never kind to Bucky like you were to any other member of the Avengers, arguing with him any chance you got. And deep down, you knew how immature this was but in your mind it was better to be angry at Bucky than in love with him.

Meanwhile, Bucky was going through something quite similar. Given your similar pasts, Bucky was also made to feel as if he was nothing more than a weapon and even though he had been free longer than you had, he still struggled to lead a “normal” life. Whatever that meant. And just like you, he too fell in love with you on that very first mission you went on together. So, he took every bit of anger he had in him out on you, arguing with you anytime the two of you interacted or you even glanced at him.

During his time as the Winter Soldier, Bucky had forgotten how to do a lot of things. He forgot how to love, how to be a person not a weapon, how to deal with feelings that weren’t anger or rage and how to let his guard down around people he knew he could trust. Now that Bucky was a free man and still adjusting to his freedom day by day, the realization that he had fallen in love with you terrified him.

He didn’t know how to love anymore, after all that was something he hadn’t done since before HYDRA had kidnapped him decades ago.

As much as he hated these feelings, he hated you even more for causing him to fall in love with you. He knew that he was at fault for falling in love with you but at times, he felt as if it was your fault due to the fact that aside from Steve, he felt like you were the only other person who understood what he had gone through for years. He opened himself up to you during that first mission, inevitably regretting it after he fell for you. So, as another way of dealing with his feelings, Bucky requested that both Fury and Tony never put you on another mission with him again and they agreed.

He truly could not stand to be around you as long as he was still in love with you.

Ignoring each other and arguing when you did have to interact worked well enough for both of you and was in a way making it easier to deal with the strong feelings of love you felt. That was until Tony called the two of you into his office one day to tell you that you had been assigned to go on a mission together, immediately causing both of you to start to argue.

“What?! Is no one else available for this mission? I don’t want to spend a week alone with him!” you said to Tony, already fuming over the idea of having to spend that much time alone with the man you were head over heels in love with. Tony sighed then spoke again, “No, (y/n), no one else is available. You two are just going to have to learn to get along.” he said, an annoyed look still present on his face. 

“Are you sure I can’t just do this mission alone? Let’s not forget (y/n) over here “accidentally” abandoned Clint during her last mission.” Bucky argued as you frowned, reminding you of your bad habit of running off on your own during missions because of how used to working alone you had been after becoming a Widow. “No, you have to do it together and that’s final. I don’t have time for any more of your arguing.” Tony fired back, tired of you and Bucky being at each other’s throats all the time. 

“Fine!” you both said in unison before promptly storming out of Tony’s office in opposite directions.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Bucky were now three days into the mission and still living in the safehouse that was in the middle of the woods. Awaiting for the man you were sent to catch to come back to this area he supposedly frequented–according to a tip you had received–before their plans to level New York with a bomb was complete. 

While you were there the two of you took turns surveying the area and watching out for this guy. One of you would sleep during the night while the other kept watch and during the day whoever stayed up all night would take a nap until the early afternoon then go to their hiding place.

And unsurprisingly, you and Bucky had argued multiple times everyday since you arrived. But you had to admit, you were beginning to grow tired of the constant arguing. Maybe being in love wasn’t such a bad thing? After all, you had seen how healthy Pepper and Tony’s relationship was and the fact that their love for one another never weakened either of them. They seemed stronger with each other by their side. 

As you and Bucky surveyed the area in your hiding spots up in the trees, these thoughts helped you come to terms with the fact that you were in love with Bucky and that was okay. Being in love with him was now no longer a bad thing to you and now that you felt this way after fully processing your feelings, you promised yourself that you were going to be a lot nicer to Bucky, like you should have been all along. He deserved more kindness in his life and you felt like a fool for letting your feelings and hatred for them blind you.

“Hey! Pay attention!” Bucky shouted at you through the walkie talkie attached to your belt after he had seen you lower your binoculars while you were lost in thought. “Sorry.” you quietly said back before you then raised your binoculars back up to your face, now back in the present instead of letting your mind race.

The lack of any sort of insult or argument in your response confused Bucky. The two of you had argued almost everyday for the past two years and now you suddenly weren’t? It didn’t make sense at all to Bucky. And in this moment, Bucky began to wonder if the reason for your mean behavior was the same as his.

Thoughts of the possibility of you loving him back raced through his mind. And as these thoughts went through his head, Bucky also began to wonder what he was going to do. But for the time being, he decided that the least he could do was willingly show you the kinder side of his personality like he had two years ago.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night once the sun had gone down and you were sure that there was no chance of the guy you were looking for appearing while you went back to the safe house, you both climbed down from your hiding spots in the trees and started to walk back, neither of you saying a single word the entire time.

“Hey, what’s up with you today? We haven’t argued at all.” Bucky said as he stopped you near the front door to the safehouse, making you tempted to fire back with a rude response like you usually did but you remained calm. “Nothing, I’m fine. I just don't feel like arguing with you anymore. Y’know?” you simply said while you started to walk again and entered the house. This response confused Bucky even more. Maybe you did actually love him? “Yeah, I guess.” he sheepishly replied as he followed you, the house still noticeably cold even with the heat on.

As for the rest of the night, it was your turn to eat a quick dinner, shower and go to sleep while Bucky kept watch. It took you a while to fall asleep but once you did, you were thrown into nightmare after nightmare, each one worse than the last.

But the one that your brain decided to focus on the longest reminded you of every bit of trauma you had experienced in the Red Room. In this nightmare, you were back in the Red Room and the speakers in there blared the sound of Dreykov’s voice screaming that you were a weak little girl and no one was coming to save you over and over again while you were forced to fight to the death the girls who had been in the program with you while red lights flashed, almost completely blinding you.

Meanwhile, the sound of your screams and thrashing coming from the bedroom as you went through this horrible nightmare alerted Bucky and he rushed over to you right away, turning the lights on as he entered the room. The second he reached you, he placed his hands on your shoulders as he sat next to you on the bed and shook you awake, “(Y/N)!” he shouted a few times as he continued to try to wake you up. And luckily you quickly awoke within one minute after Bucky had initially entered the room, freeing you–for now–from the trauma that has taunted you for years.

“Bucky!” you called out once you opened your eyes and saw him there, tackling him in a hug the second you were fully conscious. In this moment as you hugged a now shocked Bucky, you felt extremely glad that it was just a dream and you weren’t back there, fighting for your life. You were safe and in the arms of the man you loved.

“It’s okay, doll. You’re safe, I’m here.” he murmured into your ear as he held you close and slowly rocked you back and forth, one hand on the back of your head while his other arm was wrapped around your body.

The sound of that nickname as well as his touch ignited something in you, causing you to feel the need to tell him how you felt immediately as your cheeks blushed and goosebumps appeared on your arms. 

“There’s something I need to tell you. I love you Bucky, that’s why I‘ve always been so mean to you. I was a fool and couldn’t deal with the fact that I had fallen in love with someone after being told for years that falling in love was a sign of weakness and not something meant for me. But I’ve realized that I’m not weak for loving you.” you quickly explained once you had left Bucky’s arms, not having the strength to hold back your feelings for another second.

As soon as Bucky heard these words leave your lips, a feeling of relief washed over him and he realized that he wasn’t weak either for loving you. Hearing this admission from you healed him in a way and reminded him that he wasn’t the emotionless monster HYDRA had turned him into anymore. 

Not feeling the need to say another word in this moment, Bucky softly grabbed your face in both of his warm hands and passionately kissed you, hoping that this kiss conveyed to you how he felt. “We’re so stupid,” he said with a laugh once he had pulled away from your lips, your face slowly leaving his hands, “I love you too and I have since that first mission we ever went on together. I’m sorry I was so mean, I shouldn’t have taken the anger I was feeling out on you. You helped me learn how to love again, I need you to know that.” he replied, explaining himself as he looked into your eyes. “I’m sorry too, Buck.” you said before you then swiftly pulled him in for another kiss.

“Be my girl, doll, please.” Bucky begged once your lips separated moments later. “I always have been.” you whispered to him as you gazed back into his eyes, prompting both of you to tightly hug each other once more, cheeks blushing.

NAVIGATION

[deliciousangelfestival]

Change Of Heart - 5 (Edited ver.)

Character: Bucky x Female! Reader

Theme: Angst, tragedy, romance.

Summary: The interviewer asked her a provocative question:

“If you were offered a million dollars, would you leave your partner?”

Without hesitation, she replied with a smirk, “Give me one dollar, and I’ll leave him this second.”

True to her word, she walked away, leaving the man stunned and searching for answers. Now, he’s desperately trying to find her, grappling with the haunting question—why would she leave him so easily?

And is there more to her departure than a single dollar could ever explain?

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

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

Bucky stood near the dock, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat. The waves lapped gently against the wooden posts, a rhythmic sound that did little to soothe the restlessness inside him. The sky had begun to darken, shades of deep blue swallowing the last traces of daylight.

"Sir, it's getting dark," his secretary reminded him softly, standing a few steps behind.

Bucky didn't respond immediately. Instead, he exhaled, his breath visible in the cold air. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, "Did your parents divorce?"

The secretary blinked at the sudden question. "No, sir. But my sister did. She divorced her first husband."

Bucky hummed, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the ocean stretched endlessly. "Was it the right choice?"

"I think so," the secretary admitted. "She smiles more with her second husband. He was divorced too. Somehow, they complete each other. It’s like they both learned from their past mistakes."

Bucky finally turned to look at him. "How long have they been together now?"

"Five years."

Silence settled between them. Bucky lowered his gaze, staring at the ground as if lost in thought. His parents divorced when he was young. His father changed wives like the seasons, to where Bucky had lost count of how many stepmothers he'd had. And his mother—she had become a well-known rich cougar, the kind who made headlines.

When two broken people come together, they begin to heal. But what happened between him and you... something still hurts deep down. Though both of you completed each other, seeing you leave felt like it wasn’t enough.

Bucky had spent years running from his past, avoiding the feelings he buried deep within himself. He'd been afraid of truly connecting, terrified that giving in to love would mean vulnerability—and he’d never allowed himself to be vulnerable. But with you, something changed.

He started to open up, piece by piece. He had found solace in your presence, a kind of comfort he never thought he’d experience. You made him feel like maybe it was okay to be human.

But even as the wounds began to heal, a part of him remained fractured. The scars weren’t completely gone. And as he watched you walk away, that deep-seated fear—of losing someone, of being left behind—came rushing back. He realized he wasn’t as whole as he thought he was.

Without another word, Bucky pulled out his phone. His fingers hovered over the screen momentarily before he made the call. He held the device to his ear and started walking, his steps slow and aimless as he paced along the dimly lit dock. A few streetlights flickered, casting long shadows over the worn planks beneath his feet.

The therapist answered after a few rings.

"My advice?" The voice on the other end was calm. "Let her go. Don't stop her. If she wants to come back, she will."

Bucky’s jaw clenched. His grip on the phone tightened. He didn’t agree.

"Do you have any sexual desire toward her?"

"No," he answered without hesitation.

"Do you feel safe when you're around her?"

"...Yes."

"Do you want to come home faster when you know she's waiting there?"

