#bucky barnes x thief!reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sinner-as-saint · 1 year ago

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stealing hearts

Mob!Bucky x Thief!Reader

Run-through: His mansion was highly secured, and yet, breaking in and trying to steal from him was rather easy for a skilled thief like yourself. Key word: trying. Of course you got caught by his men. And the mob boss was known to be ruthless, cold, merciless – the list of his villainy was endless – so you thought he’d end you the moment he laid eyes on a thief like you. However, he didn’t. Instead, he made you an unusual offer. One you couldn’t resist.

Themes: thief!reader, mentions of homelessness and parental death, slight angst, mob!bucky, dom!bucky, slight daddy kink, sex toys, age gap (reader is in her early twenties), smut, fluff, cocky!reader

a/n: more mob!bucky bc i need to write him for my mental health

“Where is he?”

You heard a deep, surprisingly calm male voice ask, followed by multiple footsteps that echoed outside this dark room which resembled a dungeon, or rather a large storage room filled with boxes.

You heard someone correct the man. “Uh, it’s a woman, sir.”

The footsteps stopped for a brief moment, then resumed. The first authoritative voice spoke up again. “She was alone?”

“Yes.”

Silence. More echoing footsteps. “I’ll handle this. Wait here.” Immediately all the other footsteps stopped and only one continued approaching.

A few seconds later, the door opened and a tall man walked in. You knew who he was, you’d broken into his home after all. Bucky Barnes. You had seen his face on the news multiple times. He was also easily recognisable because of his metal arm. He was the one most people feared around here. He was the infamous mob boss. Filthy rich, arrogant, merciless. But powerful more than anything.

He took one look at you, tied to a chair in the middle of the dimly lit room, and scoffed. The asshole scoffed.

You glared at him. “Spare me whatever dark villainous speech you have planned and just shoot me already.” You hissed, looking away from him.

He was quiet for a second. Then said, “What makes you think I have some dark villainous speech prepared?” His voice was surprisingly softer than how he sounded outside. Smooth, rich voice. The kind that felt like a caress.

You turned to look at him again, still glaring, “All you old, rich bastards are the same. You love to hear yourselves talk.”

He chuckled this time, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked in a slow circle around the chair you were currently tied to. “I’m not that old. Besides, wealthy is the right word here.” He ignored the way you scoffed at his words, and continued, “Also, a thief who hates wealthy people? Very original.”

You sarcastically chuckled this time. “See what I mean? You love to hear yourself talk.”

He stopped right behind you, where you couldn’t see him. You would be lying if you said your heart didn’t start racing immediately. Out of your sight, he could have a gun pointed at your head right now and you wouldn’t even know.

He didn’t say a word. He just stood there. Letting the anticipation build. Until you couldn’t take it anymore. Yanking on the ropes didn’t work, you tried that earlier. So you said, “At least have the decency to look me in the eyes while you kill me.”

He was quiet for a moment.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

When you gave him your name, he sighed and said, “Who said I’m gonna kill you?”

Oh?

“Well I can’t imagine you’re gonna let me walk away just like that either.” You’d been observing rich people all your life, you knew how they operated. You knew he would ask for something in return.

“No,” He said, remaining out of your sight. “No, I won’t let you walk away just like that.” He confirmed.

You laughed humorlessly. “Just so you know, I don’t have any money.”

He ignored you. “Who sent you?” He asked.

Ah, the interrogation. Again. “Your loyal guard dogs already asked me that while they were tying me down. And they used some very colourful language too,” You scoffed. “And I’ll repeat what I said to them. No one sent me. I don’t work for anyone.”

He began walking around you again, coming to a stop right in front of you this time. You looked up at him. Damn he was… kind of handsome. You couldn’t help but smirk, then failed at hiding it.

“What’s with the smirk?” He asked. You were surprised with how calm he was with this whole thing. It was unnatural.

You held his stare as you spoke, “Nothing I was just thinking about how I used to watch the news growing up and they always mentioned how much of a big bad monster you are. But there’s not even a single battle scar on your pretty face.”

He chuckled this time, shaking his head as he looked away from you for a brief moment. “Stop making me sound old. Also, the scars are everywhere but on my face.” He said, stepping closer, bending down a little so he could whisper, “And did you just call me pretty?”

Your smirk faded. Your murderous glare returned. “Fuck you.” You said quietly.

He stepped back with a proud smirk on his face. “How did you get in here? With no help? I’m finding that hard to believe.”

The smirk came back. “You’re doubting my amazing thieving skills? I spent years perfecting them mind you.”

He sighed. “Years? You look twenty-five at most, have you been stealing shit since you were a kid?”

You shrugged, or tried to, “Gotta do what you gotta do to survive. Dead parents, grew up with shitty relatives, ran away from there, been a thief ever since.” You summarised your life in that self-deprecating way you always did.

He didn’t laugh, or chuckle. He just stared at you with an expression you couldn’t read. “Where do you even live?”

You gave him a sassy smile, “I’m a thief, I break into somewhere new each night. You’d be surprised at how many vacant apartments with comfy beds there are in this area.”

Again, he gave you that same poker face. Handsome poker face. “And you broke into my house tonight for what? To sleep?”

“House?” You gasped dramatically. “This is a damn castle. Though the décor is a little too dark, then again it suits you, you know? Nice gardens, by the way.”

He sighed again, like he was dealing with a difficult child. “Why did you come here? And how? How did you get past my guys?”

You took a deep breath and began explaining, “Number one, I came here to steal whatever expensive things I could find. Though you do have very nice comfy beds but I never,” You put more emphasis, “ever, sleep in a house when the owner is home.”

“Charming.” He commented.

You continued explaining.

“And as for how, well I spent the last few days hiding and watching. You have thick bushes out near the entrance of your castle. I stayed there, observed and learnt your security guards’ schedule, and found out that the multiple cameras around your property also rotate. I figured out that I had exactly a fourteen-second window to get past the gates. I found a chance and took it. Picking the locks was easy. But then your people just had to catch me while I was halfway through stealing that lovely painting from your lovely library.” You finished with a smile so sweet it had him sighing again. “And now here we are.”

He mumbled something under his breath about god saving him, then he walked to the door and opened it. He called out a name and someone came running. A young man with a sweet face, looking younger than you even, walked into the room.

“Peter, I need you to make all necessary arrangements.” Bucky pointed in your direction and said, “She’ll be staying with us. Looks like we have a new member.”

You ignored Peter’s very confused look, and hissed at Bucky. “What? I didn’t agree to this!”

Bucky turned to face you with a serious look on his face. “You have no job, no income, and no place to live. I’m offering you all three and you are not in a position to refuse me.” He continued over your attempt at cutting him off. “You have skills I could use. From now on, you work for me.” He paused. “Agreed, little thief?”

You glared at him. Damn. A job, a salary, and a roof over your head? The bastard knew you couldn’t refuse. You had to be smart here. He could’ve killed you, but he didn’t. Instead he made you this almost irresistible offer. This could only mean that…

“You really need me for something, don’t you?” You asked, suddenly sounding cocky.

He clenched his jaw. And that was confirmation enough. “We’ll talk business later.”

You laughed in his face. “Alright, alright, don’t get too excited. But if I’m working for you, I have some conditions and requests.”

He blinked. The Peter guy was so quiet and still you almost forgot he was in the room. “What makes you think you’re in a position to have conditions, or make requests? I could’ve killed you the moment I saw you, you know that?” That cold voice of his would’ve sent shivers down anyone else’s back.

“But you didn’t because you need me.” You argued with a sly smirk. “Now, here’s everything I need,” You turned to Peter and began listing, “A nice room, preferably the guest bedroom at the end of the right wing.” You winked at Bucky and said, “I checked it out earlier and it has the best view.” You turned to Peter and continued, “I also want a whole new, complete wardrobe, with bags and shoes and everything.” You looked at Bucky and said, “Can I also have a car and a chauffeur?”

He frowned. “No.”

“What if I need to move around? Run errands, go get my nails done and all?” You fake pouted.

“I said no.”

You rolled your eyes, “Fine, can I have a pet horse?”

Bucky sighed, “No.”

“A puppy then?”

“What are you, a child?” He questioned.

You smirked, “I mean you’re probably old enough to be my father.” You teased him and tried again, “Can I please have a puppy, daddy?” You knew the way you said it sounded far away from innocent.

Bucky walked over to you so fast your brain barely registered it. He grabbed you by the back of your neck and stared deep into your eyes. “If that’s the case then daddy can also put you over his lap if you keep being a brat, and spank your little butt raw until you either cry or come, or both. Is that what you want, little thief?”

You were breathless as you whispered, “No.” That wasn’t entirely true, and damn it, you both knew it in that moment.

Bucky smirked. “Good girl.” He whispered. Then stepped away and turned to Peter and said, “Untie her and get her whatever she wants.” He looked at you as he said, “No cars, horses, or dogs.”

Then he left the room. Leaving you speechless, and very much wet.

—

Peter, you learnt, was one of Bucky’s assistants. Whatever Bucky asked him to do, he did. That included sending a group of mean looking men out to shop for all that you had written down on your ‘Requirements’ list.

He showed you to your requested room and promised your stuff will be here before the end of the day. And sure enough, by the time the sunset everything you had asked for was brought to you.

You squealed when you entered the closet, excited to put away all your new things. Clothes, accessories, bags, shoes, toiletries, makeup, skin care products, and more.

Peter came by again in the evening, bringing you dinner and said, “Boss said he’d see you in his office tomorrow morning at eight. Don’t be late, please. He hates it when people aren’t punctual.”

You’d be lying if you said the mention of Bucky didn’t immediately remind you of what he said earlier about you being on his lap and… ugh. Damn him.

For the first time in a long time, you went to bed with a full belly that night. And you squealed again when you got in the comfy bed, freshly showered and moisturised. As you drifted off to sleep, feeling weirdly warm and safe, you forgot all about your meeting with Bucky the next morning, and how you needed to be up early for it.

—

Bucky couldn’t sleep that night. So much had happened in such a short time. One moment he was having a quiet, calm day of golfing with Sam, and the next he got a phone call from his security guys that his mansion had been broken into.

He went from spending a rare day off with his best friend, to having a sassy, drop dead gorgeous thief in his guest room. He sighed, sipping on his whiskey, holding the phone to his ear as he looked out of his bedroom window.

“Oh, I know that sigh of defeat.” Sam laughed through the phone. “Is she really that pretty that you couldn’t even use your brain?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. And here he thought calling Sam to complain about everything was a good idea. Of course the latter would only make fun of him. In fact, he thought, maybe Sam would team up with you and you two would make fun of him together.

“Shut up, Sam. I’m serious.” Bucky sighed again, “She pisses me off but at the same time… I don’t know. This girl has been living like a fugitive since she was a kid. I looked up the relatives she ran from, her uncle and aunt, and honestly, anyone would run from them. God knows what kind of messed up shit she’s witnessed and been through her whole life.”

Sam was quiet, listening.

Bucky continued. “You know the bushes near the entrance? She hid there for days. Days, Sam! Through the rain, and cold nights all just so she could study the guards’ movements. She probably didn’t eat that whole time. Who knows when’s the last time she had a warm meal? She’s so resilient. And strong. But so sassy, and the way she runs that mouth it makes you want to-,”

Bucky exhaled, exasperated. And continued.

“She has that look in her eyes, you know?” Bucky thought back to earlier when he first saw you. “Life hasn’t been kind to her. She has really sad eyes. Like she was forced to grow up and take care of herself. I couldn’t…” Bucky trailed off, “I couldn’t just let her go back to living like that. Go ahead, make fun of me for it.” He sighed. “She’s gonna be really useful to me.” He stated. “You remember last year? When I was ambushed by Roger’s men? Something of mine was stolen then, and I’m gonna get it back using her.” Bucky already had a plan made. “I needed a skilled thief anyway. I mean she managed to break into my house, that means she actually is really good. She could even lead some of my guys when they go-” Bucky stopped talking and asked, “Are you even listening?”

Sam chuckled, “I am, I am. It’s just rare to see you admire someone like this. Who knew big bad Bucky could be so soft? You better let me win next time we’re golfing, otherwise I’m telling everyone that you have a crush on the thief.”

Bucky groaned, “What is this? What are we, children? I do not like her like that, alright? I’m about a decade and a half older than her. And she won’t stop reminding me of it.”

Sam laughed again. “Oh I like her already. Anyway, have fun with your crush and tell me how it goes.”

“Goodbye, you asshole.” Bucky ended the call and shook his head at the thought of what Sam said. A crush? On a thief? No way.

As he made his way to his study room, Bucky couldn’t help but pause outside the guest room in which you slept. He could hear soft snores coming from within. Something in him felt satisfied that you were able to sleep soundly here, not having to find vacant places to break into. He wanted to keep it that way.

Why? He didn’t know. Whatever it was, Sam was wrong.

As he sat at his desk in his study room, Bucky tried to get work done but he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Something about you was different. Bucky never trusted people this easily, let alone allow them into his home.

That reminded him of something… Bucky found the list that Peter had left on his desk. The list of Requirements, as you called it. And as he read all the things his men had to go out and buy earlier, Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. He hadn’t laughed like this in a long time.

Oh this could be fun. Bucky couldn’t wait for your meeting the next morning. At eight sharp.

—

When you woke up, the sun was in your face. But you hadn’t felt so warm and comfy in a long, long time so you relished the feeling. You let out a yawn, opening your eyes slowly. And you found yourself looking right at a rather pissed off Bucky standing at the end of the four-poster bed, with his hands in his pockets.

All black suit, perfect hair, and those blue eyes…

“Oh hi,” You said, taking your sweet time as you sat up in bed. “Good morning.”

“It’s two in the afternoon.” Bucky hissed. “Who sleeps in for that long? You and I had a meeting at eight this morning. I was waiting.”

You yawned again. “I’m sorry, this bed is really, really comfy.” You said, as if that was a decent excuse. “Maybe you shouldn’t have put such nice beds in your guest rooms if you didn’t want your guests to sleep in.”

Bucky closed his eyes for a moment, looking like he was trying very hard to contain his annoyance. “You are not a guest. You work for me. So when I tell you to meet me in my office at eight, I want you there.”

You smirked, peeling off the covers and slowly crawling over to the end of the bed where he stood. You knelt on the bed right in front of him, “Oh? You want me?” You teased, knowing he would snap at any moment now.

You remained kneeling on the bed as his metal hand reached out and wrapped around your throat, squeezing just a little. The smirk on your face stayed in place this time, only pissing him off even more. “Watch your mouth, little thief.” He said.

“Or what? You’ll spank me till I… what was it you said?” You repeated his words from the day before, “Till I cry, or come. Or both?” He remained quiet. His hand tightened around your throat, choking you a little bit more. You couldn’t help but whisper, “Jokes on you, I’m into this shit.”

Bucky let go of you immediately. You laughed in his face as he shook his head and shoved his hand in his pocket again.

“Get out of bed and get ready. Meet me in my office in half an hour.” He ordered and turned to leave.

“But I’m hungry,” You said right before he could walk out of the door. “You can’t treat your guests like this, you have to feed me.”

Bucky refrained from groaning. “Fine,” He said, turning to look at you over his shoulder. His broad shoulder. “I’ll have someone bring up some food for you. Now hurry up, don’t be fucking late again.” He barked.

—

Bucky was embarrassed to admit to himself that his hands were shaking as he left your bedroom and walked to his study room. Fuck, less than twenty-four hours and you already had such a bizarre effect on him.

Bucky shut the door behind him, and closed his eyes to find some kind of composure. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The sight of you in those black satin shorts and that tight, excuse of a top… fuck. The sight of you so comfortable in bed had messed him up so much he’d gripped you by the throat like an animal.

He was grateful you didn’t seem to notice the hardness in his pants. He needed to get a grip. How the hell was he supposed to boss you around if this is what a brief interaction was doing to him.

He sat at his desk and waited. And about twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door. It was one of the housekeepers with a tray of breakfast food. Bucky waited some more and after a short while, there was another knock at his door. Before he could even open his mouth to say something, you walked in.

Bucky’s heart skipped a beat. Just who allowed you to look this good? You were glowing after a good night of sleep. You looked incredible in your little sundress. Bucky watched as you took a seat on the other side of his desk before he even asked you to. The smell of your body wash and perfume drifted over to him, and he was almost salivating.

He kept watching as you moaned in delight when you took your first sip of coffee, then your first bite of warm croissant.

“Glad to see you’re enjoying your breakfast at,” He checked his watch, “almost three in the afternoon,” He spoke, finally. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to discuss your position here in my house and as my employee.”

You scoffed through a mouthful of some kind of pastry. You swallowed it with a sip of coffee and said, “So formal, my god. Just tell me where to go, what to steal and I’ll do it, no need to be so poetic about it.”

Bucky sighed. “I don’t need you to steal anything at the moment. There is something, but the time isn’t right. I will let you know when it is. But as of now, I have other plans for you.”

You frowned at him as you finished your breakfast. “Okay… I’ll do them under one condition.”

“Enough with your conditions.” Bucky hissed.

Despite his warning, you continued, “There’s this old, abandoned apartment complex,” You said, grabbing a pen and a sheet of paper from his desk like it was your own, scribbling something down, “I have some stuff hidden in there that I need. Not much, just two boxes. I know you won’t let me go but could you have someone go get it for me, please?”

Bucky looked down at the address and apartment number written on the paper. “What stuff?” He asked.

“Just stuff I’ve stolen over the years.”

He scoffed, “But you have everything you need here.”

You nodded, “Some of the things are… priceless.”

Bucky nodded. “Fine. I’ll have someone go get it. Now, about your role here. You’re gonna start training with the guys tomorrow.”

You frowned, “I’m a thief, I don’t need exercise.” You argued.

“No,” He said, calmly as he leaned back into his chair. “But you need to learn how to fight, how to use a gun, a knife, self defence, how to be part of a team and all that.”

Okay. Things got very real. You stayed quiet and nodded.

“Can you drive?”

You shook your head.

“I’ll have someone teach you.”

You shrugged. “So, no stealing for now. Only training like I’m going to battle. Anything else?” You asked.

“Yes, actually.”

–

About an hour later, you stood in the middle of what Bucky called your new workstation. You looked around the spacious room, impressed. It looked a lot like a lab, with every equipment a thief could ever need, even some new tech that you yourself weren’t familiar with. Weapons, trinkets, everything.

“So you want me to teach your guys how to steal using this stuff.”

“I want you to teach them necessary skills.” Bucky corrected. “Strategies. How to be observant. How to pick locks, how to be discreet, how to be invisible and hide for days, how to use a narrow, fourteen-second window to infiltrate a secure place. Whatever else you can teach. Minus the stealing.”

You smirked, leaning against your new desk. “So you like what I do, huh?”

Bucky ignored that. “Don’t cause any trouble.” He said. “I’m paying you to do a good job here.”

You looked around again, not able to fight the genuine smile that formed on your face. “It’s like paying a kid to be at the playground.” You smirked, looking at him with determination in your eyes, and some mischief. “I’m gonna have so much fun here with my new friends.”

“Do not hurt my guys, I need them.”

—

The next couple of weeks went by rather quickly. You woke up each day, excited for a change. No more having to be constantly on the run, no more having to steal for food, clothes, or find shelter. You had more time to live now, not just survive.

Plus you had the lab. It was your favourite place ever. Surrounded by gadgets and tech you didn’t know could exist, weapons that you were starting to get the hang of, and Bucky’s guys that you used as if they were your test subjects – you actually had fun each day.

The dynamic between you and Bucky changed too. And it all started the day after he first showed you your new lab…

“My guys have your stuff from the old apartment. It’s in my office, come get it.” He spoke through the phone – your new phone – ordering you to come collect your stuff.

You almost ran out of your room and to his office. When you got there, the two boxes were placed nicely on one side of his desk. A cardboard one, and the other one was a medium sized metal code-lock box. He stood behind the desk, watching you.

“As requested,” He pointed at the two boxes, “Your stuff.” He paused, then said, “Open them.”

You froze. “Uh, what?”

Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets. “If I’m gonna allow you to keep your stolen goods in my house, I should know what they are. Now come on, open the boxes. I need to check them.”

You walked into the room, shutting the door behind you. As you approached the desk, you tried to find a way out of this. “You don’t need to. They’re nothing. Just things I’ve collected over the years.”

Bucky gave you the usual, handsome poker face. “Would you like me to open them?”

“No,” You said quickly. You rushed to the cardboard box, opening it to let him see the contents. “See? Just books I’ve stolen from everywhere.” You explained as he looked inside the large box filled with old and new books.

“Now the other one.” He said, eyeing the metal box.

“That one has… um, personal things.” You said. “You don’t need to see all that.”

Bucky walked around the desk, stopping only when he was inches away from you. He leaned a little close to your ear and whispered, “I have received bills of all the things you made my guys buy recently. Some of the bills explicitly listed each and every piece of lingerie and underwear you ordered, including a certain little red thong you’re possibly wearing right now.” He said, making you shiver. “And now you wanna talk about boundaries?”

You pulled away to look at him, seeing the proud triumph in his eyes. “Fine.” You refused to let him win this one. You reached for the box, unlocked it, opened the lid and waited. Bucky was quiet. Too quiet. “Say something.” You whispered, “This is very awkward.”

Finally he did.

“Get on the desk.” He said. You froze again and seeing that you weren’t moving he leaned in to whisper into your ear, “I said, get on the desk. If I’m gonna allow you to keep all of these toys, then I better test their… effectiveness as well.”

You avoided his eyes, focusing on the top buttons of his shirt as you asked, “What kind of rule is that?”

“My kind.” He replied. “Now get on the desk. Legs up and spread them so I can see exactly what I have to deal with.”

Fuck.

You sat up on the desk, feeling just a little coy as you lifted your legs up and placed them on the edge of the desk, spreading your knees as far as they would go so he could look at you down there.

Bucky scoffed. “See? There’s that red thong.” He pulled his metal hand out of his pocket, placing it on your inner thigh, slowly inching upwards. His cold fingers lazily teased your clit, then slid down to inspect your wet folds. He pulled the thong to the side and mindlessly dragged a metal finger up and down your slit, making you shiver and moan as he touched you.

You let out a quiet whimper which made him groan.

You looked down in between your thighs, his hand teasing you like it was the most casual thing. You sheepishly looked up and into his piercing, icy blue eyes that were already staring at you. You couldn’t look away.

“Which one’s your favourite?” He asked. And it took you a little while to realise that he was referring to the pile of sex toys in the metal box.

“The, uh… the vibrator.” You answered. Your face got all hot but you refused to seem embarrassed.

Bucky smirked, pulling his hand away to reach for the vibrator. Light pink wand with a bulbous head. Bucky looked at it, then at you. He looked down at your wet folds and spat before turning the wand on and pressing it right on your clit. His spit helped the toy to move around better as he circled your clit with it, before moving it up and down your slit.

You couldn’t help but moan and gasp as you felt the familiar pressure forming in between your legs, and you involuntarily bucked your hips against the vibrator, trying desperately to chase your orgasm. Of course Bucky noticed, and he scoffed as he lifted the vibrator off you, denying you your release.

“No,” You whined, closing your eyes and tilting your head back, “Please…” You begged.

“Look at me,” he said, softly. You looked back at him as his other hand wrapped around your throat. Bucky leaned in enough so that his lips brushed against yours when he spoke. “You will come when I allow it, you hear me?

You nodded immediately.

“Good girl.” He said as he placed the vibrator back against your core. You felt the vibrations all over your body, as you stared into his icy blue eyes. He moved the toy around a little more before lifting it off you again, turning it off this time. “You can take your books and go now, this box stays with me.”

He put the vibrator back safely, shutting the box.

You closed your legs, hopping off of his desk. “What do you mean it stays with you? You can’t just… just steal my toys!” You frowned at him, pissed.

Bucky gave you an annoying smirk. “Yes I can. Now whenever you need a toy, you can come ask for it. If I feel like it, I’ll let you have it.”

Bastard.

You left his office angrily that afternoon. And vowed never to beg for any of the toys in that box. Let him have it. Screw him, right?

Wrong.

You couldn’t sleep that night. Your fingers didn’t relieve you as much as the vibrator would have. And that’s how you found yourself swallowing your pride and knocking on his office door. The lights were on so you figured he’d still be in there.

“Come in.” He said and you could already hear the smirk in his voice.

You opened the door, walked in and shut it behind you. “I need it.” You said, looking at him as he lounged on the couch near his desk.

“Need what?” He asked, acting oblivious as he placed his drink down and pretended to be confused.

You rolled your eyes at him. “The vibrator. Please.”

He leaned back on the couch, with a playful smirk on his face. “Oh I put it in the trash. I put all of them in the trash.”

You blinked. It took a moment for the anger to surface. You took a step towards the couch. “Do you know what I had to do in order to rob that sex store? I had to fight the guy who was closing up for the day. With a baseball bat! And you know the worst part? He was one of my ex flings!”

Bucky let out a chuckle.

“Don’t just sit there and laugh! What am I supposed to do now?”

He gave you a mischievous look and said, “Come here.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and stood there in the middle of his office. “No.”

“Keep being a brat and I will drag you here by your hair if I have to.” He raised an eyebrow at you. “Try me.” And those words had you moving towards him at once.

You reached the couch where he was sitting and stood in front of him. “Now what?”

“Get on my lap.”

You rolled your eyes, refusing to show how his words and tone made you want to drop to your knees and take him in your mouth instead. “You’re such a disgusting, old, pervert who just wants to-,”

He cut you off by pulling you into his lap and grabbing you by the throat. His metal hand squeezed your throat just enough to make you whimper. “What did I say about you and your smart mouth? Hmm?” Then he scoffed and said, “Right, I forgot you’re into this shit.” He squeezed your throat a little more. “If I reached down there, would I find that you’re completely wet and ready for me?”

You whimpered again, instinctively grinding on his lap. He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Look at you,” He murmured. “You won’t need your toys now,” He said, “If you need to come, you ask for my cock. Understood?”

You nodded immediately.

He smirked. “Now, will you be a good girl and fuck yourself on daddy’s cock or what?”

You whined, nodding, “Please…”

Bucky couldn’t help but lean in for a kiss then. All your whimpering was too much for him to handle and he couldn’t take it anymore.

You kissed him back, allowing him to almost tear your PJs off of your body. You only pulled away from the kiss to say, “We need a condom. I’m not on birth control.”

Bucky nodded, reaching to pull a condom out of his pocket. “Remind me about the birth control thing tomorrow.”

You watched as he undid his trousers and put the condom on. The moment it was on, Bucky pulled you in for a kiss again. He helped you as you lifted up and then slowly lowered yourself down on his hard cock.

You couldn’t look away as he held your stare. You both gasped and moaned as you finally sank down on him. Your body resisted just a little to fit him inside at first. Bucky felt it too, and an arrogant smirk formed on his face as he grabbed your hips in place and gently thrust his hips up, filling you up.

You moaned out loud as he did. “Fuck, you feel good, little thief.” He whispered.

Once he was buried deep inside you, you leaned in to kiss him again while lifting your lower body just the slightest, before sliding back down on his cock, you whimpered as he groaned, filling you up and being all snug inside of you.

“Oh fuck,” He swore again, “You feel so tight around daddy’s cock.”

The tip of his cock reached places you never knew existed. You whimpered, whining in pleasure as you took a good look at the man beneath you. He oozed power, manspreading on the couch with you on his cock.

You moved faster then, impaling yourself down on his cock each time. You whimpered shamelessly as you felt him filling you up completely each time, feeling him reach deeper into you with each thrust. His hand slipped between the two of you and found your clit, he rubbed it lazily. Grunting and moaning under his breath as you sped up even more, riding his cock and making him lose his damned mind.

“You have such a perfect little cunt…” He said, “It’s all mine now.”

You were whimpering and whining yourself as you took more and more of him. But you couldn’t help but tease him, “And here I thought mixing business with pleasure was a bad thing.”

Bucky playfully slapped your thigh. “I make the rules here. From now on, mixing business with pleasure is a very good idea.”

You leaned down to kiss him, biting down and tugging at his bottom lip while you sped up, and his cock stretched you out each time he filled you up. “Fuck,” You whined.

His hand circled around your waist and he pulled your warm body closer to his. He was still very much clothed, except for his cock being out and buried inside you. Meanwhile your PJs were on the floor, leaving you completely naked on his lap. Something about that contrast made it even hotter.

“Beg.” He said, “I want to hear you beg me to let you come.”

You bounced on his cock moaning and whining, feeling him stretch you out as you stared into his blue eyes.

“Please daddy,” You whimpered, “Please, can I come?”

Bucky held you at your waist and rhythmically thrust his hips up each time to match your movements. “Hold on, just a little,” He panted against your cheek, kissing the side of your face and gripping your jaw with his hand. “Just a little,” He whispered, “Wait for me.”