Bucky exhaled through his nose. "Yes."

The therapist paused before asking the last question.

"Do you have feelings for her?"

This time, Bucky hesitated. His lips parted, but the words didn't come as easily. "...No." But his voice lacked conviction.

The therapist remained silent for a beat before finally speaking.

"It will grow on you. Just wait and see."

Bucky lowered the phone, staring at the dark waters ahead. The wind picked up, tousling his hair, but he barely noticed. His chest felt tight, the answer lingering in his mind.

Had he really meant it?

The Next Day

Bucky followed you.

He shouldn’t have, but he did.

He was already waiting by the dock when you returned from your scuba diving lesson. You looked different—lighter, freer. The usual quiet presence he was familiar with had been replaced by someone more expressive, more alive. You laughed while talking to strangers, engaging with them in a way he had never seen before. When you were with him, you spoke to his colleagues, sure, but never like this. With them, it was polite conversation, surface-level. But now? You were glowing.

And Bucky didn't know how to feel about that.

You spotted him standing near the railing, and your smile faltered for just a second before returning. Surprise flickered in your eyes, but there was something else too—relief, maybe.

"You're still here," you said, your voice carrying a mix of disbelief and quiet gladness.

Bucky was about to respond, but then his gaze caught on you peeling off your wetsuit.

He froze.

It wasn’t like you were undressing provocatively—you were simply taking off your gear. But in the two years you'd been together, neither of you had ever seen the other completely bare. You had shared a home, a bed even, but always with an unspoken distance.

His throat went dry, and he forced himself to turn away, his jaw tightening.

Bucky had seen countless women undress before, but this—this was different. This was you. And it was as if some part of his brain refused to process it. He waited in silence, staring at the dark water until he heard your footsteps approaching.

You had changed into dry clothes and now stood beside him, leaning against the dock railing.

“I guess Grandpa won’t allow you to come home,” you said.

Bucky let out a dry chuckle. “How did you know?”

“Just a hunch.”

He exhaled sharply, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You’re right. But I guess… I failed. You don’t want to come back.”

“Not yet.”

Silence. The waves rolled in and out, filling the space between you.

You looked out at the sea, your expression unreadable. Then, as if speaking more to yourself than to him, you asked, “Do you ever wonder why we’re compatible?”

It was a good question. Because in truth, on paper, you shouldn’t be.

Most marriage contracts like yours didn’t last. Some couples couldn’t even stand each other for the duration of their agreement. They broke it off before the ink had dried.

You exhaled through your nose, then said with a smirk, “Because both of us are ambitious as fuck.”

Bucky scoffed. He almost laughed, but he held it in, shaking his head instead.

Then, in a quieter voice, he asked, “If you love me, why are you leaving?”

You turned your head to look at him. Your eyes were softer now, but firm, steady.

“Bucky, I know you’re not ready for this. And I won’t push you. You need to figure it out yourself.”

His chest tightened.

He had spent years figuring himself out. Years battling the demons that kept him tethered to his past. But had he actually moved forward?

“I used this marriage contract to get money,” you admitted. “To have a higher status than my father. Feeling superior to him gave me satisfaction.”

Bucky swallowed hard. He understood that. He understood it too well.

He had never wanted to be in a relationship—not out of fear, but as an act of rebellion. His parents' marriage had been a disaster, a revolving door of broken vows and replacements. His father cycled through wives like a man cycling through business investments. His mother had responded by becoming one of the most infamous rich cougars in town, collecting younger lovers as if to prove something to the world.

Love, as far as Bucky had seen, was nothing more than a transaction.

He had despised it.

But now, standing here, he wasn’t so sure.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “So this is goodbye, then?”

“For now,” you said, your voice gentle. “I just want to do what I’ve been holding back. I want to grow up.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at that. “What do you mean? We’re already in our thirties.”

You smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile. It was knowing, understanding.

“I mean growing up from the trauma.” Your voice softened. “Bucky, both of us were stuck as kids because of what happened to us. Our pasts kept us frozen in time. But I don’t want to stay stuck anymore. I want to move forward. I want to leave the trauma behind.”

Bucky didn’t say anything. He couldn't.

“The reason I didn’t come back,” you continued, “is because I still love you. And that terrifies me. I’m running away because I can’t be near you without feeling everything too much.”

Bucky sucked in a slow breath.

This was the first time anyone had ever said those words to him like this—with honesty, with vulnerability. It was the first time he had ever received a love confession that wasn’t transactional, that wasn’t tied to expectations.

And he didn’t know what to do with it.

You stepped back. “I hope that the next time we meet, everything will be different.”

Bucky watched as you walked away, disappearing into the crowd. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe for a long moment. Then, slowly, he let out a shaky exhale.

Something was shifting inside him, something he didn’t have a name for. It wasn’t just loss. It wasn’t just regret.

It was something deeper.

A few moments later, he pulled out his phone and dialed his therapist.

When the call connected, his voice came out rough, almost reluctant.

“I think I’m starting to have… sexual desires toward her.”

There was silence on the other end.

Then, finally, his therapist sighed.

“Well, Bucky,” they said, “it looks like you’re finally catching up to your emotions.”

He decided to leave you alone, but that didn’t mean he stopped caring. No matter what, you had been there for him for two years. Marriage contract or not, you left a lasting impression on his life.

When he returned, his grandfather was waiting for him, clearly hoping you would step off the plane with Bucky.

When he saw Bucky coming down alone, Tom clicked his tongue. “You’re an idiot.”

Bucky sighed. “Give her time. She’ll be back.” Even though he's not sure when you'll be back.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

One Year Later

The café inside the park was quiet, tucked away between tall trees and winding pathways. The morning sun filtered through the leaves, casting dappled light onto the wooden tables.

Bucky sat alone, a tablet in one hand, a coffee cup in the other. He scrolled through reports, half-reading, half-listening to the sounds around him—the soft chatter of other patrons, the occasional bark of a dog, the rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Then, a voice behind him made him nearly drop his tablet.

“I see you’re still a workaholic.”

His heart clenched. He knew that voice.

Slowly, he turned around—and there you were.

You stood before him, looking different yet familiar. Your skin was sun-kissed, your hair slightly lighter, and your presence felt… freer. There was an ease in your posture, a confidence in your stance that hadn’t been there before.

For a moment, Bucky just stared, as if making sure you were real. Then, a small smile tugged at his lips.

“I don’t work as much as I used to,” he admitted.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking as you pulled out a chair and sat across from him. “Really? Who’s been keeping up with all your work, then?”

“My parents.”

That made you pause. “Your parents?”

He nodded, setting down his tablet. “Yeah. I finally faced it. The whole mess.”

And it had been a mess. For years, he had avoided confronting the real cause of his fears—his childhood. He thought that refusing to engage in relationships was an act of defiance, proof that he had broken free from his parents' toxic cycle. But in reality, he had been trapped just like them. Stuck in the same story, just playing a different role.

It wasn’t fair.

They had lived their lives—moving on, getting remarried, collecting younger lovers, burning through money—while he had been the one frozen in time, afraid to take a single step forward.

So he had done something drastic.

He had cut them off.

No more allowances, no more endless funds. Their luxurious lifestyles had been fueled by company profits, and Bucky had put an end to it.

“This company is not a charity,” he had told them. “You’ve used its assets to fund your lifestyles for too long. If I let this continue, we’ll go down in history as the first corporation to bankrupt itself paying alimony.”

His father had been furious. His mother had scoffed. But in the end, they had no choice. They had to start working.

They had been terrible parents. But, ironically, they turned out to be decent employees.

"Both of them have stopped acting childish," he said. His parents had also stopped playing the roles of sugar daddy and cougar. It turned out money was the solution.

Now, here he was, sitting across from the one person he had waited a year to see again.

"I fixed my relationship with my parents, especially my dad," you replied.

"That's good to hear," he responded.

After spending some time with your dad, you realized that without the rivalry, he's an easygoing person. You started contacting him daily.

“Why did you come back?” he asked, his voice quieter now. “Does this mean you don’t love me anymore?”

Your gaze softened. “No. I never stopped loving you.” You smiled, almost shyly. “I just had a feeling this time would be different.”

Bucky exhaled slowly, leaning back in his chair. “I see. So you’ve completed your self-discovery?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

The conversation between you flowed effortlessly, lighter than it had ever been. You talked about your travels, the people you had met, and the experiences that had changed you. Bucky listened, occasionally throwing in a sarcastic remark or a teasing comment, making you laugh. It felt easy—natural.

Then, as if it were nothing, you casually said, “I broke my leg climbing down a mountain.”

“What?!” His eyes widened, panic flashing through them.

You laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m fine. Some nuns from a nearby chapel helped me. They took care of me for a month.”

Bucky frowned, his mind racing. So that’s why you didn’t post an update for a month.

You nodded. “Yeah. They prayed for me.” Then, after a pause, you admitted, “I’ve never prayed before. But I started to. Admitting my anger, my sins… it made the weight feel lighter. I guess I’m sharing my burdens with God now.” You studied his reaction carefully. “Do you think I’ve turned into a religious freak?”

Bucky shook his head. “No. As long as you found peace.”

Silence settled between you, but it was a comfortable one.

Eventually, he cleared his throat. “Do you want something to drink?”

You grinned. “Yes.”

“Caramel Macchiato, hot, less sugar… right?”

You blinked, then gave him a thumbs-up. He smirked before getting up and heading toward the cashier.

When he returned, he placed the coffee in front of you, watching as you took a small sip.

Then you said, “On my way here, I passed by a cinema playing Interstellar.”

Bucky’s eyes flickered with interest. That was his favorite movie—the one he always watched when he had time alone.

“Really?”

“You interested?” You pulled out two tickets and held them up.

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Let’s go.”

As you both walked side by side, he glanced at you.

“You know,” he said, “you could share your burdens with me too.”

You turned to him, your expression unreadable.

Was that… a proposal?

Bucky continued, his tone calm but firm. “We’ve known each other for two years. You left for one. And yet, you came back with the same feelings. And I waited a year for you to come back.”

Your heart pounded.

This time, it wasn’t just a contract. It wasn’t a transaction.

It was something real. Something earned.

And for the first time, you weren’t afraid of it.

This time, there was a difference between them.

Before, they had been trapped—chained to the past, repeating old patterns, clinging to wounds that refused to heal. They had mistaken their pain for identity, their fears for inevitability.

But now, they had changed.

Not because time had passed, but because they had made the choice to move forward.

They had faced their demons, made peace with their scars, and learned to let go. Bucky was no longer a man protesting love out of spite. And you were no longer someone running away to find yourself.

You had both found your own way—separately.

And yet, in the end, that path had led you back to each other.

-The End-

Epilogue:

Bucky suddenly remembered something. “I should call Grandpa to let him know you’re back.”

You chuckled. “Oh, I already met him when I landed. That’s how I knew where to find you.”

Bucky smiled and shook his head. Even after a year, you still cared about Tom.

After watching the movie, he will take you to meet Tom. His grandpa will welcome you with open arms and finally stop calling him an "idiot."