“Please… I can’t,” You didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, and he kept thrusting his hips up into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came, hard, feeling your walls squeezing and clenching around him as you came undone. You panted and leaned forward, pushing your face into his neck to catch your breath.

Bucky came right after you, his warm load spilling inside of you, filling you up as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed your trembling body closer to him.

“I’m sorry,” You said as you caught your breath. “I’ll wait next time.”

Bucky laughed. “It’s alright. You were still such a good girl for daddy.” He murmured.

—

That night changed everything.

Ever since, each time you annoyed Bucky he would just fuck you against the nearest surface. Safe to say you began to annoy him even more.

But he could also be kind sometimes. For instance this one time when he found you in the library:

You were lounging on a sofa, reading when he walked in silently.

“Winter’s tale?” He surprised you with both his literary knowledge and presence.

You peaked at him from behind your book and said, “Leontes is such a cunt. Quite like you sometimes.”

Bucky ended up fucking you right there on the sofa. And then promised to get you your own bookshelf in the library because he didn’t like the way you stuffed your books among his on the current shelves. It’s messy and immature, he said. Grown ups don’t keep their books like this, he said.

Bucky could also be so confusing at times. Like how he would always treat you like the thing between the two of you was just a casual fling. But then he would get jealous whenever he saw you getting too close to any one of his guys while you trained with them.

“I will be overseeing your training from now on. No need to join the guys in the morning.” He said out of nowhere when you joined him for dinner in the dining room one night.

“Why?” You asked.

“Because you distract them too much with your shenanigans. Constant flirting, walking around in your little workout outfits, all that needs to stop.” He spoke, avoiding your eyes.

You smirked. “So we’re gonna be early morning workout buddies from now on?”

He sighed, “Don’t make me regret this.”

You chuckled, “Oh you will regret this.”

He did. But in the best ways. So each morning workout either started or ended with a nice fuck sesh.

—

You were at your workstation one morning when Bucky walked in with a serious look on his face.

You’d just seen him a couple of hours ago for your ‘workout’ so you wondered why he was back. Usually he left you alone for most of the day, only finding his way back to your bed late at night. So this was unusual.

“What’s going on? Why do you look like you want to murder someone?” You asked as he stood right in front of you with an earpiece in hand.

“Put this on.” He said.

You did as he asked. And waited.

Bucky grabbed his phone, walking to one of the nearest screens and a few taps later, you were looking at the live feed of some kind of body cam.

“What’s this?” You asked. Just then, you began hearing muffled voices coming from the earpiece.

Bucky turned to you. “My guys are… retrieving something of mine from a secret location. I need you to guide them.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, is this it? Is this the thing you needed me for?”

Bucky’s face gave away nothing. “Just do as you’re told.”

You nodded, quickly looking back at the screen. “Who’s leading them?” You asked.

Someone’s muffled voice replied from the earpiece. “Thor is.”

You nodded, looking at the screen. “Right. How could I miss those biceps that are bigger than my head?” You said.

Bucky smacked you on the butt and said, “Focus.”

“I am, I am. I got this.”

Anf for the next few minutes, you led the men through whatever maze of a building they were in. You found the location within seconds and managed to have a blueprint of the place. You warned them of the cameras, told them when to move and when not to. You instructed Thor how to pick an ancient looking lock that led them into an even bigger maze. But you did everything right, used the right strategies, the right tricks up your sleeves, and you managed to get the guys out of there safely, with the mystery package they stole.

Once they were out in the clear and confirmed that they were on their way home, you turned to Bucky and asked, “How did I do?” You waited eagerly for his response.

Bucky just smirked and said, “Good. You passed the test.”

Your smile faded fast. “What? What test?”

Bucky explained, “The guys weren’t actually out stealing shit. I just wanted to see how you would do in a situation like that. And you did great. Congratulations, little thief.”

He turned to walk away but you called out. “You know, I deserve a nice gift for being so amazing.”

“Do you now?” He asked, not turning around.

“Yes, I want a dog!”

Bucky paused at the door. “No.” He said and left.

“Please, daddy…” You pouted.

“No.”

Oh well, it was worth a try.

—

The next morning, you woke up and got ready for yet another day of annoying Bucky. However, when you stepped out of your bedroom door, you noticed something outside your door.

It was a basket. And inside it slept two puppies, two of the fluffiest little balls of fur you’d ever seen. Once the shock passed, you began tearing up immediately.

You picked up the basket as slowly as you could and made your way to Bucky’s bedroom. You walked in without knocking. And there he was, standing in the middle of the room, getting ready for the day, buttoning his black shirt, casually looking like a god. Once he saw you, his playful smirk showed itself.

“So, how do you like-,” He stopped talking the moment the first tear fell down your cheek. His smirk disappeared. “What is it?” He asked.

You carefully placed the basket down, the puppies inside it sleeping soundly. Then you rushed to Bucky, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

Bucky hugged you back instantly, though confused concerning your reaction. Out of all things, he didn’t expect this. “Hey, what’s going on?” He asked, softly.

You sniffled, hiding your face in his chest. “I was thirteen when I ran from my uncle and aunt’s house.” You said, voice muffled. “And they had dogs so I grew up with them. But when I took off to be on my own, I couldn’t have a dog because I could barely take care of myself.” You sniffled again. “And it’s hard being without animals when you grew up around them, you know?” You let more tears wet his shirt. “Thank you,” You said, finally.

Bucky held you as your shoulders shook with your sobs. He placed a gentle kiss on your temple and whispered, “Oh baby, I’ve got you now.”

You pulled away to look at him, both of you ignoring the patch of wetness your tears left on his grey shirt. “You got me two puppies.”

Bucky smiled down at you. “You deserve it.”

You sniffled, “You’re being nice, what do you want?”

“Nothing,” He rolled his eyes, “Now get out of here.”

You stayed put. “I can’t. I have to make it even.”

“Yeah?” Bucky raised an eyebrow at you. “How?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, let me suck your-,”

He cut you off by pulling you closer, a hand wrapped around your throat already. “You are very tempting right now, in your little red dress. And if you don’t want want me to tear it off right this instant, I’d suggest you-,”

You cut him off this time, “Who said I don’t want you to tear it off?” You asked with a smirk.

Bucky sighed before pushing you down on his bed. “I’ve got a busy day ahead.” He said, looking down at you as he hovered above you, “But you don’t care about that, do you?”

You giggled, shaking your head. “Not one bit.” You said, running your hands over his chest and his strong shoulders.

He smirked, giving in. He leaned in for a brief kiss while he pulled your dress up and placed both his hands on either one of your knees and separated your legs, settling in between them.

Your heart raced in anticipation. His hand slowly dragged your thin underwear down your legs and threw it around somewhere behind him as he inched his face closer to your already dripping core.

“Such a fucking brat.” He mumbled and brushed his soft lips along your inner thighs, making you giggle and moan quietly under your breath.

“Shut up, admit it. You’re obsessed with me.” You sassed, then moaned out loud when you felt his warm tongue lick from your entrance up to your clit. You felt a familiar rush in your veins. Fuck he was addicting.

Your hands grabbed fistfuls of his hair, tugging on it as his mouth teased you. His tongue slowly circled around your clit, earning more moans out of you as your back arched off the bed. His bed, you realised. This was the first time you two were fooling around in his room.

Only now did you realise how it smelt like him. Dark, male, addicting. But most of all, dangerous. Fuck, just his scent made your head all foggy in lust.

Bucky had you squirming, moaning, a complete mess under him in no time. “I love seeing you like this,” He said, kissing your inner thighs, “Too busy moaning for me to run that smart mouth.”

You couldn’t answer as your legs trembled around his head, he locked his arms around your thighs and pushed his tongue deeper into you, making you cry out of pleasure.

“See what I mean?” He chuckled, “I bet you want to say something sassy so bad right now, but you can’t.” He playfully bit you before sucking on your clit. “Daddy’s tongue has you all tongue-tied, huh princess?”

You cried out. “Please… please daddy,” You whined.

With a proud smirk, a look of determination in his pretty blue eyes, and a couple more strokes of his tongue, he had you gushing out all over his tongue, lapping up all that you gave him. While you moaned and squirmed on his bed as he sucked on your sensitive clit until you calmed down.

You kept your eyes shut as you caught your breath, feeling him leave small kisses all over your thighs.

When you opened your eyes again, his face was right above yours. His devious blue eyes looking down into your wide open ones. You were certain all he saw in your eyes was hunger. For him.

“I want you,” You whispered, sliding your hands into his hair. “Now.” You demanded.

“Brat.” He hissed when you tugged on his hair.

You smiled. “Pretty sure it’s princess.” You teased.

“A bratty fucking princess then.” He didn’t give you a chance to sass back as he leaned in for a deep kiss, holding himself up with one hand as he quickly undid his trousers. You helped, pulling his cock out and stroking it. Bucky moaned into the kiss as you did, and the sound of it sent shivers down your back.

You gasped, and whined into the kiss as he carefully slid into you, filling you up entirely, inch by inch. Stretching you out deliciously like he did all the time. Bucky wasted no time, he pulled out and pushed back into you, making you moan into the kiss each time until the makeout turned lazy and messy, filled with gasps and moans.

You noticed he wasn’t being as ravenous as usual. He was… trying to be gentle with you.

Indeed he was. Your heart skipped a beat when Bucky laced your fingers together and pinned both your hands above your head as he sped up just a little into you. He was groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you slowly, and you were unable to focus on anything other than him.

His hips rolled against your body perfectly, and his body weight pressing down gently on you was comforting. His grip around your hand tightened each time you’d moan his name out loud.

“That’s it, princess.” He whispered against your open mouth, “Tell me who’s making you feel this good. Who’s fucking you, huh?”

You kept whimpering his name over and over again as he fucked you nice and slow, kissing his way down your face, from your collar bones to down your chest. And you cried out when he took a nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue.

You opened your eyes as he pulled away to look down at you, his lips soft and pink and parted as he breathed rapidly, fucking into you a bit faster.

Something shifted in that moment, you weren’t sure what. But something changed.

His brows furrowed as he tried so hard to hold back and make you come before he did. “Fuck,” He swore. “Come for me.” He smirked and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Come for daddy, princess.”

You felt the pressure building in between your hips as he sped up even more, his metal hand reached down and grabbed your hip gently, keeping you in place as he sped up into you. Your bodies moved perfectly against each other.

Bucky pushed his face into you and nuzzled your neck as he growled in pleasure. With a few more strokes of his cock, you came undone, moaning and whimpering under him, grinding against him hungrily while he came right after, filling you up again.

He stayed there, limp on top of you for a brief moment, before he slid off of you and laid down beside you. He caught his breath while you blinked rapidly, trying to calm your racing heart and figure out what the hell just happened.

Before the awkward silence settled in completely, you got up on shaky legs and fixed your dress. “Well, this has been fun. I gotta go feed my new kids now. See you later.” You grabbed the puppy basket and almost ran out of his bedroom.

As you shut the door, you heard him laughing to himself. A boyish, carefree laugh that made you smile.

—

With your new dogs, training, your lab, more training, days flew by.

Whatever Bucky had planned, whatever big heist you were supposed to carry out, you knew it was coming soon.

You often wondered what would happen once you successfully stole whatever he intended for you to steal. You didn’t even know what it was yet. Must be something precious either way, if all this planning went into it. But what after that? Would you no longer work for Bucky then?

Would this… whatever it was between the two of you that both of you absolutely refused to acknowledge – no matter how much Sam teased you both for it – would it all end?

You were lost in thoughts of all this when you found yourself mindlessly making your way to Bucky’s office one evening. Your two dogs, loyally in tow.

You found Bucky in an equally sour mood as you, sulking at his desk with a drink.

You shut the door behind you, leaving the dogs outside as you made your way to Bucky. He looked up at you and silently patted his lap. You made yourself comfortable on his thighs, an arm around his neck as you leaned in and nuzzled his cheek. His stubble rough against your nose and cheek.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, ��What has you looking like an evil god plotting the end of mere mortals who are standing in the way of you dominating the world?”

He chuckled at that. “You are so annoying you should be grateful at least you’re pretty to look at.” He mumbled, taking a sip of whatever was in his glass. You assumed it was whiskey.

You couldn’t help the laugh that left your lips. But then you noticed that distant look in his eyes. Unfortunately, you were very good at reading people. You leaned in and kissed his cheek softly.

“What is it?”

He let out a sigh. “You never ask me what I’m keeping you around for.”

You shrugged. “You said you’d tell me when it’d be the right time. I’m just waiting, I guess. You told me about Rogers and his men and how they stole something from you. The details aren’t necessary, whatever it is, I’ll get it back. I promise.”

Bucky placed his glass down and turned to look at you. His metal arm held you securely on his lap. “It’s my mother’s ring.” He said. “The ring has been in our family for generations. All the men propose to their women with it.” He paused, then added, “I have nothing left of hers. Just the ring.”

Damn. Well. You would have never guessed that. A family heirloom? Why would Rogers tell his men to steal that? How would he even know to steal that?

You began to ask just that. “How did-,”

Bucky answered before you could even finish your question. “Steve, Sam, and I used to be friends. I always thought we’d be friends till the very end. But then Steve went rogue, power got to his head.”

Shit. No wonder Bucky and Sam were so close, they survived the downfall of a strong trio.

“I’m sorry.” You murmured, gently stroking his cheek. “I’ve never had close friends like that, I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose them. But I can tell it makes you really upset.” You pointed out. Then you took a deep breath and said, “I’ll get your mom’s ring back. And I will even kick Steve for you if you ask me to.”

Bucky gave you a faint smile.

“Just get the ring back.” He said, staring deep into your eyes. “I need it.”

Oh? The thought of him on one knee, asking someone to marry him was surprisingly uncomfortable. But you pushed all that aside.

“So when do I go?”

—

Another week later, the plan was ready. Bucky’s men were ready. You were ready.

You had the location, had studied the blueprint very well. You’d be in contact with Bucky the whole time through the earpiece. Steve was rumoured to be out of town. His guards would not be expecting the heist. This was perfect.

Or so you thought. The moment you got near Steve’s house, a gut feeling told you something was off. And you must’ve mumbled something to yourself because Bucky’s voice came through the earpiece just then.

“I’ll say it again. The moment you sense something wrong, fall back. Do you hear me?” He used the cold, bossy tone.

You scoffed and replied, “Yes daddy.”

A few of the guys chuckled around you. And you could hear Bucky sighing as you giggled to yourself.

You noticed the guards getting ready to move, the typical security rotation. You looked behind you and whispered to the guys, “We have exactly twelve seconds to make it past the gates. Don’t be too loud, and follow me. If you can’t make it, stay back here and keep watch. Everyone understood?”

They all nodded silently.

“Okay… now!”

Not all of the guys could make it. Some had to stay back because the twelve-second window was too short for everyone to beeline through the gates.

But the group of you that made it past the gates and into Steve’s house were in for a big surprise. It was a trap, Steve wasn’t home but his people had been waiting for you.

What was meant to be a clean heist ended up in a crossfire.

You could hear Bucky barking orders through the earpiece. “Fall back! Now!”

You almost did… but fuck you were so close. So close. That was when you took the earpiece off and tucked it into the pocket of your cargo pants. He may have been right, but the adrenaline was too much to resist. You’d missed this feeling, this rush of being so close to danger, to being caught…

So you went for it.

Walked deeper into the trap.

You knew where the ring was kept, you had the little box in your hand. You didn’t have time to see what it looked like as you put it away in your pocket, along with the earpiece that Bucky surely was still screaming through.

And then. The room exploded.

Then there was nothing. Just ringing in your eyes, and blurry images in front of you. You coughed, gasping for air and all you got were dust in your lungs.

You faintly remember hands reaching for you, dragging you, trying to get you to walk. But your body did not cooperate. It refused to.

You don’t know how much time passed. Or where you were.

You could hear the panic in his voice as you tried your hardest to reorient yourself. Bucky was here? You were lying on the floor somewhere. You couldn’t remember much.

The heist. The ring. A lot of fighting. An explosion.

Ah, an explosion that threw you across the room causing you to collide against a concrete wall.

Your side hurt, badly. Your head throbbed. Your vision was blurry, but at least Bucky was here. He was here, you could hear his rapid footsteps approaching.

“Baby….” His voice sounded distant. “Baby, open your eyes. Please.” He had never sounded so vulnerable. Due to the way your body moved, you assumed you were in a rapidly moving vehicle. “Look at me,” You felt his hands on your face, “Princess, please…” You couldn’t focus too well on what he was saying, “... sorry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… baby, please…”

Then there was just darkness.

And pain.

And a headache that refused to go away.

But you were with Bucky so you gave into the darkness. You knew you were safe now that he was here.

—

When you woke up, you realised you were in Bucky’s room. On his bed. The headache was still here, not as bad as before though.

The room was dimly lit, so you figured it must be well into the evening. The house was quiet, but as you tried to sit up, you heard him.

“Thought you were gonna sleep for two more days.”

You couldn’t help the smirk. “I slept for two whole days?” Then you panicked, looking around, “Where are my dogs?”

“Safe, fed. Sleeping.” Bucky stepped out of the dark corner of the room, but didn’t come any closer. He was quiet for a few moments. Then, “You almost got killed.” He stated, looking like he hadn’t slept in days but no less handsome.

You scoffed. “As if that’s all it would take to kill me. You know, I once fell from two storeys and survived with just a twisted ankle. I’m amazing like that,” You winked at him. “Besides, I did a good job. I managed to get your precious ring,” You went to pat your pocket, only to realise that you were no longer wearing those cargo pants.

Of course, he wouldn’t have left you in those same clothes for two days while you recovered. You looked down under the blanket and you were wearing clean clothes. His clothes. Sweatpants and a t-shirt. The t-shirt smelled like him.

“Looking for this?” He held his hand up and there it was. Prettiest piece of jewellery you’d ever laid eyes on. You could see the big, heavy stone from here. Dark green, black, silver. It looked elegant, and like it was crafted in some fae realm. It was truly unique.

“You changed me.” You pointed out, looking down at the clean clothes.

He gave you the same poker face. “What does it matter? I’ve seen you naked more times than I can count.” He said.

“And you made me wear your clothes.” You gave him a bratty, triumphant look.

He glared at you. “I’m sure my clothes feel more comfortable than those tight little dresses you wear all the time.”

You gasped dramatically, “You mean those tight little dresses you fuck me in all the time?”

That had him walking towards his bed immediately. “Don’t fucking tease me. Not right now, you’re hurt.”

“Aww,” You teased, “You care about me.”

Bucky sat down on the edge of the bed, turning to face you. “I guess I do.” He said, reaching out to touch your face carefully.

You couldn’t look away from him. He was so gorgeous. Even in poorly lit rooms with his face half hidden in shadows, he was the most handsome man you’d ever seen.

He smirked when he noticed you checking him out, “I know I’m pretty, stop drooling.”

You scoffed, shoving on the shoulder. The muscular bastard of course didn’t even move an inch.

“I’m gonna go bring you some food.” He said, taking your hand in his metal one. “You’ve been unconscious for days, you need the energy.” He slid the ring on your ring finger so casually it took you a few moments to realise what he’d just done.

Only when he got up to walk away did reality hit you. Hard. “Wait, what the fuck?” You held your hand up, “What does this mean?”

Bucky gave you a shrug, “Get used to it.”

“Bucky!”

“What?”

You blinked, mouth open, your body frozen in shock. “Did you just… are you for real? I thought the plan was to get the ring back so you could display it in your office and admire it like the deranged villain you try so hard to be.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Change of plans.”

You lowered your eyes, tracing a finger over the big stone on the gothic looking ring. “You can’t marry a thief.”

Bucky sat back down again, taking your chin between his fingers. “Why not? You stole something very precious the day you broke into my home, and this is your punishment now. A life sentence, if you will.”

“What did I steal?”

“My heart.”

You groaned at his cheesiness, leaning in and hiding your face into the crook of his neck. “You bastard.”

Bucky chuckled. “I love you too.”

You were quiet for a moment, breathing in his scent. It grounded you. But then you pulled away and asked, “What about Steve?”

“I’ll deal with him.” Bucky answered, sounding grave and cold. “He hurt my princess,” He said, pulling you closer so much that you were almost on his lap, “I’m gonna kick his ass.”

You giggled, “Well technically he hurt your princess because she broke into his house to steal. Honestly, he had every right to hurt your princess.” You argued.

Bucky smirked, “So you agree? That you’re my princess?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Technically I’m your fiancé but I don’t really care about labels so yeah, I’ll be your princess or whatever.”

He laughed, “Oh you don’t get to be nonchalant about this. I’ll throw a big party, invite the whole city if I want to. And you’re gonna be the centre of attention the whole night, parading around in a pretty dress of my choice, showing off your ring, and telling people how much you’re in love with me.”

You groaned again. “You are insufferable.”

“I love you too, princess.” He repeated, kissing your forehead.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes

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srgntjamesbuckybarnes · 9 months ago

Text

No More Hiding

Summary: When accused of stealing chickens from Mr. Sherman’s farm, Steve brings Bucky to investigate but ends up learning more about his friend’s private life.

Rating: Everyone

Pairing: Alpha Bucky Barnes x Omega Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 900+

A/N: Not Beta'd. Some fluff to counter the angst I posted earlier.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Rogers, get out here now!”

Steve stalked to the front door, jerking the handle with a huff. This wasn’t the first time someone complained about his pack. Most of the humans were against a pack of wolves living so close to their homes. While the humans bared their guns, Steve opted for peace.

“Mr. Sherman,” Steve greeted. “What can I do for you?”

The old man scowled. “A couple of my chickens are missing. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that now, would you?”

Steve frowned, crossing his arms across his chest. Mr. Sherman was an old farmer who lived a few miles down the road. A few chickens went missing here and there over the last month and each time Mr. Sherman paid Steve a visit.

“You should invest in a better chicken coop. I already told you; my pack has nothing to do with your chickens going missing.”

The old man took a large step in Steve’s direction, his finger crooked. “Don’t lie to me. I have proof. There’s prints the size of a wolf’s paw all over the coop.”

Steve was stunned. The first time Mr. Sherman complained, Steve called a pack meeting to settle the tension between the pack and farmer. Each of them swore up and down that they hadn’t stepped a foot onto Mr. Sherman’s property. Steve believed them. He had no reason not to. They had everything they needed.

“Don’t look so surprised. I’ll show you and that brute who’s always stealing my game. If you don’t punish the thief, then I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”

Steve nodded. “I didn’t find anything last time I checked. I’ll bring Bucky by the coop. He’s got the best nose in the pack. If anyone can find the culprit, it’s Bucky.”

Mr. Sherman didn’t spare a word as he turned his back on Steve. His footsteps echoed along the rickety porch steps.

It wasn't much later that Steve confirmed Mr. Sherman was right. The prints in the mud belonged to a wolf. The pack leader examined the paw prints as Bucky looked inside of the chicken coop. Every once in a while, Bucky’s nose would twitch but he never said anything.

“Well?” Mr. Sherman snapped with his hand on his hips.

Steve pondered if a neighboring pack crossed into their territory. That would cause bigger issues.

Bucky brushed past Steve and the farmer on his way out of the chicken coop. “You’re wrong. Must have been a dog. Do any of your neighbors have one?” Bucky casually asked, his hands tucked into the pockets in his jeans.

Steve raised an eyebrow in Bucky’s direction.

Before Mr. Sherman could answer, Bucky headed into the woods separating the farmer’s land from the pack’s home. Steve apologized to Mr. Sherman, then chased after his friend.

“You know who it is, don’t you, Buck.” Steve didn’t need a verbal confirmation. The way Bucky’s eyes focused like they did when he hunted, and his nostrils flared told Steve they were tracking someone. Keeping up with Bucky’s large steps, Steve questioned, “Is it one of ours?”

Bucky grunted, occasionally stopping to sniff a leaf or a branch. “Omega.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “How do you know?”

He made a sharp right, plowing branches in his path. “Smaller prints and sweeter scent.”

The prints made sense to Steve, but he hadn’t smelled anything. Steve hung back and observed the way Bucky stormed the woods like a mad man. That's when realization hit him. It was the only explanation for his best friend's behavior. Bucky Barnes found his omega.

When Steve finally caught up to Bucky, he tread carefully. It didn’t matter. Bucky’s scent alone was strong enough to draw the omega’s attention to the pair.

“Alpha?” The omega pushed herself into a sitting position on the porch. The cabin in the woods wasn’t the most luxurious house, but it was theirs.

Bucky dropped to his knees on the steps below his omega to be eye level with her, to be equal. “It’s me ‘mega.” Bucky muttered, his palm enveloping her cheek. Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into his touch. The moment was short lived when Steve cleared his throat. Y/N’s startled eyes locked on Bucky’s. She knew about Bucky’s pack, but he never brought them around. He never brought her to them either. The couple basked in the idea of it being just the two of them for a while.

Bucky asked, “Someone’s been terrorizing poor Mr. Sherman. Stealing his chickens. Do you know anything about that?”

Y/N knew she’d been caught. She also knew which buttons to press to get her way with her alpha. She tucked her chin into her chest and stared back at Bucky with doe eyes. “Of course not, Bucky.” She batted her lashes.

Containing his laughter, Bucky plucked a feather from Y/N’s hair. Pinching the feather between his fingers, he tossed it over his shoulder toward Steve. Bucky cupped Y/N’s cheeks planting a soft kiss to her lips.

Steve frowned, “She can’t keep stealing Mr. Sherman's chickens. You know if he finds out he’ll have the whole town after us.”

Bucky stood, holding his hand out to help Y/N to her feet. Turning his head to Steve he replied, “I’ll take responsibility for her. She’s my omega. I’ll take care of her.” Turning back to Y/N, he squeezed both of her hands. “Come on ‘mega, no more hiding. Time to take you home.”

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 6 months ago

Note

AHHH hii angel thank you so much for responding to my last request, it was more than perfect!! 💗

idk if you'd do this because it's a very sensitive topic and i don't want to make you feel uncomfortable but i need a little bit of comfort and reassurance since my bday is in like an hour hehe.. but can i have a bucky with a reader who's attempting to lose weight by dieting and working out but it kinda goes downhill (i think you know what I'm hinting at), and she's like a bit insecure and compares herself to models. and bucky finds out and helps her.. and just a bit angsty but turns out very fluffy with cuddles and stuff. you absolutely don't have to write this request if it's too overwhelming, lot's of love, take care! 💗💗💗💗

- 🦢

my love hi!! you’re more than welcome, glad you liked it!! happy belated birthday, hope you had a great day!! I love stuff like this so it’s no problem. sending love, hope you’re well. thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

SMALL CHANGES.

bucky barnes x fem!reader — angst & comfort

word count. 1073

warnings. potentially triggering content? mentions of dieting and working out. might be a hard read for some?

Comparison is the thief of joy.

It's something you've always struggled with, the endless questioning of yourself, picking yourself apart in ways you believe you don't fit in. It's an easy habit to slip into but a difficult one to break out of.

As of late, those feelings resurfaced - finding more and more 'faults' when you put yourself up against others. Models. It was as if you got sucked into a spiral of scrolling through images and doubting yourself, all of it leading to you curled up crying in bed. Always.

No matter how upset you'd be, you'd still find yourself swiping up to see more - feeding that little gremlin in your mind.

And after a little while, you decided you wanted to do something about those feelings - granted the reasoning behind it wasn't coming from a good place, but you'd be bettering yourself, and that's what you originally wanted.

So you changed your routine: waking up before six, secretly squeezing in an hour workout before joining Bucky on his morning runs, coming back home to have breakfast —an apple— then going about your day only to workout again once you get home.

You thought food was the enemy, so you restricted yourself with crazy diets and regimes you hear about in Hollywood. You tried a water cleanse, a juice cleanse, keto, even fasting, but no matter how hard you thought you tried, your efforts would not be enough for what you wanted.

All it left you feeling was tired and crappy. No matter how much you hated your body, your body hated you more for what you were doing to it.

You thought you were being sneaky and secretive in the way you were going about it, but you couldn't be more wrong. Bucky, your boyfriend, knew something was running rampant in your mind: every dismissal of a snack you previously loved, every time he watched you dodge a mirror —or on the contrast of seeing you stare too long in one— all of it only confirming what he had hoped not to be true.

It's a sensitive topic, especially to bring up to a loved one. Bucky knew you weren't going to be forthcoming, so he wanted to take the first step.

You were in your shared bedroom, sorting through your dresser to find a clean pair of workout clothes - all of your others drenched in sweat from your previous workouts.

"Hey, honey?" Bucky calls out, knocking on the ajar door.

You turn around to see his sweet face, your own almost embarrassed from being caught. "Yeah?"