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[mugglebornmarvelite]

Bucky’s Quiet Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Reader

Summary: After a painful breakup, Bucky offers quiet comfort and unconditional care, showing you a love that's patient and gentle. He mends the ache in your chest and reminds you that you deserve so much more.

Word Count: Roughly 1.3k 

Warnings: A smidge of angst (super tiny, barely there), references to an emotionally draining relationship, toxic relationship dynamics, obviously fluff (because who I am without it?), thoughts of self-worth, slow-burn.

Author's Note: Based on this request + I worked in some Valentine's Day things and a lil poem just because :)

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Divider by: @strangergraphics 

Love is not always loud,

Not fiery, sharp, or proud,

The Tower was quiet when you got back. 

Your eyes were downcast, the weight of tonight, the last year, weighing on you so heavily that you wanted to crawl into a hole.

You didn’t want to talk to anyone immediately; your mind was consumed with flashes of every rough patch, fight, and the breakup itself tonight. The words that echoed from your ex’s mouth were like a cruel stab to the heart:

“You always made things so complicated. I’m not the one with the problem here; you are. You were always so needy, always wanting more. I’m actually relieved it’s over. You were ruining me. I’m sure you’ll find someone else who can tolerate you. I’m just better off without all your drama.”

You had poured your heart into a relationship that never seemed to give back, where your love was only met with the bare minimum effort. You were always left wanting, always feeling like there was something more to give, but he couldn’t wouldn’t supply it.

And the icing on the cake, or in this case, salt on the wound: you found out that he had been seeing someone else the day before Valentine’s Day, 

The betrayal stung, but there was also a deep sadness. 

You knew you deserved more, but a part of you kept hoping he’d see you, really see you. You wanted to be enough. You craved his validation, his attention, his touch, his love.

But that never came. 

He drained your happiness.

Till you felt hollow.

It doesn’t need to shout its name,

Or spark an endless, burning flame.

When Bucky saw you standing there, looking small and broken, his chest ached. He knew. He always knew. 

His deep blue eyes were the ones that had always seemed to understand you, even when you couldn't quite articulate how you were feeling. 

And right now? 

You couldn’t describe how you were feeling. 

Exhausted? 

Shittty? 

Overwhelmed? 

All of the above could be a more than adequate description.

You didn't even have to look up to know Bucky was there. His presence, that unspoken comfort, was enough. He'd been waiting for you. You could feel it, feel him, even before you saw him.

Bucky had always been the one who understood when things were left unsaid. You could talk to him for hours or simply sit silently; it would always feel like home. But tonight? Your heart was broken tonight, and nothing would ever feel like home again for a while.

You felt the sting of tears behind your eyes as you walked toward him. You didn’t try to hide that your eyes were glossed over or that you were visibly tired.

He stood up from the couch and was pulling you into his strong arms before you could even say a word. 

You buried your face into his sweater, letting the tears fall. His embrace was the first real comfort you’d had all day, and you crumbled into him. The last week had been a blur of fights, loneliness, and betrayal. Your ex had been giving you the bare minimum for months, only fulfilling the things that kept the relationship afloat. 

Bucky had seen the way you smiled for him, how you tried to fill the empty space in your relationship with kindness, how you were always the one to bend, to give.

And it killed him.

"I’m so sorry, sweetheart," Bucky’s warm breath against your hair as he held you close, pressing his lips to your head. "I’m so sorry that happened to you."

You let out a shaky breath, nodding, unable to form words. 

Bucky’s arms around you felt like the safest place you’d ever been, and it took everything not to collapse into him completely.

"You’re safe here," Bucky said softly. "Don’t stress this. I’ll be here. Always."

You nodded again, pulling away slightly to look up at his face. His eyes softened at the sight of you. You could see the worry in them, the concern.

"I’m sorry," you whispered. "I just...I don’t know what is what anymore. I don’t what to do with myself."

Bucky wiped a stray tear from your cheek, his thumb brushing over the softness of your skin. His touch was gentle and caring. He was always so careful with you, treating you as though you were the most precious thing in the world. But right now, you felt broken, like you weren’t worthy of the love he offered so freely.

"You’re gonna be okay," he murmured as he gently squeezed you. "You’ve been through something really fucking tough, but you’re not alone, okay?"

Bucky led you to the couch and you sighed, sinking into the furniture. He searched for the softest blanket he could find, wrapping it around your shoulders. He just sat beside you, as you tried to find your grounding. A gentle hand continually stroked your hair as you melted into him. His quiet presence like soothing balm to your weary soul. 

Bucky had always known how to give you the needed space without making you feel alone.

You fell asleep eventually, comforted by the feeling of his presence beside you.

Some love is quiet, soft, and true,

And in that peace, you’ll start anew.

The next day, Bucky woke up with an idea. He had kicked everyone out of the Tower in the afternoon, telling them he had some private things to handle. 

You didn’t know what he had planned, but when you walked into the living room later that evening, your heart fluttered with surprise.

The lights were dimmed. The room was now softly lit with candles and the faint glow of fairy lights. A table was set for two with flowers arranged in a vase in the center: tulips, your favorite. There was no grand display, no flashy gestures, just the kind of thoughtful simplicity that spoke volumes.

Bucky was waiting by the table, dressed in a way that was casual but put together, a white shirt and dark slacks that made him look effortlessly handsome.

"You didn’t have to do all this," you whispered. 

He gave a small, amused smile.

"Yeah, I did," he said. "You deserve to feel special, especially today."

Bucky guided you to the seat, pulling out the chair for you. His eyes were soft, full of affection and care. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t pushing. He was just there, present.

The meal was simple, but there was love in every bite. He had taken the time to make it, and the care was evident in how he plated it, in the small details that made you feel seen.

"You’ve been through a lot, and you deserve better," he said softly, kissing your forehead as you both sat on the couch.

"You already give me more than anyone else ever did." The words escaped before you could think, and you met his gaze. His smile was gentle, his eyes filled with a quiet intensity that made your stpmach flip.

Bucky took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over your skin, grounding you in the moment. There was no rush, no expectations. Just him. His gentle love, his patience, his presence.

He leaned in, brushing his lips against your forehead once more, his breath warm against your skin. "No one’s going to hurt you again. I’m not going anywhere, okay?"

You nodded.

His lips met yours in a soft, gentle kiss that told you everything: You deserved to be treated with the kindness, respect, and tenderness you’d been craving. You don’t have to beg or fight for it.

And for the first time in a long time, you believed it.

Not loud, not brash, but always there,

A love that shows its tender care.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

Tags: @princess-lil-spidey @sapphirebarnes @mgchaser @sparklystarsandstrawberries @arcadia-smith @rnurse-kole @juliebluehufflepuff @sailorsenshiuranep @alexxavicry @ficcharsimp @winchestert101 @thatesqcrush @bamitzzsam @grubler @peaches1958 @helen-2003 @ickearmn

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Much love x

- Maeve

[buck-star]

Shattering glass

Bucky gets into a fight with John on the ice. Luckily, you’re there to fix his injuries and offer him a lot of much needed kisses.

Pairing: Collegr!HockeyCaptain!Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x College!Girlfriend!Reader

Wordcount: 2.295 Words

Warnings/Tags: Established relationship, college au, ex-boyfriend John Walker, fight on the ice, bruises, mention of blood, mention of cleaning wounds, language, talking about sex/nudity, kissing, fluff, petnames [Steady, Pengu]

Authors Note: This work is a “What if: Bucky as Hockey Player” after “Summer of love”. While he’s actually a football captain, for this he turned into a Hockey Captain. If you have any asks about these two feel free! Shout out to @elixirfromthestars for helping to come up with the idea and help with the nicknames. Divider made by me.

Events: Bucky Boy Bingo [N3 | Free Space | @buckyboybingo], Seasonal Delights Bingo: Types of love [B3 | Covering their face with their hands from being flustered | @seasonaldelightsbingo]

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Endless love Collection

“Fuckin’ idiot!” Bucky groans loudly when John kicks his hockey stick into the back of Bucky’s legs. The brunette immediately turns to the rival, his eyes narrowing underneath his helmet, and he spits out the protection for his teeth. “Dickhead, I’m talking to ya!”

The other man slides over the ice, paying no attention to the angry man. Bucky huffs, shaking off his gloves and basically running after the other with his ice skates. His hockey stick lands somewhere on the ice as well.

“John fuckin’ Walker, you fuckin’ whore. I’m talking to ya, so don’t dare to ignore me like the little bitch ya are,” Bucky shouts after him. His voice is rough and filled with anger. He’s shouting loudly, but his words are only muffled behind the ice ring — for you not audible.

However, you don’t need to hear him to know what he’s saying. Bucky’s face is almost red from the boiling emotions; he’s never good with someone disrespecting another player — he already deserves an award for having the most fights on the ice. Though, you guess the brunette is even more mad at the other captain because he’s your ex-boyfriend, and showing him what he thinks about John is something Bucky does like a whole lot — every now and then.

“What do you want, Barnes,” John shouts back, frustrated. He’s turning on his skates, still moving away from Bucky but this time backwards while the other man is still gliding closer to him on the ice. “It was an accident; didn’t know you’re such a coward.”

“Excuse ya,” Bucky says, his voice low when he tilts his head to the side. John grins through the helmet, spitting out the protection in his mouth. “What did ya just say?”

“I said I didn’t know you’re such a baby that you would cry when someone hit you with a stick. Did she turn you into a little crybaby?” John laughs. He is facing the brunette, his eyes locked with the other man’s eyes while Bucky speeds up and crashes the man into the edge of the ice rink.

A loud noise of shattering glass erupts in the hall, and loud gasps are audible when Bucky pushes John with such a force into the edge of the ice rink that he breaks the glass of it.

Bucky chuckles low in his throat when he pulls back slightly, just to ram his shoulder back into the other man’s ribs. “Yeah, what did ya say about my girl, huh?”

“Fuck you,” John spits into Bucky’s face, grinning as the brunette wipes his helmet off his head to run his arm over his face. With a chuckle, John pushes himself out of the glass and tackles Bucky with his shoulder to the side.

Your eyes widen when you see the growing annoyance in your boyfriend's blue eyes, his jaw clenching just like his fists as he sets a punch underneath John's chin and causes his head to fly back with a groan.

The blond-haired man catches himself slightly, at least enough for his fist to connect with Bucky’s cheekbone and underneath his eyes. The skin above his cheekbone breaks, leaving Bucky bleeding when John stumbles back. The brunette's eyes narrow further with a groan; he runs his fingers over his cheek, noticing the blood that’s stuck to his skin. Bucky tilts his head, a dangerous and cold smile forming on his lips, his usual soft blue eyes now dark.

“A baby, ya say? Cry baby because of my girl?” Bucky chuckles, moving closer to the other man, who backs away slightly. Everyone is watching the two of them, no one daring to move or even make a noise. “The only thing that makes me cry is my girl's perfect little cunt when it's gripping me so tightly that I feel like I'm fuckin’ for the first time. Know what I mean? Hugging my dick so perfectly when I fuck her slow and deep to make her feel every fuckin’ inch of my cock.”

John's eyes widen at Bucky’s words, his head turning to where you sit. Even his teammates look at you, while Bucky grins. Steve rolls his eyes, shooting you an apologetic look while you sit there with your mouth slightly parted and your eyes wide.