"It's almost dinnertime. What do you say about going to that restaurant downtown? The one you love?" he asks, trying to scope you out.

"I have some stuff in the fridge. I bought a bunch of kale that needs eating before it goes bad," you reply, turning away, redirecting your focus to the clothes in your drawer.

Bucky leaves his spot in the doorframe, instead walking over to take a seat at the foot of the bed - behind from where you stand. "That's not food," he softly shakes his head. "Rabbits eat that. Let's get something good. What about a chicken sandwich? Pizza?"

"It is food," you reply. "Put on some pepper and olive oil, then bake it— it's good," you add, trying to convince him and yourself.

He faintly sighs, resting his elbows on his knees. "No one likes kale."

"Maybe you're not cooking it right," you playfully protest, trying to distract him.

"No, I cook it right," he stands up, walking to stand beside you. "We haven't gone out to eat for a while. I miss spending time with you like that."

You missed it too - far more than you'd ever anticipate. But you didn't want to slip up again. You already had a few times this week and you didn't want to make a habit of it.

"I do, too, but I already ate. Maybe in the week?"

"What did you have?" he asks, craning his neck to look at your face.

You hesitate, not having an answer. "I can't remember."

He exhales weakly, your unknown confirmation making his heart sink. His hand reaches for yours, the act like he was pulling your attention back to him. "That means you haven't eaten," he utters, his tone soft - the meaning behind his words almost scolding.

You feel cornered, and once again, you have no answer for him.

His grip tightens, gently turning you back to him. "You need to eat, honey. Your body needs it... I know what you've been doing."

After hearing something you didn't want to, your stomach drops. Bucky knew.

"I should've said something when I noticed it," he shakes his head, feeling at fault. "You know you can't keep doing what you're doing?"

You nod meekly, avoiding his eyes. You did know that what you were doing was unhealthy, but you wanted to be like them. If they can do it, why can't you?

"Why have you been doing it?" he asks faintly, cocking his neck to meet your gaze.

"Are you telling me off?"

He's quick to shake his head, denying it almost instantly - both his palms reaching to cup your face. "God, no," his soft eyes bore into yours. "Of course not, honey. Never," he reassures, thumbs grazing over your cheeks. "I just want you to look after yourself."

"I do," you hesitate a response, the words delicate - almost inaudible.

"You don't," he mumbles. "The working out, not eating? You're hurting yourself," he pauses. "If you want to change, I can help you. But we'll do it the right way, okay? None of what you've been doing."

All you can do is nod, silently acknowledging your accidental wrongdoings.

"Just small changes," he leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips. "That's all you need, okay?"

"Okay," you faintly smile, agreeing to the help.

"So," he starts, removing the placement on the sides of your face. "We're going to go out for dinner. And you're going to order whatever you want— whatever it is you've been wanting to eat," he pauses, noticing the hesitancy in your expression. "And we're going to order water instead of wine. Small changes."

The thought of ordering a meal you've restricted yourself from is enough to make your smile genuine. The idea of having your lover's support making it all that much easier.

#🦢#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes comfort #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky angst

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brunchable · 13 hours ago

Text

It's not a Meet-𝑪𝒖𝒕𝒆, it's a Meet-𝗨𝗴𝗹𝘆. 《Chapter 3: Kibble Thief. 》

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: It's not a meet-cute, it's a meet ugly, Grumpy Meets ✨️Sunshine✨️, Opposites Attract, Sassy Pet Matchmaker, Enemies-to-Lovers (Lite), Destined to meet again, Bucky is a hidden softie. Summary: Who gets the last Kibble in the grocery store? Rock-Paper-Scissors should settle that. A/N: This story will be OUTSIDE of MCU but Bucky's traits will be mixed comics/mcu. Also this will be updated every FRIDAY(AEST). I hope I tagged everyone? Credits to me for the Banner lmfao. credits to @ khaer for the divider.

The Emporium NYC bustled with the usual morning energy—customers browsing, displays perfectly set up, and staff ensuring everything was running smoothly. You strolled through, heels clicking softly against the polished floor as Lincoln, Maddie, and Rachel trailed behind, taking notes and addressing finer details, from updating store layouts to planning promotional events for the upcoming season. Officially the new CEO, you’d be overseeing each component, ensuring the customer experience was flawless, from aesthetics to the efficiency of operations.

As you rounded a corner, you came to an abrupt stop, causing your small entourage to halt behind you. There, by one of the benches near a fountain, was Bucky. He was crouched down, helping an elderly woman with her shopping bags, his eyes crinkling as he laughed at something she’d said. The sight of him, relaxed and genuinely grinning, made you pause, head tilting in mild fascination.

Bucky was… peculiar. You couldn’t quite pin down why; there was something about the way he carried himself that seemed at odds with the man you’d met—reserved and gruff, yet here he was, all warmth and easy charm. He looked completely at ease, like he belonged in this gentle moment, laughing softly with an elderly stranger.

You stood there, watching him as if trying to solve a puzzle. How could someone be so closed off one moment and so approachable the next?

A hand suddenly waved in front of your face, snapping you back to reality.

“Hey, you okay?” Lincoln asked, raising an eyebrow with a curious look.

“Oh!” You blinked, catching yourself. “Yeah, just… observing,” you replied with a small smile, glancing back at Bucky, who was still chuckling with the elderly woman, completely unaware of his unexpected audience.

After a moment, Bucky stood up, giving the elderly woman a warm smile as he handed her bags back. She patted his arm gratefully, and he gave a small nod before turning around, his gaze sweeping over the bustling mall.

Just as he glanced in your direction, he caught sight of your back as you continued walking, your little group following closely behind. From his angle, all he could see was the silhouette of a well-dressed woman in heels, surrounded by assistants, her focus already directed ahead, purposefully striding through the mall. He raised an eyebrow, thinking for a moment that the figure seemed familiar, but brushed it off.

Bucky continued his stroll, unaware that he’d just missed you by a few paces, each of you none the wiser to the other’s presence.

× × × ×

Back in your office—a space designed with clean lines, muted tones, and an impeccable sense of style—you sat at your desk, but your mind was elsewhere. The memory of Bucky by the fountain lingered, refusing to fade. You twirled a pen between your fingers, the rhythmic motion doing little to refocus your thoughts.

Through the glass wall, you caught sight of Lincoln, busy at his desk just outside. His head was bent over paperwork, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up as he worked. With a small sigh, you picked up the telephone on your desk, dialing his extension. A moment later, Lincoln’s phone buzzed, and he glanced your way before answering.

“Yeah, boss?” he asked, voice carrying just the slightest edge of curiosity.

“Can you come in here for a sec?” you replied, keeping your tone casual.

“Sure,” he said, hanging up before making his way into your office. He closed the door behind him with a quiet click, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the back of the chair opposite your desk. “Something the matter?”

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment before speaking. “You mentioned before that you’re into the Avengers, right?”

Lincoln blinked, looking slightly taken aback by the unexpected question. “Uh… yeah, I guess you could say that. Why?”

You leaned back in your chair, tapping the pen lightly against the armrest. “Is there a guy named Bucky? Perhaps?”

Lincoln’s expression shifted, a look of recognition crossing his features.

“Yeah, there’s definitely a Bucky,” he replied, nodding slowly. “Bucky Barnes—also known as the Winter Soldier. Kind of a big deal, depending on how much of a fan you are.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden enthusiasm. “Go on.”

“He’s Steve Rogers’ best friend and has, uh… kind of a complicated past. He has a bionic arm too—I heard they had to use the mind stone to remove the brainwashing a long time ago so yeah, that’s him—definitely has that ‘badass with a heart of gold’ type.”

Lincoln looked at you, curiosity clearly growing. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, nothing,” you replied, shrugging as casually as possible. “Just curious.”

Lincoln narrowed his eyes suspiciously, crossing his arms as he gave you a skeptical once-over. After a moment, he leaned forward, clearly not about to let it go entirely.

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

You cleared your throat, attempting to change the topic. “So… who do you like better? Bucky or, you know… Captain America?”

Lincoln didn’t hesitate. “Bucky, hands down. He’s cool.” He grinned, adding, “I mean, come on. Vibranium arm—but I don’t think he’s actively working anymore, probably laying low.”

You nodded thoughtfully. “I see… well, thanks for the info.”

With a smirk, Lincoln shrugged, giving you one last curious glance before heading for the door. As he left, you spun your pen between your fingers, lingering in thought for a moment. Finally, with a small sigh, you turned your attention to the computer and typed in Bucky Barnes into the search bar, curiosity getting the better of you.

× × × ×

After a long day at work, you decided to stop by Rhys’ office unannounced. Frustration lingered in your chest; he’d been dodging your calls and texts all day, and the unanswered questions had built a subtle tension you were eager to resolve. As much as you tried to brush it off, a part of you felt that familiar pang of disappointment, wondering if he’d really be there for you this time or if the gala would end up as another solo appearance.

Dressed in a high-waisted pencil skirt and a relaxed-fit blouse tucked neatly in, you’d opted for professional yet effortlessly striking. As you stepped into his office, Rhys’ gaze flickered up, eyebrows lifting as his eyes ran from your heels to the curve of your shoulders, lingering slightly longer than necessary before he met your gaze.

“Hey,” he greeted, leaning back in his chair, a hint of surprise coloring his voice. “Didn’t know you’d be stopping by.”

You gave him a small, tired smile, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe.

“Thought I’d save myself another text,” you replied lightly. “So, will you be coming to the gala next week?”

He sighed, glancing at his computer screen. “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. I’ll try my best, but you know how it is. Busy, busy.”

Before you could reply, you noticed a figure off to the side, stacking a pile of files on a desk across the room. A young woman you didn’t recognize, dressed in a polished but slightly over-eager way. There was something oddly familiar about her—the way she held herself, the slight flicker of recognition as she glanced over at you before quickly averting her eyes.

Turning back to Rhys, you tilted your head, gesturing subtly toward her. “New assistant?” you asked, your tone light but curious.

Rhys glanced over, nodding. “Yeah, that’s Carly. She just started. Great addition to the team, very… efficient.”

Carly offered a polite smile, though her gaze didn’t quite meet yours. The vague familiarity nagged at you, but you pushed it aside, refocusing on Rhys.

“Don’t you think going to the gala with me is a good way to make it up to me?” you asked, keeping your tone light but with an edge.

Rhys sighed, leaning back in his chair, looking almost exasperated. “Baby, we went to dinner, I bought you flowers… I thought we were over that already.”

A flash of irritation sparked within you, but with his employees nearby, you bit your tongue, choosing to keep things civil. Instead, you offered a tight smile.

“Alright. Then just cancel our weekend together,” you said, tone even as you reached for your phone, texting Lincoln to prepare the car. Without waiting for a response, you turned to walk toward the door.

Rhys, visibly frustrated, hurried after you, catching your arm gently but firmly, turning you around to face him.

“Are you seriously going to act like this?” he demanded, his voice low but laced with annoyance.

“Act like what?” you replied, voice steady, but the tension between you was palpable. “Do you not like your own medicine?”

Rhys’ jaw tightened as he released your arm, his gaze hardening. He looked like he wanted to argue but held back, glancing briefly over his shoulder at his employees before forcing a smile.

Rhys let out a frustrated huff, his expression twisting as he tried to maintain his composure. “This is being petty. I have a few deadlines, alright?”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “So do I, and yet I’m going,” you replied, your tone sharp but controlled.

He let out a mirthless chuckle, rubbing a hand over his jaw as if trying to rein in his frustration.

“Look, it’s not the same,” he muttered. “You don’t understand the pressure I’m under right now.”

You shook your head, the familiar sting of disappointment returning.

“No, Rhys. I think you’re the one who doesn’t understand,” you said quietly. “Just—just keep your bare minimum away from me. I want someone who shows up with passion, not just a shrug.”

He opened his mouth, as if to argue, but you were done. Turning on your heel, you strode toward the elevator, leaving him standing in the hallway, his employees glancing away awkwardly, pretending not to notice the heated exchange.

As the elevator doors closed in front of you, you took a steadying breath, focusing on the feeling of moving forward.

× × × ×

The grocery store was surprisingly packed for a weekday evening, but you only had one item left on your list: Figaro’s favorite premium kibble. He definitely knows his social ranks for a feline. After a few minutes of searching, you finally spotted the last bag on the top shelf, wedged annoyingly out of reach. Standing on tiptoe, you stretched your arm, fingers just barely grazing the edge of the bag. No luck.

With a sigh, you jumped a little, just enough to brush the bottom of the bag but not quite enough to grab it. Just as you were about to give it one last try, an arm reached out beside you, snatching the bag with ease.

“Oh, thank you—” You turned, half-expecting to see a store employee, but froze when you realized it was Bucky, he looked at you, an eyebrow raised, holding the bag as if he were contemplating your gratitude.

“Thanks,” you said with a polite smile, reaching for it. But he didn’t hand it over.

“What?” he asked, looking down at the bag, then back at you. “Did you think I got this for you?”

“Obviously?” you replied, exasperated. “I was reaching for it!”

Bucky tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Yeah, I saw. Looked like quite a struggle.”

You huffed, hands on your hips. “So you just saw a lady struggling and thought, ‘Nah, I’ll just grab my own and let her suffer?’”

He raised an eyebrow, looking at you with mock seriousness.

“In my defense, I was here to buy cat food too. And besides,” he said, holding the bag up a little higher, “I’m the one who actually got it off the shelf.”

Your jaw dropped as you let out a disbelieving scoff. “So, what? You think you can just keep it?”

Bucky shrugged, giving the bag a little shake. “I don’t know… I think Alpine would be pretty disappointed if I came home empty-handed.”

“Oh, really? Well, Figaro’s basically feline royalty, so he deserves the best. And I was here first, thank you very much.” You narrowed your eyes, refusing to back down.

“Sure, you were here first. But I was the one who reached it.” He leaned back a bit, arms crossed, clearly enjoying this.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, reaching up again, trying to snag it from his grip.

He pulled it just out of reach with a faint teasing smirk. “You know, if you tried a little jump, you might actually get it.”

You rolled your eyes. “And you call me a Trash Panda?! You’re the one robbing me in public.”

He shrugged, looking you over with a mockingly thoughtful expression. “Well, if you could use those same Trash Panda skills you talked about, maybe you’d actually reach it.”

“Oh, so now you’re saying I should just climb the shelves?” You bit back a laugh, folding your arms with a challenging look.

“Hey, if the trash panda mask fits…” he replied, smirking.

You couldn’t help it—you laughed, shaking your head. “Well, guess what, I’m not giving up. Figaro needs this kibble, so… how about we make a deal?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

“Rock, paper, scissors. Best two out of three. Winner takes the kibble.”

He chuckled, clearly amused. “You serious?”

“As a heart attack,” you replied, holding out your hand, already set on rock.

He sighed dramatically but held out his fist. “Alright.”

You both counted off—“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”—and threw your choices. First round: you threw rock, he threw scissors.

“Ha! One for Figaro,” you said, grinning triumphantly as Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Beginner’s luck,” he muttered, shifting his stance.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” you both chanted again. This time, you threw paper, but he threw scissors, a sly smirk pulling at his lips.

“Looks like Alpine’s back in the game,” he said, sounding entirely too pleased with himself.

You narrowed your eyes. “Fine. One to one. This is for all the kibble, Barnes.”

You both held your fists out one last time, tension building as you chanted together, “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

You threw scissors… and his hand did some weird, twisty thing that didn’t look like a fist or open palm. It seemed to morph into rock at the last second.

You stared at his hand, utterly perplexed. “Hold on. What… what was that?”

He cleared his throat, trying to keep a straight face as he straightened his hand into a proper rock. “Uh, rock.”

You squinted at him, highly suspicious. “That didn’t look like rock. That looked like some sort of… ninja move.”

“Rock. Fair and square.” He shrugged, deadpan.

“Fair and square?” you repeated, scandalized. “You hesitated! I saw it. There was… like, a split-second where it was maybe paper or… or spaghetti hand. You can’t just—”

“Ha!—” he laughed suddenly, clutching the bag triumphantly. “Looks like Alpine’s getting her dinner after all.” Realizing he’d let his competitive amusement slip, he quickly cleared his throat and returned to his usual deadpan expression. “Uh, like I said. Rock.”

You gasped, pointing a dramatic finger at him. “Cheater! This is an outrage. Figaro and I will be filing an official complaint.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, barely hiding a grin as he clutched the kibble bag like a prize. “Good luck with that, Trash Panda. You know where to find me.”

“W-what?! This is unacceptable!”

He gave you a mock salute, turning to leave with the bag held victoriously at his side. “See you around. Better luck next time.”

× × × ×

You finally made it back home, juggling grocery bags as you stepped through the door. After Bucky’s so-called “victory” over the last bag of Figaro’s kibble, you’d stubbornly marched to a different grocery store just to get the brand he liked. And now, as you set down the bags, you couldn’t help but grumble, still ‘annoyed’ by the whole ordeal.

“Can you believe that guy, Figaro?” you muttered, pulling out the new bag of kibble and placing it on the counter. “Rock, paper, scissors? And don’t get me started on his weird ‘ninja rock’ move.”

Figaro, who’d been lounging on the windowsill, perked up at the mention of his name, giving you a lazy blink. He trotted over, sniffing at the bag with casual curiosity, clearly more interested in the kibble than your grocery drama.

“Yeah, I know, buddy,” you sighed, scratching his ears. “I went through all that trouble just to get this for you. Because some self-proclaimed ‘cat dad’ thought it was funny to mess with me.”

Figaro blinked at you slowly, his usual regal, unbothered expression intact.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” you continued, almost indignant. “He was laughing at me—like, actually laughing! And then he tried to pretend he didn’t. I swear, the nerve…”

You opened the bag, pouring a small amount into Figaro’s dish. He immediately sauntered over, sniffing it appreciatively before settling down to eat, clearly oblivious to your rant.

You huffed, pacing around the kitchen as you continued your one-sided conversation. “And then, he had the audacity to call me a Trash Panda. A Trash Panda, Figaro! Just because I had to take the recycling out one time. If anything, he’s the one acting like a sneaky raccoon, hoarding all the kibble.”

Figaro paused mid-chew, glancing up at you with a flick of his tail, as if he were considering whether to care about your grievances. Ultimately, though, he resumed eating, clearly finding the kibble well worth your extra trip.

“Glad you’re satisfied, at least,” you muttered, watching him with an exasperated smile. “But just so you know, if I run into him again, there’s no way he’s winning round two. Trash Panda, my foot.”

You sighed, finally plopping down on the couch. As you closed your eyes, Figaro leapt up, curling onto your lap, purring as if to say, You did well. Now, keep that kibble coming.

With a chuckle, you scratched behind his ears. “Yeah, yeah. All for you, buddy.”

× × × ×

Bucky unlocked his apartment door, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The memory of his grocery store “win” replayed in his mind, and he let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he thought of you muttering something about a “trash panda” rebellion. But as he stepped inside, his good mood was interrupted by a startling sight.

There, sitting casually on his couch, was Nick Fury, his signature eyepatch and stoic expression in place as he stroked Alpine, who lounged contentedly on his lap, purring like she’d known him her whole life.

“Fury?” Bucky’s voice was laced with a mixture of irritation and surprise as he closed the door, eyeing the uninvited guest warily. “Breaking into people’s apartments now, are we?”

Fury didn’t look up, still scratching Alpine’s ears. “Didn’t break in. Used the spare key you left at the front desk. Figured you wouldn’t mind.”

Bucky sighed, leaning back against the door. “Something tells me you didn’t swing by just to bond with my cat.”

Finally, Fury looked up, his expression as unreadable as ever.

“Got a job for you,” he said, straight to the point. “Nothing big. Need someone with your… skill set. It’s important.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. “So, you need me for a mission?”

Fury gave a curt nod, placing a slim folder on the coffee table in front of him. “Consider it a favor. Low profile, nothing flashy. Think of it as keeping yourself sharp.”

Bucky looked at the file, then back at Fury, giving a single, firm nod, his expression resolute.

“Alright.”

A flicker of satisfaction passed over Fury’s face. “Good. Figured you’d see it that way,” he said, standing up and straightening his coat. “Call it… preventative maintenance.”

Bucky gave him a sarcastic smile. “Good to know you’re looking out for me.”

Fury adjusted his collar, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t get used to it.”

With that, Fury headed for the door, but he paused, glancing back as if he’d forgotten something.

“Nice cat,” he added, nodding to Alpine. “She’s got good taste.”

Before Bucky could respond, Fury slipped out the door, leaving the room silent except for Alpine, who looked up at Bucky with wide, innocent eyes, as if nothing unusual had happened.

He let out a breath, shaking his head as he picked up the file Fury had left.

“Guess I’m not the only one with ‘friends’ stopping by,” he muttered, scratching Alpine under the chin. She purred, looking thoroughly unbothered, as if welcoming mysterious guests was just part of her day.

As Bucky settled into his apartment, he opened the slim file Fury had left behind. The first page was blank, but as he flipped it open, a small stack of documents fell out, including a photo. He picked it up, his gaze settling on a familiar face.

There you were, captured in a candid shot, your expression focused and composed, a faint smile touching your lips. Bucky felt a slight twist in his chest; he knew you looked good, but seeing you in an official document made it all seem… different.

He sighed, setting the photo aside as he turned to the profiles. The first file, marked with your family’s name, laid out the details of their empire. The Emporium, he read, the flagship shopping mall brand that had grown into a national luxury name, renowned for its upscale stores and sleek, modern architecture. A leader in the retail market, The Emporium was a prestigious name, built on elegance, exclusivity, and exceptional customer experience.

Finally, he found your profile. There was your name, the one he hadn’t known until now. Bucky murmured it to himself, testing the sound on his tongue. It suited you.

As he read, he found his initial hunch confirmed—your involvement in any of the suspected activities was highly unlikely. The profile outlined your recent appointment as CEO, noting your reputation for commitment and vision, as well as your focus on a flawless customer experience and dedication to preserving the company’s high standards. The report even highlighted your relative lack of experience with the inner financial workings of the empire, making it clear you hadn’t been involved with the questionable transactions.

Still, Bucky’s stomach clenched as he flipped to the next page. A profile on your older brother, marked with multiple instances of substantial, unusual transactions. The transactions were linked to shell companies 'known' to have Hydra connections. He sat back, fingers brushing over the file, his mind whirring with the implications.

He couldn’t deny the odd twist in his gut. The more he read, the more he realized he was being drawn into something that would involve you deeply. And the idea of you eventually finding out about his involvement gnawed at him. But for now, he told himself, he was only gathering information.

As he leaned back, closing the file, his gaze drifted back to your photo, a faint sigh escaping him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that when you eventually learned the truth, this mission might cost him more than he wanted to admit.

tags: @winchestert101 @lomlbuckybarnes @lveegsoi @itsshellzy @almosttoopizza

@aami98 @hextech-bros @hzdhrtss @winterslove1917 @infqnitysblog

@ayayaeyato @blackbirdwitch22 @mostlymarvelgirl @bohoooitsme @crdgn

@yiiiikesmish @jae0515 @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @nikey-no-likey @aami98

@almosttoopizza @hextech-bros @wisteriaandwafers @yiiiikesmish @marvelavengerspovs1

@ppbhquinn

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bossbtch1 · 10 months ago

Text

Cat and Mouse Pt. 1

Summary : You're the notorious Black Cat, a cat-burglar who initially caught Spiderman's attention. Engaging in a thrilling cat-and-mouse game with the web-slinger, the stakes escalate when you stole from the Avengers, prompting them to send the Winter Soldier to capture you.

Pairings : Bucky Barnes x f!reader as Black Cat x Peter Parker

Tags : Eventual Smut, Witty, Cunning, Sly, Banter, Flirting, Teasing

Words : 11k+ (This is why I have to divide it into 2 parts lol)

A/N : Big thanks to @nayala for this fantastic request! Writing this story has been an absolute blast, especially with the witty and flirty banter between the characters. I've decided to spice things up by introducing Peter Parker, aka Spiderman, to the mix, considering Black Cat's connection to the Spiderverse. Quick heads up, Peter Parker here is 18, as there'll be plenty of playful flirting and teasing from the reader. But fear not, the smutty goodness will be reserved for our dear Bucky. Enjoy the ride!

You were the infamous black cat, an elusive thief that was known to be very dangerous and seductive. It was easy for you to sneak past any guard, get in and out without a trace, and have them clueless as to who was responsible for it all.

You had been following your father's footsteps, wanting to continue his legacy, and become the greatest cat burglar of all time. So far, you've made a name for yourself. However, there was a small problem that you faced. You met by one of the biggest and most troublesome obstacles yet. The ever famous Spider-Man.

You noticed he had been watching and following you for the last few heists. He thought you didn't know he was there, but you could sense his presence. You wondered when he would try and take you on. You pretended not to know, you wanted to play his little game. You were a master at this little game of hide and seek you had with him.

You could see the excitement and anticipation in his body language, the way he would move and watch you, his excitement only grew as he continued to follow you. He was getting more confident with his moves, as well. You couldn't help but to chuckle to yourself seeing him, "He's getting more bold," you mumbles to yourself while watching him swinging with his web, "and a little less sneaky."

One night, a particular target caught your attention. It was a ruby gemstone, the largest one of its kind in the world. It was so enticing, and you wanted to add it to your collection, so you went on your merry way to go get it. It was also the time has come for him to show himself and try and put an end to your little games.

"It's time," you said as you prepared to enter the store.

The night was young, and you could feel the electricity of the air as you snuck through the night. You climbed onto the roof of the jewelry store, making your way to a window, and slipped inside. You landed on your feet and immediately made your way to the door. You peeked outside, the coast was clear. You slowly opened the door and looked both ways. Once again, no sign of anyone.

You began to make your way towards the room with the jewellery and was working on cutting the glass of the window you were going through with your claws. The security in this building was awful, it was so easy turning off the alarm and drugging the security. After that you quickly put the jewellery stone inside your suit but were interrupted by a web being shot onto your hand.

"I would like to politely request that you not do that." Spider-Man said, hanging from a web above you.

You couldn't help but smirk, turning around to face him. "Well, look who decided to join the party. Pleasure meeting you," you said with a hint of sarcasm. "But I would like to politely ask you to kindly fuck off" With a swift motion, you pulled out one of your claws and sliced through the web.

"I don't think the owner will like the way you broke the window. Or how you plan to take what doesn't belong to you."

You sighed, looking around at all the glass now on the floor, "Well, I guess I'm gonna have to do a little more damage control."

"I can't let you do that, Miss-,umm" Spider-Man trailed off, unsure what to call you. “Miss Black Cat.”

"Miss Black Cat," you chuckled with the nickname he called you. "Wow, so fomal. And, really, I'm just here, minding my own business, doing my thing."

"Breaking and entering is illegal," He pointed out.

"I'm just doing the owner a favour, they didn't have proper security installed. So really, I'm doing them a favour." You shrugged as he swung down to the ground, landing gracefully amidst the shattered glass.

Spider-Man pulled on the web, pulling you closer. "That's not how it works."

"It's not?" You asked, placing a hand over your heart in faux surprise. "Well, shoot, here I am, just trying to be a good Samaritan. Thought I was doing the right thing. What a shame."

"I guess they weren't counting on having the most notorious jewel thief in New York City."

Your laughter filled the air as you grabbed his web. "Flattered, really." With a swift motion, you ripped the web off your wrist and pulled on the end still in his hands, drawing him closer. You traced the contours of his mask with a teasing touch. "You're quite the fan, huh?"

You could tell he was embarrassed, because he stammered for a bit before answering. "What? No, I'm- I'm just- I'm trying to-"

You pressed a finger to his lips. "It's okay, no need to hide it."

He shook your hand away from his face, "Well, it is kind of my job to know you. You're one of the few people I actually have to keep a close eye on. Especially with all the trouble you've caused."

"Trouble? Well, you know, darling, they say trouble is just another word for fun," you teased, twirling a lock of your hair with a flirtatious smile.

He regained some composure, tried to steer the conversation back to seriousness. "Fun or not, breaking the law has consequences. You can't just waltz in and decide what's right."

You tilted your head, examining him with a glimmer of mischief. "Oh, but I beg to differ, Spider. I've been doing it for quite some time now. And honestly, where's the thrill in following all the rules?" Then you shoved him, you began walking away, but you could hear him following you.

"No, no, no, you're not leaving. Not until you give back what you took."

"Um, okay, uh, no thank you," he muttered, shaking his head.

"What? Don't want to see what's underneath?" you teased.

He shook his head, flustered. "That's not—no. I'm—no. I'm not doing that."

You flashed a playful smile. "Alright. Suit yourself."

"Look, let's make this quick and easy for both of us," He urged, attempting to bring the situation back to seriousness. "Just give me back what you stole, and I'll let you off."