It's not just that Bucky said such a thing, because he can't know. But he comes up with something like that just to annoy John. Bucky and you haven't had sex yet, not that he didn't want to, but he doesn't pressure you, and you didn't feel comfortable enough after John. Plus, Bucky's soft kisses, the cuddles, and the showers together are so good too, and Bucky doesn’t mind that at all. He would wait forever to have sex with you, and even if you say you don't want it at all, he has two hands for good use, too.

“You- What the fuck?” John stumbles over his own words, shaking his head. He scrunches his nose in disgust about the pictures in his head of Bucky fucking you. You watch them intensely, feeling your cheeks heat up, especially when Bucky looks at you with a soft but also devilish grin at you. “You're a fucking disgusting— she doesn't even let you fuck her because she has that weird imagination of her perfect first time.”

Bucky laughs loudly, throwing his head back. If he didn't have that cold expression in his eyes, he would probably look amused. He reaches out to wrap one of his calloused hands around John's neck, pulling him flush against his broad chest. Bucky's fingers tighten around the other man's neck, and he glares at John.

“Looks like I made it special enough for her,” Bucky growls. You feel a lot of people staring at you, at least people who are able to understand their conversation. You hide yourself in Bucky's jersey, your cheeks heating up even more. John is saying the truth; you didn't sleep with him because you didn't want it to be a fuck without anything meaningful. While Bucky is lying about your sex life, he manages to make John angrier with his words.

Without another word, he throws John back into another glass of the ring around the ice. John groans, trying to get off, but Bucky's already on top of him, setting a punch to John’s chin and cheek. Just when Bucky is about to bring his fist down on John's nose, the man underneath him causes Bucky’s head to be thrown to the side and other bruises just above his head.

Only then, when both are bleeding and setting punch after punch, do the referees and coaches walk over to the two and try to get them off of one another. You get up slowly from your seat, walking over to the side where Bucky's team is sitting. Their eyes are on the scene between the shouting players while they are dragged in two directions off the ice.

“Idiotic asshole,” John shouts, earning a low, rough laugh from your boyfriend. Bucky's coach is talking to him, his arm wrapped around the hockey captain's shoulders while Bucky nods every once in a while and says something you can't understand.

Bucky smiles and grabs the side of the door that leads off the ice. His eyes move to the seat you were sitting on; a frown appears on his face when you're not there. You smile softly, noticing the way he lets his ocean blue orbs roam all the way from your seat to the booth where his teammates are sitting — and where you're standing next to.

“Steady,” Bucky grins at you, walking over with his ice skates still on. You lean your head back to look your boyfriend in the face. With his skates on, he's even bigger than usual. Bucky places both of his big hands on your waist and pulls you flush against him. “I fuckin’ kicked the jerks ass.”

“Mhm, but you’re bleeding, Pengu,” you mutter, letting your hands run up and down his broad chest. Bucky smirks, shrugging slightly before he lowers his head even more to kiss you. With a soft sigh and a shake of your head, you let him kiss you. Bucky’s lips are soft and warm against yours, a grin forming on his lips when you grumble in the kiss.

“You’re grumpy, Steady, aren’t you?” Bucky chuckles, pulling back slightly. You roll your eyes, earning a soft digging of his fingers into your sides until you squirm and giggle. “How about I clean it, huh?”

You nod, pushing him back and taking his calloused hand in yours to walk with him to the locker rooms. Your boyfriend looks at you with a soft, loving expression at you. His fingers are tightly interlaced with yours while he runs his thumb over the back of your hand.

You lead Bucky to the locker rooms, pushing him down on the bench in front of his locker before you rummage through it and look for the first aid kit every player has there. Bucky watches you with his intense blue eyes, smiling softly while he leans back a bit and spreads his legs.

“Have ya seen his expression? Walker was such a mad little bitch,” Bucky chuckles. You roll your eyes, giggling when you move to stand in front of him. You place the first aid kit in his hands and open it.

“You didn’t have to mention such information about our sex life. How do you even— we didn’t have sex; how did you come up with that, Pengu?” You ask, taking a wipe.

You inspect his injuries for a moment; the bruise above his eye is blue and swollen slightly, while the bruise underneath the same eye is swollen and the skin is ripped open. The blood is already dried, covering his cheek around the wound.

You wipe the pad over the bruises, cleaning off the blood. Bucky hisses slightly when you add a bit more pressure, causing a slight stinging feeling. You smile apologetically, kissing Bucky’s forehead.

His hands find their way back to your waist, gripping you tightly and digging his fingers into your soft flesh. “I’m just a man, Steady. My imagination is runnin’ wild sometimes, especially when ya are not wearing clothes.”

You feel your cheeks heat up under his intense gaze and his honest words. You place the wipe to the side and close the first aid kit again. Only then do you look him in the eyes again, locking yours with his.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours, Steady?” Bucky asks, placing the first aid kit to the side before he pulls you into his lap. With a giggle and a soft shriek, you straddle his lap. Bucky wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer toward him. He’s still keeping some space to be able to look at you.

“Do you ever… regret anything? I mean, because I don’t… because we haven’t had sex yet?” You whisper, searching Bucky’s blue orbs for every sign of a lie when he opens his mouth to answer you. But instead of a weird look or anything, he only shows you the softness and honesty he always shows you.

“No, Steady, I would never regret anything with ya because of some sex. Yeah, I get hard when we cuddle in the tub or naked sometimes, but that’s nothing bad. It’s just like ya getting wet, and I bet ya were dripping for me often already, huh?” Bucky teases, making you gasp. You lift your hands, covering your face with them before you lean against Bucky’s shoulder to hide further.

“PENGU!” You growl, squirming in his lap. Bucky laughs softly, knowing he’s right. But saying it out loud is something different than just thinking about it.

“Nothin’ to be ashamed about. But, anyway, no matter how hard I am for you or how much you’re dripping. As long as you don't say you want it, I can use my hand or just wait and take a shower,” Bucky explains; he knows that you’re smart enough to know it yourself. But it’s his way to assure you — and it does assure you. “I don’t regret anythin’ just because of some sex. I love you, not for your pussy, but for being the sweet, precious girl ya are — my girl.”

“I love you too, Pengu. And you kicked his ass so bad,” you smirk. Pushing yourself backward to grin at Bucky. He nods his head, a proud expression on his face when he thinks about the way he has beaten John. “But who’s gonna pay for the glass the two of you smashed?”

“The coach… the school? The team? They are allowed to tackle and fight during hockey games. They only step in once one is on the ground and the other throws himself on them. So they know that sometimes we break glass while we fight,” Bucky shrugs, pulling you closer. His breath is warm against your lips, and your heart skips a beat when he inches closer.

His tongue darts out, licking his lips before he captures your lips with his. His soft lips moving against yours, Bucky’s tongue sliding over your lips, but before you part your lips, the door to the locker rooms opens, and the voices of the other echo through the room.

“Bucky! That’s better than a porn here,” Sam laughs, looking at the two of you. You try to pull away, but Bucky keeps your lips pressed to his, deepening the kiss once more. You can imagine Sam rolling his eyes while Bucky grins against your lips and even makes you moan with his tongue twirling around yours in the most delicious way possible.

Taglist: @sergeantbarnessdoll @rogersbarber @loki-laufeyson68 @etherealdisneyvillainness @winterschildren8 @pono-pura-vida @kimmie113080 @sergeantbarnessdoll @sebastianstanisahotmf @mercurial-chuckles @holylulusworld @randomawesomeperson102 @looking1016 @multiversefanfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @iris-xoxo-juhu @fckedupandbeautiful @hisredheadedgoddess28 @casa-boiardi @blackhawkfanatic @mrsalexstan @thesarcasmqueen-22 @kandis-mom @peachy-satan00 @armystay89 @queen-honeybee-stories @alexxavicry @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men [tag yourself]

[nameless-ken]

Bucky Barnes Fic Recs Pt. 1 - Imagines/One-Shots

Want to highlight & share some of my favorite writers and their work in one post to be able to revisit! 🤎✨🕯️💫🌹🪐🍂😊🤎🥺

If anyone would rather not be apart of this list please let me know & I'll edit it.

@mugglebornmarvelite

Game Night

Teddy Bear Bucky

New Year, Still His Sunshine

A Snowstorm, a Grump and a Game

@bucky-bucket-barnes

When it all falls apart

@thebarneschronicles

Out of Depth, Into You

@arcadia-smith

He doesn't remember you but you stay

@darkredsugarcookie

The Pressure of His Lips

@urbaebarnes

Flowers

Be Mine

@xxstargirlx-x

“Cozy” Domestic Fluff

@downbadf0rficppl

Someone's there

@buckysfaveplum

Her weakness

@likeahorribledream

One simple touch

@the-winter-spider

I miss you, I'm sorry

I love you, I'm sorry

I can't lose you

Spin you around

@magical-reid

Little Things

@jobean12-blog

Hold my hand

Boom Clap

This is love

@justkending

It's just a papercut... (Drabble)

Pink or Violet? (Part two of "It's just a papercut..." Drabble)

@wkemeup

Purgatory

Little Lion Man

@chiacanwritesometimes

Everybody adores you, at least I do

@imtryingbuck

His Flower

@eternalnoble

Falling Slowly

@skaye44

New Year, New Boyfriend

Stranded at Christmas

Broke Down

@elixirfromthestars

By the Warmth of the Oven

Crossroads

Tulip

Boulevard Confessions

@aquaticmercy

Snow

Love in Full Bloom

All These Things I've Done

@kinanabinks

Special Girl

@imawreck

His

@brunchable

Golden Hour

How to Impress a 21st Century Girl

I Should Have Kissed You Longer

How's Retirement Bucky?

Come Back to Me

How I Met Your Father

@leascorner

Fake it Till You Make It

@navybrat817

Back Off, He's Mine

Sweet As a Berry

@anonymityisfunwriter

The Uptown Girl and The Brooklyn Boy

@world-of-aus

Hot Shot

I like looking at you

@drabblesandsnippets

Happy Birthday

@sunflowers-and-bucky

Sleepy

@deliciousangelfestival

He's a Killer

He's the Sweetest

@drewbarymore

Deny Me

@amethystarachnid

Bet

@http-shield

Daisies, I think

Honey, you're familiar

@xxchumanixx

Glimpses

@ofstarsandvibranium

Stuck in the moment

Don't mess with my girl

@humanwip

Surprise Costumes, Less Surprising Confessions

@flowersforbucky

Moth to a flame

Starry Eyed

@queen-of-the-avengers

Wrapped around your finger

Ride of your life

@sergeantbarnessdoll

Save the day

@buck-star

Heart sweater

@bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

Champagne Problems

Trick or Treat

Desperate

The Ultimatum | Pt. 2

Documentary Now

The Ballad of Love and Hate

@pellucid-constellations

Unexpected

Are you bored yet?