Your grin widened as you stopped and turned to face him. "Oh, Spidey, always in a rush. Where's the fun in quick and easy? But fine, you can check. I've got nothing to hide… except maybe a few secrets," you added with a wink, keeping the playful tone alive in your exchange.

“Fine, you leave me no choice." He shot out two webs, aiming for your legs. You dodged, jumping back, landing on your feet.

"You're fast," he remarked, genuine surprise in his voice.

"And you're predictable," you quipped, shooting a grappling hook that latched onto his arm.

You skillfully reeled in the grappling hook and, with a swift motion, tossed him aside. He tumbled and hit the ground, but Spider-Man was on his feet in an instant, standing before you. "You're stronger than you look," he admitted. Undeterred, he shot out more webs, attempting to ensnare you, but you deftly dodged each one.

"Oh, and you're not as strong as you think you are," you retorted with a smirk, seizing the opportunity to run at him. A well-placed kick to the chest caught him off guard, sending him flying into a nearby wall. As he struggled to get back on his feet, you couldn't help but taunt, "Come on, where did that spirit of yours go?"

He shot out more webs in an attempt to capture you, but your agile moves allowed you to dodge and roll away. "Well, that was unexpected," he remarked.

"You're not the only one who can do acrobatics, sweetie," you laughed, staying one step ahead utilizing the momentum to turn a stumble into a graceful run toward the exit.

"Hey, wait!" He called out, shooting a web at the door. He tried again, attempting to catch you, but each time, you skillfully evaded his web shots. Undeterred, he continued his pursuit, shooting webs that you effortlessly dodged.

With a quick cut of the web and a deftly handled device, you pressed a button and slipped through the roof. "This isn't the last time you're going to see me, Spidey. See you later."

"Well, I guess there's always next time," He muttered, watching as you disappeared into the night.

It had been a few couple of days since you last saw Spider-Man, and you were actually glad. He was cute and all, but his constant need to try and stop you was really getting annoying. The next time you met was a few weeks later. You were stealing a painting, when once again you were stopped by Spider-Man.

"I thought I told you, I'm not interested." You said, before he could say anything.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"We have a history. We go back and forth. And we both know how it's going to end. So why don't you just make this easy on us both, and just turn around and leave."

"I can't. Not while you're doing illegal activities." He said, as he shot his webs at you. You managed to dodge, but that only resulted in him wrapping them around the painting instead.

"I appreciate the concern, Spidey, but you really should consider a new hobby. Maybe knitting?" you quipped, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

He shot you a wry smile, acknowledging the banter. "Breaking the law isn't a hobby.”

With a nonchalant shrug, you retorted, "Well, you have your hobbies, and I have mine. Let's agree to disagree, shall we?"

He seemingly undeterred, finally managed to free the painting from the webbing. "Look, I can't just let you go around stealing things.”

"Why?" you asked, strolling through the museum's long hallways.

He followed after you. "Because stealing is wrong," he said, as if stating the most obvious thing in the world.

"Who says?"

"Society."

"Oh please, society is messed up anyway," you scoffed, continuing down the hallway with a nonchalant air. Uncertain of your destination, you pressed on. "Besides, stealing is such a strong word. I prefer borrowing."

"And how long do you plan on keeping these 'borrowed' items."

"That depends. How long does a loan usually last?" You said, before you cut the painting from the wall and took off running. Spider-Man was following close behind and managed to get ahead of you.

"You're not leaving with that."

"Then come and stop me." You challenged.

He shot his webs at you, and managed to take you down, but you weren't going to make it that easy for him. You got free from the webs and ran off once more. The game went back and forth, until the painting was covered in webbing and completely ruined.

"Now look at what you did. Again." You said, pointing at the ruined artwork. "Don't you have anything better to do, than follow me around, and ruin my plans?"

"Nope, and I don't know why you keep stealing. And I can't just turn a blind eye to crime."

You tilted your head, a sly smile forming on your lips. "Crime is subjective, Spidey. What's a crime to you might be art to someone else. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, right?"

He shook his head, clearly not buying your philosophical spin on the situation. "You're making this more complicated than it needs to be."

"That's my specialty," you replied with a wink, deftly snagging another painting, this one being the most valuable. You effortlessly slipped into the shadows, aware of him trailing close behind. Jumping out of a window, you landed gracefully on the roof, greeted by the sprawling city lights below. "Hey, wait!" he called, climbing out the window and shooting a web to pull himself up.

"Why don't you just relax for a bit? Take in the view. It's pretty nice, isn't it?" you suggested, taking a few steps back, still fixated on the illuminated skyline.

"Um, yeah, it is." He said, slowly walking towards you.

"Just look at all those buildings. So shiny. So tall," you remarked, gazing at the New York view. "Too bad they're probably full of assholes."

He was unsure how to respond, choosing silence over an awkward reply.

Turning your attention back to him, you teased, "So, are you an asshole, Spidey?"

"What? No! I'm not an asshole.”

"Well, that's good to know," you remarked with a mischievous grin. Without missing a beat, you began sprinting towards the edge. Just before leaping off, you playfully left him with, "See you later."

He swiftly shot a web in an attempt to catch you, successfully snaring your arm. "I can't let you get away."

"You could if you tried," you teased, smirking, "But I suppose I can't blame you for having an unrequited crush on me."

"A crush? What the- I'm not- that's not-."

"How cute." Without hesitation, you jumped off, clutching the stolen painting, and landed gracefully on a lower building.

He swung after you, a mix of frustration and determination etched on his face. "Hey, wait a second!" he exclaimed. "That's not fair!"

"It is," you replied, looking up at him. "You should have expected that, considering we've known each other for a while now."

"Yeah, well, you should expect that I'll come after you."

"That's what make this fun." You laughed, before running into the alley and disappearing into the darkness. The two of you continued chasing each other, and you were enjoying every minute of it. You had never been caught, and you were glad that you finally had a worthy opponent.

You soon realized you were heading towards the water. You jumped off the pier, and landed on a boat. You then quickly hid behind the wheelhouse. He couldn't find you, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try. You heard him climbing on top of the roof, and you held your breath.

He was close, but you knew he wouldn't see you. You knew this, because you had done this many times before. You were an expert at this.

"Dammit!" he yelled, a clear sign of frustration. "Not again! Where'd she go? Why do I even bother?"

You had to hold back your laughter, as he continued looking for you.

"Hello, Mr. Stark, sorry for calling you late at night." You could hear Spider-Man talking on his communicator. He was talking to Iron Man. You had heard about him before, but you had never met him.

"Do you know what time it is? You should be in bed," Tony scolded, his voice coming through the communication device.

"Yeah, well..." Spider-Man sighed.

"Don't tell me you're chasing that Black Cat again?" Tony guessed, cutting straight to the point.

You couldn't help but smirk at the mention of your name. 'Oh, so you've been filling him in on our little game. How cute.’

He hesitated before responding, "Maybe? She-"

Tony swiftly cut him off, his tone firm. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop chasing after her?"

"I know Mr. Stark, but she-"

"But nothing. She's not someone you should be chasing after," Tony stated, not allowing any objections. "She's not your concern, Peter. Now go home."

'His name is Peter huh.' You were a bit disappointed to learned his name, you were enjoying not knowing his identity, it made everything more exciting.

Peter sighed. "You don't understand, Mr. Stark. The Black Cat, someone has to stop her.”

"And that someone is not you. You've got better things to worry about. No need to worry about low level criminals. Leave that to the police. It's not your job to worry about that."

'Low level? Oh, you wish.' You couldn't believe your ears. Did Tony Stark just call you a low level criminal? 'Ooh, you're going to regret saying that.'

"Mr. Stark, she's dangerous," Peter said, as if trying to convince Tony of the dangers you posed.

"No, she's not. She's just some chick who's into cat burglary. Leave her to the cops.”

"But-“ Peter whined.

"What did I say? I don’t want to hear another words from your mouth." Tony's tone was serious, "Go home. Don't make me get the suit."

He sighed, "Yes sir."

You had to keep yourself from laughing.

"Good. Goodnight kid." Tony ended the call.

"Night." He mumbled.

You waited until he was out of earshot, before you stepped out of the wheelhouse. What Tony just said about you hurt your pride, it was like he didn't consider you a threat. As if you weren't worth the attention. Well, now he was going to get your attention. And you were going to make him regret those words.

"Well, I guess I'm gonna have to pay him a visit."

You had spent 3 weeks staking out the Avengers Tower. You knew the building had advanced security systems, so you had to be extra careful. The plan was simple. You would steal something to get Tony's attention and proved him wrong. Then, you'd make sure he would notice. After all, you weren't some low level criminal.

"I got this." You said, as you took out a device, which you invented, and attached it to the wall. You activated it, and watched as a hologram appeared. It was a map of the building, showing all the rooms, and where the security cameras were.

You were surprised by how easy it was, and you began to wonder if they knew that you were coming. "Okay, the camera's will be off for a minute." You said, as you climbed into the open window. You made sure to stay close to the wall, so you wouldn't be seen.

You were wearing all black, and had a mask over your face. You also had gloves on, so you wouldn't leave any prints. The hallway was quiet, and empty. It seemed like everyone was either asleep or gone. You could hear voices coming from a room down the hall.

You stopped when you reached the end of the hallway. You heard footsteps coming your way. You looked around, and saw a vent above you. You took out a device that would give you a boost, and used it. You jumped into the vent, and quickly covered the hole with a metal cover.

"Okay, now what?" You asked yourself. You crawled through the vent, and kept an eye out for anything. You soon found that looked like a lab, and it was filled with computers, and other strange gadgets.

"This looks like it's the right place." You said. "Now, to get to work."

Before you could make a move, a man entered the room, catching your attention. Long hair cascaded down his back, metal arm on his left side. You didn't know who this man was, but there was something about him, that made your heart race.

The man had his back turned to you, and he didn't seem to notice you. He sat down at a computer and started typing. He looked so hot sitting there, with his hair pushed back, and his muscles flexing as he typed.

You wanted to know what he was working on, so you crawled quietly to the next vent. This one was right above his head, and you could see the screen clearly. It was an algorithm to track a specific energy signature.

'Hmm, interesting.' You thought. You were tempted to steal the drive, but you decided not to. It would have been a shame if it went missing. 'Maybe later.' You thought.

Immersed in your observation, a voice abruptly shattered the silence. "Bucky?" a voice questioned, causing both you and the man, apparently named Bucky, to startle.

"Nat?" he responded. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to check up on you," Nat said with genuine concern. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay," Bucky replied without meeting her eyes, his focus resolutely fixed on the computer. "I'm working on something."

“Are you still trying to figure out where that energy signature was coming from?"

"Yeah." Bucky responded curtly.

"But, it's late, and I think you need to relax."

"I don’t need to relax. I need to find that energy signature." Bucky snapped.

"Bucky, you have all been working non-stop." Nat pointed out. "Me, Steve, and the others are having drinks at the bar, why don't you come and join us."

"No."

"Come on, it'll be fun. We can get a drink, dance, and just have a good time."

"I don't have time to have fun, I need to focus." Bucky growled.

Nat approached him, "Taking a break doesn't mean losing focus, Bucky. Sometimes, stepping away for a while can give you a fresh perspective."

Bucky shot her a skeptical glance. "I don't see how a night out will help me find this signature."

"You might be surprised," she quipped, a playful glint in her eye. "Besides, we all could use a break, especially you. Come on. Work can wait, it's not going anywhere."

Finally, with a resigned sigh, he relented, "Fine."

Observing the scene unfold, you couldn't help but be intrigued by Natasha's persistence. A twinge of annoyance crept in, surprising you with its intensity.

"Alright, let's go," Nat declared, seizing Bucky's hand and pulling him out of his seat.

As they exited the room, an unwelcome sense of jealousy tinged your thoughts. 'What's wrong with me? Why do I care if he joins the party or not?' you questioned, puzzled by the unexpected surge of emotions. 'I don't even know them.'

You watched them walk out of the room. As you watched him leave the room, you thought about how hot he looked, and how much you wished you were at that party with him. But you had better things to do, and you couldn't afford to be distracted by a pretty face.

You waited until they left, and then crawled out of the vent. You took a few minutes to look around the lab. It was pretty standard and had everything a lab needed. But you couldn't find anything worth stealing, which was a disappointment.

You were about to leave, when something caught your eye. It was a small metal box, with lock on it. You figured there must be something important in there. Maybe you could find some new tech to play with.

'Oh this look important.' You thought. You walked over to picked it up. It was surprisingly light, and it had a small keyhole on the side. 'Damn it. I guess I'll have to pick the lock.'

You were good at picking locks, but it was time consuming, and you were on a time limit. You carried the case to a table, and placed it down. You were about to pick the lock, when you heard footsteps approaching. You quickly moved to the nearest vent, and slipped inside. You held your breath, as the footsteps got closer.

"You forgot something, Barnes?" A male voice asked

Curiosity getting the better of you, you edged closer to the vent, peering through to identify the individuals. You also didn’t recognize him.

"Yeah, the case," Bucky replied, lifting it from the table. "Why is it on here? I didn’t put it on the table.”

He seemed skeptical, throwing Bucky a knowing look. "You sure about that?" he asked.

"Positive. I wouldn't put it here. I wouldn't risk someone stealing it," Bucky asserted, his tone resolute.

"You sure about that?" Sam asked, giving him a knowing look.

"Positive. I wouldn't put it here. I wouldn't risk someone stealing it."

Sam chuckled. "Okay first of all, who in their right mind will steal from the avengers? Second of all, you're forgetting that you are in the Avengers Tower and not in the woods somewhere."

The irony of Sam's remark didn't escape you. Bucky did give off “live-in-the-woods” vibe, and you suppressed a laugh at the mental image.

"It's a possibility, Sam," Bucky insisted.

"Yeah, and I have a chance of getting a million dollars and marrying Beyonce." Sam retorded with a grin on his face.

"What's that got to do with this?" Bucky asked.

"Nothing, just making a point." Sam said.

"And the point is?"

"That you're overreacting." Sam playfully smacked Bucky's shoulder. "Chill out, man. You'll give yourself an aneurysm."

"Shut up."

Sam laughed, unfazed. "Whatever you say, Grumpy. Now drop the case and let's get going."

"You're an idiot." Despite the protest, Bucky complied, dropping the case just as Sam suggested. A triumphant smile crossed your face—your plan was back on track.

Sam shrugged, maintaining his easygoing demeanor. "At least I'm a happy idiot."

Rolling his eyes, Bucky turned around, making his way towards the door. Sam smirked and, after a quick glance around, strolled out. "Hey, maybe we'll find you a date!"