Faking it

@thevillainswhore

Loverboy

@embbarnes

Filthy Fingers

@winterarmyy

He Hates Me, Doesn't He

@ellemj

Blurred lines

@honeybunchesofbucky

Sunshine and plums

@writerlyhabits

Dinner for two

@coffeecatsandcandles

Sweet dreams

[andulina567]

So cute

blind date

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: convinced that bucky will never like you back, you agree to a blind date arranged for you to forget about him.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: fluff. two idiots pining over each other (i know, i know. i love the trope). blind dates (they honestly scare me). boundaries being crossed. not so gentleman of a blind date. protective & grumpy bucky (yes, that's a warning!). pet names such as doll. lowercase writing. not proofread.

notes: happy 500 followers to us! hehe. sorry it took long, i waited until i reached that milestone and we finally did! we're growing in our small delulu home, and i love it. <3 i hope you enjoy this one!

dividers by @cafekitsune

comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡

“come on! tell me more about this mystery guy.”

natasha plopped down the couch beside you while she held a pint of ice cream in her hand and a spoonful on its way to her mouth. you were talking about the blind date that sam arranged for you, and she hasn't stopped asking questions since you mentioned it.

“there's really nothing to tell besides that he's a guy looking for a date and that he's friends with sam. i'm actually surprised that sam set this all up, but i trust him, you know? maybe it'll be nice,” you answered, ignoring the fact that sam suggested this to help you get over your not-so-little crush on a super soldier.

your phone beeped, showing a message sent to you by your teammate. “speaking of the devil, sam just sent me the details but i'm really not sure if i should go. it doesn't feel right.”

“and leave the poor guy waiting? not happening." natasha stuck her spoon into her pint and set it down on the coffee table. “you feel that way because you like someone already, but nothing's going to happen if we'll sit here waiting. you're either giving this date a chance or ask bucky out. it's time you finally go out there and see someone. aren't you sick of us yet?"

“i'm quite sick of you, that's for sure.” you joked, having natasha as your room neighbour and basically your best friend. if you weren't spending your time sleeping in your room, you'd be spending it with her. “i just don't think i should be going on dates when i know i'm technically not emotionally available for others yet.”

“oh, you can't be sick of me. i'm great company." natasha replied confidently. “then why did you agree? we all know, besides barnes, that you've liked him for so long. plus, he's never been with anyone for ages. the two of you makes sense.”

you gnawed on your lower lip, hesitant to tell nat the reason why you agreed to this stupid date, but she was your best friend and also one hell of a spy to even try and hide it. “he told me that he found someone similar to bucky and that i might want to meet him. we agreed to let it be a blind date to avoid the mess of telling them that they're meeting an avenger.”

“i knew it. you're going on a rebound date!” she jumped on her seat, as if she'd solved the winning numbers to the lottery. “there was no way you'd suddenly go on a blind date without a catch. you're too hung up on bucky!”

“keep it down!” you pulled her back into the couch, nervously looking around the room to see if anyone was close by. “i'm pretty sure rebounds only apply to people i've dated. bucky's hardly a candidate for that list.”

“you've liked him for way too long that it basically feels like you had a relationship, and i'm pretty sure he likes you too,” natasha said. “trust me, my guts? golden.”

you winced at the thought. there had been zero signs that bucky liked you back. as much as you trusted natasha and her instincts, this was something you couldn't just assume.

“i don't think so, nat. i've given him enough hints. it's either he's too dense about it or he's just not interested. maybe it's just how it's supposed to be, and i can't keep myself stuck with maybes forever.” you sighed, deciding to finally go to the blind date. “help me pick an outfit?”

“like you even have to ask?” she smiled, dragging you to your room while you were still left with uncertainty in your heart.

the restaurant was one of those hole-in-the-wall places in downtown new york. it had a lot people dining inside, their noise easily heard from the outside, yet the ambiance already felt warm and welcoming. you wondered if sam suggested the place or the guy you were about to meet.

you sighed, giving your chest one last tap since it wouldn't stop beating so fast. it was a wonder how your heartbeat remained stable during a risky mission, while a harmless date had you this nervous. although with that, you felt human.

“okay, let's see where this goes,” you muttered to yourself, glancing at your watch that had a tracking device in it, as requested (or ordered) by your best friend.

natasha initially opted to come with you and seat somewhere far, but you told her that you didn't need it. so, she settled with a tracking device, as if you weren't an avenger who could defend yourself. you couldn't find it in you to complain, since this was natasha's own way of showing that she cared.

you entered the restaurant, eyes wandering around the room despite not knowing exactly what to look for. the only details you were allowed to know was that “joseph” knew where to take you, so you assumed that person was one of the staff that you had to look for.

once you found a waitress that didn't look too occupied, you approached her with a smile. “excuse me, may i know where joseph is?”

the lady looked up at you, recognition evident on her face. you were slightly worried that she knew your identity, but she gave you a warm smile and held your arm gently. “oh, he's right there by the counter. let me take you to him!”

she escorted you towards the man handling the counter that seemed to be where the orders were taken. he was shouting various orders behind him while arranging the food on the counter. by the looks of it, he could be the manager or the owner of the place.

“she's here!” the lady beside you exclaimed, catching the full attention of joseph.

“ah, there's our special guest for tonight!” joseph walked around the counter to hug you, as if you knew each other for a long time. “come, come! we have the best spot reserved for you. it's right outside where you can enjoy the view while also having some privacy, eh? your date already arrived, but no worries. he wasn't waiting for too long.”

you were rendered speechless as he took you to the patio, not expecting your date to arrive first, and most importantly not expecting to see him right away. you thought you were early enough, but it seems that your date was an earlier bird than you were.

once outside, all you could see was an empty patio with one man sitting not so far from where you were standing. you hated how you could only see his back and not his face, since he was facing the opposite direction. although, you immediately noticed how he was dressed similarly to bucky.

similar haircut, black boots, and a black jacket. while you weren't sure if they actually looked alike, sam wasn't kidding about them having some similarities.

“how come it's empty out here?” you asked with genuine curiosity. the restaurant was oozing with customers tonight, and they could surely use the extra space outdoors.

“well, uh...” joseph scratched his head, smiling awkwardly as he looked for an answer. “oh, well, stop worrying about that! you're here to go on a date and nothing more! let us worry about that ourselves, hm? come, let's not make your date wait for too long.”

you both walked towards the only table occupied, taking a deep breath before joseph announced, “your date has arrived!”

the man turned around, eyes widened at the sudden noise, but he eventually smiled once he looked at you.

“hey, nice to finally meet you.” he stood up, extending his hand. “i'm martin.”

one look at him and you knew that your heart stubbornly stayed with someone you shouldn't be thinking about.

“i still can't believe that i'm on a date with an avenger.”

you were barely done with your meal despite being here for more than an hour, and martin hasn't been able to stop gushing about your whole avenger sideline. while you understood his excitement, this wasn't the type of date that you hoped for.

“you think i could tell my friends?” he asked, suddenly nudging his chair closer to you that he was basically sitting beside you. “they probably won't believe me, so will it be okay if we took a picture?”

oh, so that's why he moved closer.

“sure.” you forced a smile. “but don't get too close, maybe? i'm.. i'm not that comfortable yet.”

as if you said nothing, he placed an arm over your shoulder, pulling you even closer to him. you've been through worse situations than this, but you were highly uncomfortable having your boundaries crossed.

bucky wouldn't do something like this. how did sam think that any of his behaviour was similar to him?

martin already had his phone out, capturing pictures and squeezing your arm, when you decided that this isn't what you wanted, but before you could open your mouth, you felt someone pulling his arm off of you, causing martin to scream.

“what is wrong with you!?” martin shouted, standing up and stepping away while he held his aching arm. when you turned around, you felt your heart stop to find the person you least expected to be here, but wanted the most to be with.

“bucky?”

he did not look at you, his eyes still fixated on martin, nostrils flaring as he took a step closer, standing in front of you as if he was shielding you, while martin took the same amount of steps backwards. “she clearly said no. what the fuck was so hard about understanding that?”

“look, man, i don't know what you're doing here, but i think this is between me and her,” he said, his eyes showing fear as he watched the ex-assassin approach him, hearing the gears of his metal arm whirring.

“give me your phone.” bucky ordered. “now.”

martin immediately fished for his phone, nearly dropping it, and gave it to bucky. “w-what are you going to do?”

“no, this is what you're gonna do,” bucky started, crashing martin's phone with ease and carelessly throwing it to the side. “this date never happened, your friends will hear nothing about tonight, and you will get out of here before i finish counting to three. one...”

in a snap, martin was already out of your sight. if you hadn't known martin before this, you would think he idolised pietro with the way he ran so fast.

“are you okay?”

forgetting about bucky for a split second, his voice jolted you out of your thoughts. you looked up, your heart racing, to find him right in front you.

“what are you doing here?”

“that doesn't really answer my question, doll. answer mine first, will ya? then i'll answer yours.”

“i'm okay, but i can take care of myself. you didn't have to scare the guy.” you sighed, trying your best to look displeased when in fact this has been the happiest you've been tonight. “so? why are you here?”

“well, it's really hard to explain...”

“you better try, barnes, because i am very confused right now,” you said. “one moment i'm on a date with someone, then suddenly my teammate, who i told nothing about said date, appears and crushes the phone of the guy i'm with?”

“natasha told me about it.”

you frowned, not surprised with natasha's gossipy nature, but confused about what she could've said that made him go all the way here.

“i was looking for you since you're always with us during dinner, and nat told me that you were on a date. i couldn't help but ask where and with whom, but she said that she had no idea, that it was a blind date. she was more than glad to tell me where you were, so i came here looking for you.”

“why?” you asked, confused and suddenly hopeful at the same time. although, you tried to keep your hopes down, not wanting to set yourself up for a heartbreak.

“what do you mean why? that's it. i was just worried, and now you're okay. can we go home?”

he turned his back on you and walked away, you were quick enough follow him, still unsatisfied with his answer.

once you've reached a dark alley where he had his motorcycle parked, you sighed and decided to ask one more time.

“what are you actually doing here, barnes?” you asked. “i want an actual answer or i'm walking home.”

“it doesn't matter,” bucky answered shortly, frustration. written on his face. “why did you agree to this anyway? doesn't feel like something you'd do.”

“you have no idea about what i feel and what i want to do,” you answered. “and you still haven't answered my question.”

“i don't know, okay? i don't know. i just..” he sighed. “i heard the word date and everything didn't make sense. all i knew was that i wanted to follow you here and stop whatever you were doing. i didn't like it.”

“what gives you the right to stop me from going on a date?” you asked, your head jerked back in disbelief. “and why would it even bother you? this is the first time someone went on a date in the team. so what makes mine so different?”

“what do you think?” he asked, his gaze challenging and curious, waiting for your response.

you stood in silence, his question causing a sudden drift in the conversation. you could feel the tension in the air.

“sam made me go to a blind date as well,” he spoke again. “i just remembered that he was asking me where i'd take someone on a date. days after that, he said he found a girl that i might like, and that i should go on a date with her, he suggested that it should be a blind date, knowing that i'm an avenger and all.”

“why didn't you go?”

“i couldn't. i wasn't interested. i knew it wouldn't work.”

“why?”

“because i already like someone.”

your heart sank, a lump forming in your throat as the reality set in that the person you've been pining for was already interested in someone else.

so much for going on a date to forget about him.

“what about you?” he asked. “why did you go?”

because of you, you idiot.

“trying to get over someone,” you simply answered.

“you were seeing someone?” he asked, completely clueless, but suddenly looking uneasy. “i never knew you were in a relationship. i guess, we're not that close, but i thought i'd at least know abou—”

“what? no!” you replied, voice rising as you spoke. "god, i agreed to this date because i wanted to get over you!"

the words slipped out of your mouth, your eyes widening in surprise as you accidentally reveal the feelings you had kept hidden.

bucky blinked, silence hanging in the air. the confession felt heavy between you as you waited for his response.

“i didn't agree to going on a blind date because i have feelings you,” bucky finally spoke, taking a deep breath before continuing, “because i knew i wouldn't enjoy it knowing i'd be thinking of you anyway, because as convinced as i was that you had no interest in me, i'd rather keep my eyes on you than on anybody else.”

“wait, wait, what? you like me?” you repeated in a slightly disbelieving tone, searching his face for confirmation.

“why would i follow you all the way here if i didn't?”

“because you care? and it might be dangerous to go on a date with someone i've never met?” you guessed. “i mean, i think you'd also do it for everybody else, as grumpy as you look like on the outside, you can be a softie sometimes.”

“if i had no feelings for you, i wouldn't be here. you're an avenger for christ's sake. some random guy would be like a training dummy for you,” he answered. “and no, i wouldn't be doing this for anybody else. if the situation's that dangerous, maybe, but a date? you're all adults. you know what you're doing.”

you couldn't help but giggle at his answer, which earned you a glare from him. “what?”

“nothing.” you shook your head. “you sound like an old man lecturing the younger generation.”

“are we completely ignoring the fact that we like each other?”

“that's the only thing on my mind right now.” you admitted. “are you sure about what you just said? it could be the hunger talking.”

instead of answering, bucky took his phone out of his pocket, swiping and tapping on it a few times before taking your hand and placing it on your palm.

“what am i supposed to—”

“just read it.”

choosing not to argue with him, you grabbed the phone with a frown. his messages with natasha were on the screen, starting from their messages from nearly four months ago. you scrolled through their messages, and while they lasted for months, they were all short and straightforward.

three months ago

bucky:

did you arrive safely?

romanoff:

since when did you start asking?

bucky:

?

romanoff:

yes, we arrived safely.

bucky:

👍🏻

romanoff:

really???

two months ago

bucky:

is she okay?

romanoff:

ohhh, that's why you keep texting.

bucky:

answer

romanoff:

geez, barnes.

yeah, she's okay.

bucky:

ok

one month ago

bucky:

she's sick?

romanoff:

yeah, wanna visit her?

you're basically immune.

bucky:

i have a mission

romanoff:

oh yeah

oops

bucky:

are you busy?

romanoff:

nope

why?

bucky:

take my place

romanoff:

no thanks, barnes.

bucky:

i'll take your next task

and the next one as well

romanoff:

why can't you just take this one?

bucky:

nothing

romanoff:

a reason or i'm not doing it.

bucky:

she's sick

i want to stay

romanoff:

oh my god

you're such a sap

fine i'll talk to steve

bucky:

ty

romanoff:

you're using abbreviations now???

bucky:

👍🏻

one week ago

romanoff:

movie night later, don't ditch us again

bucky:

busy

romanoff:

she planned this one

she's worried you won't come

bucky:

i'll bring snacks

romanoff:

i love knowing your weakness

bring popcorn!

bucky:

she prefers pizza over popcorn

does she like popcorn?

romanoff:

nope, but some of us do.

bucky:

ok

romanoff:

so you're bringing popcorn?

bucky:

no

once you were done reading, you returned his phone back to his hand. “you do like me,” you said, the confession finally sinking in.

bucky nodded. “and you like me too.”

“where does that leave us?” you asked, hoping. “are we.. dating now?”

“no,” he answered quickly.

you felt that ache returning in your chest, but before you could say something, bucky already sensed your worries and he wasn't letting you slip away that easily.

“no because i want to do this right. i want to take you out on a date first, bring you flowers, play music and ask you for a dance, all that stuff that you deserve,” he explained, bringing his warm hand to your cheek. “but trust me that it won't take long before i call you mine. i don't think i have the patience for it at this point.”

“you promise?” you rose to your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around him. “i don't want to wait that long either.”

“you won't,” he replied, leaning into you, his lips brushing against your nose before pulling you in a kiss. “i promise.”

this was supposed to have a lil bonus when they got back to the tower, revealing the team's true involvement with the blind date, buttt i might just do it some other time as a snippet/part 2 instead. i still have a few to write anyway, woops.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[buckets-and-trees]

Bed Chem [collection]

a modern AU traipsing through hook-up culture

Swipe. Match. Message. Meet up.

Get wrecked by Bucky Barnes in a bit of a loser era: divorced, dirty, not giving much of a damn about anything.

Repeat.

Characters/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x curvy Millennial Female!Reader

Content Warnings: [check individual parts for their respective warnings] modern AU, hook up culture, explicit and rough sex, coercion, objectification, no strings attached

HOOK UPS: ↠ Parking Lot Chem [6.7k] ↠ Camaraderie [3.4k] ↠ Even Better Than In My Head [2.9k] (no smut) not complete, but not a series - updates sporadically

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest Bucky Barnes Collection

[artficlly]

smog & spirits: a favour for a friend (series)

Marvel 1920s Gangster/Peaky Blinders Inspired Fantasy AU

gangsterboss!bucky x witch!reader

Bucky Barnes, the leader of Sootstone's Smog Boys, needs a favour. A nasty curse has been cast on him, and he needs a witch to help him break it.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, fem reader, bit of smut, mention of forced pregnancy (not to reader), mention of sa (not to reader), abortion (not to reader), mention of medical procedures, hospitals, ghosts, past wounds, vague mentions of physical violence, angst, threats, some fluff, protective bucky, kissing, becca, bucky barnes had issues, so does becca tbh, criminals & crime, 1920s street gangs, witchcraft, vaguely british setting??, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: hey! let me know your thoughts on this chapter! i'm hoping i can get this series wrapped up before i go back to uni. sorry for any typos - not proof read.

taglist: @nash-dara @sebastians-love @calwitch permanent taglist: @globetrotter28

main masterlist | series masterlist

You were in an uncharacteristically good mood. 

Bucky had stayed the night, in fact, the gangster had stayed the night nearly every day that week. He didn’t seem eager to let you slip through his fingers after the Iron Rat incident. Not many words were exchanged between the two of you, rather a flurry of desperate energy. He would let himself into your small flat as usual, locate you and quickly coax you into bed. 

You’d awoken to the slow drag of his mouth between your thighs this morning, his stubble scratching your skin as he devoured you with a near-religious fervour. Even after you came undone beneath him, he hadn’t been satisfied, murmuring against your flushed skin, coaxing you through another wave of pleasure until you could barely breathe. When he finally kissed his way up your torso, his lips warm and insistent, you had run your hands over his back, fingers tracing the ridges of his scars. A small, twisted part of you found satisfaction in them, in the fact that no matter where he went, you would linger there, haunting him in ways he would never shake.

“Stay,” he had murmured against your skin, voice thick with sleep.

But you had peeled yourself from the bed, dragging yourself away with an exhale of regret. “I’ve got work.”

As much as you had wanted to stay and be claimed yet another time by the gangster, you had agreed to a job. Every few months, Sootstone Infirmary would hire you to walk through the wards, moving on any lost spirits who still clung to your realm. The hospital loomed at the edge of the Warrens, its old brick exterior weathered by time and neglect. High, arched windows with grime clouding the panes, ornate iron railings rusting along the balconies, and stone gargoyles perched atop the roof, their faces softened by decades of soot. Inside, the halls were dim, the air thick with the scents of antiseptic, sweat, and something older—something damp and decaying. Flickering gas lamps lined the corridors, casting long, wavering shadows that danced across peeling wallpaper and worn wooden floors.

Sootstone Infirmary’s ghostly inhabitants were an easy lot to deal with. Most required only the gentlest encouragement to cross beyond the veil, their restless spirits tethered by confusion rather than malice. It was always the same—the elderly, lost in the fog of forgotten memories, unaware they had slipped from the world of the living; the young, their passing so abrupt they had not yet understood it.

You had already coaxed more than a few of them, clearing the lingering echoes from dim-lit rooms and gloomy corridors. But there was still one final place on your list.

The maternity ward.

You descended the old stairwell, the wooden steps groaning beneath your weight, twisting down into the depths of the hospital like a spine curving inward. The maternity wing had been built as an addition to the main structure, its location carefully chosen to keep the screams of labour from disturbing the sick and the dying, those teetering between life and the unknown.

Pushing open the heavy wooden doors, you stepped inside, breathing deeply through your nose as your gaze swept the ward. The air was thick with something heavier than dust, layered with interwoven ghosts of sorrow and joy. But nothing obvious stood out—not at first.

You lifted a hand, fingers parting the air as you reached for the unseen.

Nothing.

You stretched further, sinking into the veil, allowing its delicate strands to brush against you like spider silk. A web of impressions surrounded you, but none bore the telltale pulse of a lingering spirit—only the faint hum of your presence.

Still, you waded deeper.

Then—

A tug.

Small, almost imperceptible, but there.

Your breath hitched as you latched onto the invisible thread, fingers curling around the sensation. It sent tingles up your spine, a spreading warmth over your scalp. A soul reaching out.

You followed its vibration, weaving through the dim corridors, past closed doors and muted cries of labour. Your boots barely made a sound against the scuffed tile floor as you moved through the labyrinth. Then, rounding a final corner, you halted.

The thread in your grasp wavered—then snapped.

The woman before you was no spirit.

She sat slumped against the wall, shoulders trembling, fingers twisting into the fabric of her skirt as though she could anchor herself to something solid. The dim light caught the sheen of dark hair. She was familiar even before she turned her head.

Not a ghost. Not a restless soul in need of passage.

But very much alive.

You exhaled sharply, the weight of your inner vision dissolving as you let go of the veil. The world around you came back into sharp focus—the cold air, the distant wail of a newborn, the damp streaks of tears on the woman’s pale cheeks.

Your voice was quiet, almost hesitant. "Becca?"

Becca’s head snapped, gaze locking with yours in an instant. Panic crossed her features, but she quickly masked it with something else—rage. She used the back of her sleeve to wipe her tear-streaked face, settling into an eerie composure. 

“What’re you doin’ here? Are you spyin’ on me? Was meddlin’ in my brother’s life not enough for you?” She snarled at you, voice raising. A group of passing nurses glanced at you in horror, scuttling away as they realised who spoke. 

“No, I’m—I’m workin’.” The words came tumbling out in defence of yourself, and Becca lifted a brow in disbelief. “The hospital, they pay me to move on the spirits every few months.”

“You’re tellin’ me you just happen to be ‘ere on today of all days? Unbelievable.” She scoffed, you held your ground despite everything within you screaming for you to leave. 

“Are you…” You hesitated, unsure of how to breech the subject. “Are you okay?”

“Do I look fuckin’ okay?” Becca’s expression twisted, her mask cracking just enough to reveal the raw, festering wound beneath, and you recoiled with a slight flinch. 

You stood in silence a moment, chewing on your lip. Maybe it was best to… leave Becca to whatever this was. Her threats still hung heavy in your mind, her cool and calculating tone: you are nothing to us. That couldn’t be true, could it? Bucky had made it painfully clear how much he wanted you, how much he needed you. The way he reacted to what the Iron Rats had done to you—the possessiveness, the sheer rage—it wasn’t nothing. He had spent the last week between your legs, constant, needy, persistent. Though, one look at Becca, maybe it was best not to notify her of that. 

Then, as you were about to turn, whatever barrier Becca had built up shattered, emotions bubbling through. 

“They say they’ave to cut me open—open! Gods, I won’t survive this, will I? I thought I could just take a potion, a tea, be rid of it! But no they say it’s too far gone, that I either ‘ave to carry it or ‘ave it extracted! I’m gonna die in that theatre, aren’t I? I’m gonna die on that table, and they’ll all spit on my legacy, call me a whore—”

You were crouched down instantly, grasping her shaking hands as a fresh wave of tears rolled down her cheeks. “Woah. Just hold on—”

“—And how fuckin’ poetic that the only person I can tell this is an actual whore who has my brother under some kinda spell. It should be you in there, not me—”

“Hey!” Your sharp retort cut through the air, startling her into silence. A scowl pulled at your lips, frustration crackling through you.“First of all, don’t fuckin’ call me that. Secondly, I don’t know who ya spoke to, but ya don’t need to go under the knife!”

Becca stared at you, stunned into stillness. Then, she snapped her jaw shut, swallowing thickly. 

“And what the hells would you know? You’re a spirit-raiser,” she muttered, but there was something weaker in her voice now.

“How far along are ya?” you asked.

“I dunno.” She sniffed, rubbing her arm. “Few weeks. Missed my bleed this month.”

You let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking your head. “Gods, Becca. Ya don’t need surgery for that. I know a woman. A witch. She can help you without cutting you open.”

Becca’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t trust you.”

“I don’t blame ya,” you said, releasing her hand. “But if you want help, you’re gonna have to.”

She wiped at her face again, irritation flickering in her expression as she wrestled with the choice. Her tears had stopped now, replaced by that same indifferent sneer she wore the weeks previous—like she wanted to seem unaffected.

“The witch,” you continued, “she’ll give you herbs to drink. You’ll pass the fetus naturally. It’ll hurt a bit, you might feel sick, but you’ll be fine.”

Becca exhaled slowly, considering. “Who’s this witch?”

“Hester Malrow. She lives in the Warrens.”

Becca frowned. “Never heard of her.”

“She tries to keep a low profile,” you said. “What with all the coppers and Smog Boys about.”

Becca inhaled sharply, gripping the fabric of her skirt again as if trying to ground herself. “And we can go today?”

“Yes.” You met her gaze, firm and unwavering. “I can take you right now.”

—

Becca’s flat was nothing like you expected.

From the outside, it was just another shadowed doorway in the Warrens, tucked between crumbling brick and peeling plaster, the kind of place you had to know about to find. The streets below reeked of coal smoke and damp, the air thick with the scent of cheap gin and desperation. But inside—inside was something else entirely.

Warmth enveloped you the moment you stepped through the door, thick and perfumed with clove and orange, the remnants of an oil lamp flickering low on the side table. Heavy velvet curtains smothered the windows, blocking out the sickly glow of the gas lamps beyond. The walls were lined with dark wood panelling, rich and polished, the sheen catching in the golden lamplight. Framed photographs sat upon a mahogany sideboard, their black-and-white faces frozen in time, watching. You recognised Bucky nearly instantly, though a younger version of him. He was always frowning, a noticeable gap between him and his father, who donned a drunken grin, nose crooked from fighting.

A fireplace crackled at the heart of the room, casting restless shadows over a rug sprawled beneath your feet. The furniture was old but elegant—an overstuffed armchair with clawed wooden feet, a settee draped in an embroidered shawl, its fringe grazing the floor. A gramophone perched on a side table, half-covered by a lace doily, a stack of records resting beside it. 

Becca sat hunched on the settee, her elbows on her knees, fingers tangled in her own dark hair. She was pale, her lips pressed thin, her breath measured. The worst was yet to come. The witch had warned her of that—the pain, the cramping, the sickness that would follow—but for now, there was only waiting.

You hovered near the armchair, fingers grazing the brass handle of a cabinet filled with crystal decanters. You weren’t sure what to say.

“She said it would take a few hours,” Becca muttered, barely looking up.

You nodded, glancing toward the mantelpiece. A clock ticked steadily, its polished brass hands sweeping over blackened numerals. Beside it sat a delicate porcelain figurine of a woman holding a lamb—an odd, almost sentimental thing to find.

“I didn’t expect your place to look like this,” you admitted, the words slipping out before you could catch them.

Becca let out a dry, humourless chuckle. “What? Expected some rat-infested hole? Thought I slept on a pile of rags?”

You shrugged, meeting her eyes for the first time since you stepped inside. “I don’t know what I expected. Just not… this.”

Becca huffed but didn’t argue. She leaned back, tilting her head against the cushion, exhaling sharply.

"It was Bucky who bought it," Becca muttered, voice quieter now. “We sold the old family house, the one my father owned. Fuckin’ hated that place.”

Her gaze flicked toward the fire, where the flames licked at the soot-blackened bricks. The room had a warmth to it, a kind of fragile sanctuary nestled deep in the rot of the Warrens, but her words carried a coldness that seeped into your bones.

"I don’t blame you," you murmured before you could stop yourself. “I’ve heard your father weren’t the… kindest of men.”

Becca’s eyes snapped up to you, sharp as a blade catching candlelight. “An’ who told ya that?”

You hesitated, fighting against the sudden tightness in your throat. “Bucky.”

A flicker of surprise crossed her face, just for a second. You thought she might press you, demand to know why Bucky had confided such things, but instead, she swallowed whatever remark had been forming. Her jaw tensed as she shifted in her seat, one arm curling around her stomach. 

She exhaled through her nose, tilting her head back against the settee.

“I heard about your little Iron Rat ordeal,” she said, voice laced with something unreadable. “Made a big fuckin’ mess for us.”

“I didn’t ask for anyone to do… any of that,” you shot back, fidgeting where you stood.

“Sure.” Becca scoffed, her eyes dark with something like amusement—mean, biting amusement. “You’re still fuckin’ him, aren’t you? He probably fucked ya over the table in the warehouse after he butchered them Iron Rats. Totally his style.”

You stiffened, a heat rising up the back of your neck that had nothing to do with the fire. Becca grinned, sensing she had struck a nerve, but before you could gather the words to throw back at her, she continued.

“You know, you could’ve gotten away with it. Could’ve just slipped past the Sootline and been long gone. Was just unfortunate you ran into that priestess woman. Fuckin’ creepy, she was.” She let out a dry laugh, but there was something watchful in her expression as she said, “Don’t blame ya for tryin’ to avoid the church after what they did to your mother. But from what I’ve heard, they’ve had eyes on you since you was born.”

“You don’t know anythin’ about my mother,” you said, voice low, tight.

Becca’s smile didn’t fade. If anything, it sharpened. “I know a lot, actually. You’d be surprised.” 

She let her head loll against the back of the settee, staring at you through half-lidded eyes, as if considering how much she wanted to share. “I know a lot about your ‘father’ as well. He weren’t no saint, that’s for sure.”

Something about the way she said ‘father’ made your breath catch. There was an implication there, something just beneath the surface of her words. Your brows furrowed.

Becca watched you, then let out a scoff. “Tell me, did he fall into drink before or after he took your pregnant mother in out of pity?”

You blinked. “What?”

Every tale you had heard, every answer to your question, had always led to your father helping your mother escape the Church of Light. It was his one saving grace, the one reason why a part of your heart forgave him for all the cruelty he inflicted upon those he supposedly loved. 

Becca exhaled sharply, shifting against the settee, her discomfort momentarily forgotten. “What, you didn’t know?”

“Know what?”

“That he isn’t your real father.” Becca hesitated as if realising for the first time just how deep your ignorance ran. She tilted her head, observing you. Then, with the casual cruelty of someone who had nothing to lose, she spoke. 

“The church, they forcefully impregnated her. They thought they were fulfillin’ some grand prophecy, bringin’ about a child that could channel and control death itself, the light-bringer or some shit. Their idea of rapture—how do you not know any of this?” She rolled her eyes, then winced slightly as another wave of pain twisted through her. 

The room shrunk around you.

The words rang in your head, hollow and deafening. The fire crackled. The clock ticked. Somewhere outside, a dog barked. Your fingers curled around the wooden arm of the armchair to steady yourself.

Becca smirked at your silence, shaking her head. “Shit, your life’s more fucked up than I thought. More reason for you to keep this mess away from my brother—”

The front door rattled. A heavy, deliberate turn of the handle.

Your breath caught.

Becca’s eyes flicked to the door, her body tensing instinctively despite her pain. The room felt suddenly, unbearably warm.

The door swung open.

Bucky stepped inside, shaking the cold from his shoulders, the scent of the ocean and cigarettes trailing in with him. True to his nature, he had let himself into Becca’s flat without so much as a knock, moving with the easy confidence of someone who had long stopped asking for permission. The heavy door clicked shut behind him, sealing out the muffled noise of the Warrens’ streets.

His gaze swept the room, taking in the dim glow of the fire, the clutter of discarded blankets, the half-drained teacup on the side table. Then, his eyes landed on you, standing at the centre of it all, framed by the flickering light. His brows lifted in surprise, the ghost of an unspoken question forming on his lips. You could see the gears turning in his head, readying to demand an explanation.

But then he spotted Becca.

Slumped into the settee, half-curled over herself, her face ashen and drawn tight with pain. One hand gripped the armrest in a white-knuckled hold, the other resting against her stomach. The dim, golden light of the fire carved out the tension in her features, the sweat beading along her brow.

Bucky stilled. His jaw clenched, the muscles feathering beneath his stubble. His sharp eyes flickered between you and Becca with something unreadable—something that edged dangerously between concern and barely restrained frustration.

“The fuck’s goin’ on here?” His voice was low and rough, with that dangerous steadiness that came before a storm.

You barely had a moment to process before he cut through the space between you, his gaze hard and questioning.

“Since when did you two know each other?”

Becca beat you to answering. “Nat introduced us.” The lie left her lips smoothly, her voice betraying nothing.

Your stomach twisted at the quick cover story, but Bucky wasn’t buying it. His stare darkened, flicking between the two of you like he could sniff out the deception.

“Nat… introduced you?” His disbelief curled through every syllable, slow and measured, like he was waiting for one of you to slip up.

You remained frozen at the centre of the sitting room, torn between wanting to fade into the wallpaper and making a mad dash for the door. Standing here in the warmth of Becca’s flat felt intrusive, bearing witness to something you shouldn’t be a part of. For all the times Bucky had invaded your space, your home, why did it feel so much worse to be invading his?

“Yes,” Becca confirmed, still as unreadable as ever.

Bucky let out a dry, humourless chuckle, shaking his head. “Forgive me, but I don’t believe a single fuckin’ thing coming out of your mouth.”

“Fine, Jamie,” Becca huffed, dropping the pretence with a roll of her eyes. “We met earlier today at the infirmary. She was kind enough to escort me home.”

“Infirmary?” His gaze snapped back to her, his stance shifting slightly, energy tightening. “Why were you at the hospital? Why the fuck did you need escortin’? Did someone do somethin’ to ya—" his voice sharpened, fists clenching, "I swear to the gods, if it’s that Brackett kid—”

Becca cut him off with a scoff, pressing a hand to her stomach. “It’s woman problems, Jamie. I wouldn’t expect ya to understand.”

“Woman problems?” His voice was sceptical, but you could see the moment realisation dawned on him. His sharp blue eyes raked over her, truly looking at her this time—the paleness of her face, the sheen of cold sweat, the way her brows pinched subtly in pain, how her fingers hovered protectively over her stomach—

“That fucker knocked you up, didn’t he?”

His voice was a growl now, his whole body going rigid, ready for a fight.

Without thinking, you stepped forward, instinctively positioning yourself between him and Becca as his voice began to rise. “Leave her be, Barnes.”

His eyes veered to you, a fire burning behind them. “Oh, you’re one to fuckin’ talk. How did you get involved in this?” His voice was heated now, fast, frustrated. “Everywhere I look, everything I do, every fuckin’ thought I have—you’re always there.”

Becca exhaled sharply, an irritated sigh cutting through the tension. “Gods, you two are still fuckin’, ain’t you?”

Bucky’s head snapped toward her. “What’d’ya mean still?”

Becca arched a brow, unimpressed. “I ain’t stupid. I’ve known about this little… affair for a while now. I told her to stay away from you forever ago.” Her gaze darkened slightly. “Don’t need a repeat of the last witch you took a likin’ to, do we?”

Bucky’s expression shifted in an instant, his posture tightening. “I’m sorry? You did what—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, reaching for his coat sleeve before he could start tearing into Becca. “Outside. Let’s go on a walk and leave her be.”

Bucky barely had time to resist before you were ushering him toward the door, your hands pressing against the solid weight of him as you pushed him out into the cold. Becca’s dry laughter followed you, melodic and mocking, her sing-song ‘bye-bye!’ cut off sharply as Bucky slammed the door behind him with enough force to rattle the frame.

The air outside was crisp, biting against your skin, but it did little to cool the heat rolling off him. He was seething, his jaw clenched so tightly you swore you could hear his teeth grind. The tension in his frame coiled like a beast ready to pounce, his breath ragged, his fists flexing at his sides.

“What the fuck did she say to you?” His voice was low, rough with barely restrained fury.

You sighed, unimpressed, tugging him forward into the dimly lit streets, his boots scuffing against the uneven cobblestone as he followed. You had long since grown used to his moods. You might have quivered under his glare in the past, but now? You merely gave him a slow, nonchalant glance, your voice light with forced indifference.

“Vague threats of death,” you mused. “But considerin’ I’m standin’ here now, I didn’t exactly take it to heart.”

That did nothing to ease the tension in his frame. Instead, he moved fast—quicker than you could react—catching your chin between his fingers, forcing you to stop mid-step. His grip wasn’t cruel but firm, demanding your attention. His stormy blue eyes bore down into yours.

“Tell me the truth, doll.” His voice was gravelly and low, sending a shiver down your spine.

You exhaled heavily, gaze flicking away from his momentarily before finally admitting, “It was after… after I healed your back.” Your voice softened, uncertainty creeping in. “She said I ruined you, that I was dangerous. Didn’t want me near you after what happened with the last one.”

His expression twisted, eyes narrowing into something unreadable.

“That’s why you didn’t come to the family meetin’?”

Your gaze dropped, lips pressing into a thin line before you nodded. “Yes. Look, you left without saying a damn thing. How could I not have felt… unwelcome?” A bitter edge crept into your voice before you shook your head. “Then I went over to Grimrow for a change in scenery and—”

Bucky’s jaw ticked, his fingers smoothing over your cheek with an uncharacteristically gentle touch.

“You went over there? Because you were upset with me?” His voice was quieter now, but the sharpness remained.

“I wanted to disappear.” The confession left your lips in a whisper.

His brows pulled together, his grip on your wrist tightening for half a second before, without a word, he yanked you into a shadowed archway near the Sootline. The city noise dulled around you, swallowed by the secluded space. Before you could even catch your breath, his hands were on you as he cupped your face and crashed his lips onto yours.

His kiss was deep, desperate, tasting of cigarettes and something unmistakably him—a mix of salt and smoke, of whiskey lingering faintly on his tongue. His fingers tangled into your hair, pulling just enough to make you gasp, and he used the moment to deepen the kiss, pressing you back against the wall with the full weight of his body. His lips were warm, hungry. 

You could feel the tension in his frame, the way his fingers flexed against your waist as if trying to memorise the shape of you. His lips turned slower then, less frantic but just as consuming, his mouth tracing over yours with bruising intent, like he was afraid to let go. You sighed against him, hands trailing up his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his coat.

When he finally pulled away, his breath was ragged, his forehead pressing against yours for a lingering moment. But then he let out a low, dangerous growl, his fingers tightening possessively at your waist.

“I’m gonna kill my sister. Then that fucker Brackett for knockin’ her up—”

“No,” you cut in, shaking your head. “Don’t. I think… I think we’ve finally reached a hesitant peace.”

Bucky scoffed, unconvinced. “You obviously don’t know my sister.”

“No,” you admitted, tilting your head, “but she owes me now. Them fuckwits at the hospital wanted to cut her open. I just took her to get a potion—the sickness should pass inna few days. Have someone keep an eye on her.”

He grumbled in quiet acceptance, the tension in his frame softening slightly. His lips found yours again, this time slower, more deliberate. You hummed against his mouth, a soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you leaned into him.

“Well,” he murmured after a moment, his breath warm against your skin. “I was gonna drag Becca along with me to see Stark, but since she’s occupied, I’ll take you instead.”

You blinked up at him. “Stark?”

Bucky smirked, tugging you along the narrow streets. “He’s a mad scientist of sorts. His father and mine used to be in business.”

“And you’re visiting him because…?”

“I’m havin’ a party. Invitin’ half of fuckin’ Blackstone—includin’ you.” He sent you a sideways glance. “Thought I’d deliver his invitation myself. He gets all pissed off if I don’t pay him attention every couple of months like he’s some bird on my roster I gotta regularly fuck.”

You snorted. “You have a roster?”

His smirk widened. “Why you askin’? You jealous?”

You rolled your eyes, your voice dripping with sarcasm to hide the defensiveness that wished to worm into your reply. “No. Not like we’re married or some shit. For all you know, I could have a roster.”

In an instant, he had you backed against the brick wall again, his hands pressing firm against your waist. His expression darkened, his gaze dragging over you with slow deliberation.

“Keep talkin’ like that, and I will fuck you right up against this wall,” he warned, voice thick with something sinful.

A soft giggle escaped you, but you reached up, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair that had slipped from his slicked-back style, your head tilting as you studied him.

“Why a party?” Your voice was softer now, more inquisitive. “What are you plannin’?”

He pulled back slightly, his smirk twisting into something more unreadable. “Best I not say, doll.”

You searched his face, something gnawing at your gut. “You know you can talk to me, right?” Your voice dipped lower, more serious. “I know I’m just some bird on your roster, but… you know I can help you… and I keep my mouth shut, hm?”

His jaw tightened slightly, something unreadable flashing in his gaze. Then, after a pause, he exhaled, voice dropping into something far darker.

“Let’s just say I’ve got a very fuckin’ public lesson to teach.”

Your stomach twisted, but before you could question him further, he tugged you forward, his grip warm but firm.

“Now, come on,” he muttered. “We’re gonna be late.”

PART NINE

[vunblr]

The Aftermatch. (Blue-collar Bucky #2.5)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only.

Summary: The taser's effects dissapear.

Word Count: 300

notes: Since issue #3 will be focused on the R-Day (revenge day), and @sashaisready asked me about what happened to him after she left him in the storage room, I thought some of you would like to know too. So, here is a little drabble.

When Bucky finally regained control of his sticky, warm, absolutely fucking humiliated body, he groaned in frustration and forced himself up, careful to avoid the puddle on the floor.

His limbs were sluggish, as the last remnants of the taser’s aftershock were still humming under his skin. His fingers felt numb, clumsy, and he scowled as he tried to pull his jeans back on, fumbling with the button like some drunk asshole in an alleyway.

It took longer than he’d like to get them fastened, and when he finally looked down at himself, his irritation only deepened. His tank top was ruined.

The fabric was splattered with evidence of how badly she had gotten him. Bucky pressed his lips into a tight line, his jaw ticking as he stared at it.

Fucking hell.

With a huff, he yanked it off, flipped it inside out, and pulled it back over his head, making sure to tug the damn tag out.

Then he just…stood there, in the silence of the storage room, replaying what happened. His body was still flushed, still sensitive, still so fucking high off it, but his mind was a mess.

Because this wasn’t just some casual hookup anymore, was it?

She had gotten under his skin.

She had tased him, ruined him, left him in a puddle of his own cum, and then walked away like he was nothing.

Bucky clenched his jaw, exhaling sharply through his nose. This was why he didn’t do feelings.

Because if he wanted her, really wanted her, what then?

His chest clenched at the thought, at the possibility that he was already in too fucking deep and she wasn’t even thinking about it.

And maybe that’s why, when he finally left the community center that night, head still buzzing, and pride still stinging, he decided he wasn’t letting this go.

She wanted to play with fire?

Fine.

Now it was his turn.

Dividers by: @/strangergraphics

[pinkiebieberpie]

dating mob boss!bucky is a dream come true... kind of- he is the sweetest guy you've ever met and you simply have no idea how such a good guy ended up doing what he is doing; guns, drugs, blood?? this handsome guy??? but that's the reality of his life; you are not married or engaged, just dating and you are living together since what feels like forever; you can't count how many times bucky came home covered in blood (it's weirdly attractive, cause c'mon!!! hot.) but he cares about you deeply, he will do anything for you, he always takes care of you, spoils you... after all you are dating very rich mafia boss and there is nothing he can't get you; "anything for you, angel", "we really should go on vacation, i need you all to myself 24/7, in my arms, no work, just us" and said vacations are magical... fancy hotel on some very warm island, sunny and sandy beach, perfect weather and the two of you enjoying each others company; bucky barnes may be a cold blood murderer when he is working, but with you? soft but firm touch, his hands all over you, his lips on your skin... "fuck, i love you baby... i need you so bad, we should go back to our room..."; if you are not on vacation it's always a fancy party, some meetings with his business partners, oh one day you will be a perfect mob wife~ on the other hand he doesn't want you to get hurt and in his line of work it's very easy to get hurt... the amount of times he tried to convince you that you will be better without him is crazy- you stayed everytime.

masterlists

(also can we just talk about this seb's mirror selfie??? i'm about to explode, pvssy WET.)