"Sam, for the last time, I don't need a date."

"You're going to die alone."

"No I won't, because I won't be dying."

Sam chuckled. "Okay, Mr. Smarty Pants."

"Stop calling me that." Bucky shot back, feigning annoyance.

You waited a few minutes to make sure he was gone, before crawling out of the vent. A sly smile played on your lips as you cradled the case in your hands. "Oh, Sam, you really are an idiot."

You put the case into your bag before walking out of the lab, and into the hallway. You knew there were cameras, but you had disabled them before entering the room. No one would know you were there. You exited as you came in. You had made sure the coast was clear, and you climbed down the side of the building. You landed softly on the ground, and placed the case in your backpack.

"Well, that was easy." You said.

You started walking home, and you couldn't stop thinking about Bucky. You wanted to see him again. Maybe next time, you could stay longer.

You entered your apartment, and locked the door behind you. You went to took off your bra as you went to the kitchen, and made yourself a cup of tea. You sat on the couch, and grabbed the briefcase you stole earlier.

"Let's see what you have in store for me." You said.

You carefully removed the lid, and peered inside. You saw a metal and picked it up. You could feel the weight, and the cold metal. "Is this the famous vibranium?" You went to examine to confirm, and yes it was vibranium. "Damn, this is going to fetch a nice price."

You examined the rest of the case, but it was mostly just papers and pictures. You closed the case, and placed it on the table. You leaned back, and sipped your tea. You finished your tea, and went to take a shower. You cleaned yourself and changed into a fresh set of pajamas.

The realization dawned on you that the Avengers were likely aware of the missing case by now. It was all part of the thrilling game you reveled in. Your mind danced with curiosity about their reactions—shock, anger, confusion? A mischievous smile adorned your face. "This is going to be fun."

Before your departure, you had strategically placed cameras and bugs in the vent to capture their reactions. You powered up the laptop, switching to the hidden camera feed. Lying down on the couch, you patiently waited.

Soon enough, Tony and Bucky appeared on the screen, frantically searching for the missing case. The heated exchange caught your attention. "What the hell are you talking about!? How did it happen? Who did it?" Tony yelled, frustration evident in his voice.

"If I had a clue, we wouldn't be tearing this place apart, would we?" Bucky retorted angrily.

"Gosh, you look so hot right now," you couldn't help but quip with a grin, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle of watching Bucky riled up in the chaos you had orchestrated.

"Where did you last see it?"

"Right here! On the table, but it's not there now!" Bucky snapped.

Tony continued paced around, his arms flailing as he continued to express his incredulity. "This doesn't make any sense! We have state-of-the-art security, and someone waltzes in and takes the vibranium right under our noses? How is that even possible?" Tony shot him an accusatory look.

Bucky, on the other hand, leaned against a table, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “What are you implying?” His steely gaze bore into Tony, his voice laced with irritation. "You think I had something to do with this, Stark?"

"I'm not saying you did, but it's awfully convenient that you were the last one with the case."

Bucky pushed off the table, walking closer to Tony, a scowl on his face. "Yeah, and I have no idea where it is. So what does that tell you, Stark?"

You watched with an amused smile. "It's like watching a soap opera, but better"

Tony sighed, his expression softening. "We have to find it. And fast."

"You think I don't know that, Stark? You think I wanted this to happen?" Bucky snapped back, his frustration evident. "Maybe if you spent less time throwing parties and more time on security, we wouldn't be in this mess,"

"Let's just stop yelling at each other and figure this out. The longer it takes us, the worse the situation gets." Tony urged, attempting to diffuse the tension in the room.

The two of them sat down on the couch, their heads together in a serious discussion. Tony pinched his bridge nose, "Friday, do a full scan of the building and search every corner. I want to see everything, and I want to see it now! Also, gather everyone immediately.” Tony commanded.

"Yes, sir," responded Friday. "This person is highly skilled, sir. They managed to bypass our security system and erase all camera footage from the lab, even the security tapes. Let me go through all the security feeds. This may take a moment."

As you watched the drama unfold on the laptop screen, you couldn't help but feel a surge of adrenaline. The thrill of outsmarting the mighty Avengers fueled your excitement. "I wonder how long it will take them to figure this out," you mused to yourself, reclining comfortably on the couch.

Interrupting the tense atmosphere, "I could only manage to acquire this footage," Friday announced, and a holographic screen materialized. Both Tony and Bucky fixed their gaze on the video as it played. The stolen vibranium case was clearly visible, andthen you made your dramatic appearance, crawling out of the vent.

Tony, with a grim expression, paused the video and zoomed in on your image. He rewound and replayed the footage several times. "Shit. That's Black Cat," Tony groaned, his frustration evident. "This isn't good."

You couldn't resist a triumphant smirk, knowing you had successfully elevated your status from a low-level criminal to a formidable adversary in their eyes. "Not feeling like such a low-level threat now, huh?" you remarked casually as you heated some food in the microwave.

As Natasha and the others entered the room, you clapped your hands together with a mischievous grin. "Now, let’s get this party started!"

Natasha furrowed her brow, immediately getting to the point. "What's going on here?"

Tony pointed at the empty space where the vibranium case had been. "Someone stole the vibranium.”

Clint, the archer, chimed in, "How did that happen? And who stole it?"

Bucky, looking visibly frustrated, answered, "Black Cat apparently."

Clueless, Sam blurted out, "A cat? What do you mean? How could a cat steal a case that big?"

Your laughter bubbled up—it was both hilarious and a tad sad to witness the confusion.

Bucky snapped, "Not a literal cat, you idiot. Black Cat is her alias. She's a thief, and she's a damn good one." His frustration flared as he continued, "This wouldn’t have happened if you two didn’t force me to go to the party I didn't even want to attend in the first place. But no. You forced me, and look where it got us." Bucky's voice resonated with irritation and anger.

"Bucky calm down." Steve tried to calm him down, "We didn't know this was going to happen."

"Calm down!? Stevie, you are telling me to fucking calm down? Somebody stole our vibranium, and we don't know where it is or what they want with it. We don't know if they're planning on using it or not."

"We'll get it back. I promise."

Your laughter echoed in the background, knowing they were in for a surprise. Their confidence amused you, and you couldn't wait to witness their reactions.

"And how the hell are we going to do that!? We have no clue who she is or what she look like. We don't even know where she’s located."

"Actually someone might." Tony said.

"Who?"

“Peter.”

The room fell into a momentary hush as they processed Tony's revelation.

"How the heck would that kid know anything about this?" Sam questioned, his skepticism evident in his tone.

Tony leaned against a table, folding his arms. "Let's just say he and Black Cat go way back."

You chuckled, "little spidey is in it for the action, huh?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "And why haven't we known anything about her until now?"

"Because I thought she wouldn't be a problem, I never expected this." Tony admitted.

"Well, that was dumb," Natasha remarked bluntly, not one to mince words.

"Yeah, thanks," Tony replied, a hint of sarcasm coloring his tone as he met Natasha's direct gaze.

“That's what you get when you underestimate me, Stark,” you said as you casually chewed your food.

"Mr. Parker is on the way up sir." Friday announced, you kinda didn’t want to see his face but you couldn’t help it but find out this way.

You weren't exactly excited to see spiderman's identity, you were enjoying about not knowing who he was, but now that the cat was out of the bag, you were going to find out.

The elevator doors opened and out came a short brunette boy.

"Who would've guessed." you said to yourself. You had thought that underneath that mask he was some badass who was super cocky and was a complete player, but no, he was just some nerdy, cute boy.

"Um Mr. Stark what's going on?" He looked at all the avengers gathered in the room, confused by the unusual meeting. "Why is everyone here? Is something wrong? Am i in trouble? I swear i didn't do anything bad! I was studying when Friday called me and-"

Tony interrupted him, "Hey relax kid. You aren't in trouble, but we are. And we need your help."

"Really?" Peter was surprised, he didn't think he would ever have the opportunity to assist the Avengers, and yet here he was, about to do exactly that.

"Yes. Tell us all you know about your little friend, black cat."

"What? Why do you want to know about her?"

"Well, we have a problem with her. She stole a case full of vibranium."

Peter's eyes widened, and he practically jumped out of his seat. "I knew it! I knew she was gonna do something like this! See, I told you, Mr. Stark, she's trouble! Oh my god, this is crazy. I can't believe this is happening. I told you we should catch her, she—"

Tony raised his hand, cutting off Peter's rapid-fire commentary. "Alright, calm down. We are going to." Peter blushed, his cheeks flushing red, embarrassed by his own outburst. “So, what do you know about her?"

"Nothing. Just what you already know. She is highly intelligent, resourceful, and adaptive. She uses high-tech gadgets to assist her in her crimes, and she has an arsenal of advanced weaponry, including shock nets and explosive collars."

"So we are dealing with a supervillain?" Clint asked.

"No. She doesn't have any superpowers, at least none that I know of. She's just an average human."

"Anything else?"

Peter scratched his head, racking his brain for additional information. "Not that I know of. When we met, we fought, and she escaped. It happened a few times. She's very skilled in hand-to-hand combat. She has a sharp tongue, and she's also very witty. She always disappeared, and I couldn't track her down."

"Do you know how to contact her? Or where she could be right now?" Bucky asked.

"Contact her? Well, she's not exactly on speed dial," Peter replied, furrowing his brows. "And as for where she might be... your guess is as good as mine."

Steve crossed his arms. "We need more information. If she's been elusive so far, there's got to be something we're missing. Any patterns in her heists or specific targets?"

Peter rubbed his temples, racking his brain. "Not that I've noticed. It's like she picks targets randomly. High-value items, but no discernible pattern."

Your grin turned into a full-fledged smile. "Oh, darling, if only they knew."

"Perhaps we need to bait her," Natasha suggested, her eyes narrowing as she assessed the situation. "Set up a tempting target and see if she takes the bait."

Peter frowned, clearly not thrilled with the idea. "It's risky. She's unpredictable."

Unbeknownst to the team, you chuckled to yourself. 'Unpredictable is my middle name.'

"Alright any details that you want to add?” Steve asked him.

Peter shook his head, "No, that’s all I know."

Tony dismissed Peter with a wave, "Thanks for sharing. Now, you can go home. I'm sure your aunt is waiting for you.”

Peter, confused, interjected, "Wait, what? I thought you said we are going to catch her."

Tony clarified, "Yes, what I meant is the adult. Now go home, kid. It’s getting late."

"But Mr. Stark I'm an adult! I'm 18!" Peter protested.

"You are hardly an adult. You still live with your aunt and go to school. That's not an adult. Now go home. We'll let you know if we need your help."

"Come on Mr. Stark please. You are always talking about how great it is to have me on the team and how I'm a great asset, and how I can do a lot of good. Well this is the perfect opportunity. I can be a huge help in catching her." Peter pleaded, his earnestness evident in his wide-eyed gaze.

You smirked hearing his request, "Little spidey wants to play huh."

Tony sighed, contemplating the Peter's request. "Look, kid, this isn't a game. It's dangerous, and you're still learning the ropes."

"But I can handle it! Please let me prove myself.”

Tony crossed his arms, considering the proposal. "Fine, you can go after her.”

Ecstatic, Peter beamed, "Thank you, Mr. Stark! You won't regret it, I promise!" His enthusiasm was palpable, and you couldn't help but smile at his excitement.

However, Tony added a condition, "But in one condition. Someone needs to accompany you."

Peter protested, "What? Wait, Mr. Stark, you know I can just go on my own, right?"

"That's exactly why I'm sending a babysitter with you," Tony retorted. "Considering your track record, I can't risk you turning this into a solo escapade and ending up as a headline in the Daily Bugle."

Before Peter could voice further objections, Tony shifted his attention to the assembled team. "So, any ideas?"

Bucky chimed in, "Maybe we can comb through her previous crime scenes, see if we can unearth anything useful."

"Good idea," Tony acknowledged.

Natasha added, "I'll see what I can dig up."

"Great. Now let's get to work."

As the team started to disperse, heading towards their respective tasks, you couldn't help but grin, “Showtime.”

You knew that the Avengers were actively trying to find you after your last heist, stealing their vibranium was definitely not what they were expecting. You were pretty proud of that achievement, however, you knew that the Avengers would come for you, and that meant you couldn't risk being out and about yet, no matter how much you wanted to go on your little heists, you missed the thrill. You were in hiding, waiting for the buzz to die down and then you could resume your usual schedule.

You had nothing better to do beside plan your next heist, which you'd already done. So, you spent most of your time watching the Avengers from your little cam, seeing what their plans were. But not until Bucky found out about the camera and bugs you had planted.

You were currently on the run, making sure you stayed off the grid. It was hard to be on the run, not when the Avengers were on your ass, and you were getting bored. You had to get back into the swing of things. It was risky, and dangerous, but you couldn't help it. You craved the adrenaline, the excitement, and you missed the chase, not that the Winter Soldier didn't chase you. You knew the moment he found you, the others wouldn't be too far behind.

Not long after that, Bucky keenly aware of your surveillance, confronted you through the camera feed. His intense blue eyes pierced through the lens, and a self-assured smirk played on his lips. "I know you're watching. You think I won’t find out?" he taunted. "You might as well show yourself, sweetheart. We both know I'm going to find you one way or another."

You smirked back at the camera, a shiver running down your spine as his voice resonated through your entire body. You knew he was right. If there was one person who would find you, it would be him, but you were not one to make it easy for him. You'd give them a little bit of a challenge, even though it would ultimately fail, it was still fun.

Bucky then started to walk towards the camera, “I'll find you." You could feel his words reverberate through you, his gaze penetrating, and you almost felt like he could see right through you. Your heart started racing as you imagined him coming after you, and the thought was more exciting than it should have been.

He moved closer, and closer, and closer, and then his hand reached out towards the camera.

You held your breath.

The picture went black.

You rolled your eyes and shut off the screen. He was not wrong. You'd been playing this game of cat and mouse for months, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't make you just the slightest bit curious.

What would it feel like to kiss the Winter Soldier? Or to feel his metal hand around your throat as he fucked you? You'd been lusting over him for a while now, but you knew the moment you met him it was a bad idea, not to mention that the Avengers were out to catch you. However, the thrill of possibly being caught was enough to keep you going.

You groaned and tried to get rid of those thoughts. This wasn't the time to fantasize about your enemy. No, you needed to focus on planning your next move. And what a perfect move it would be.

The Avengers were gearing up to attend an event hosted by a high-ranking political official. They would have all the security they needed, and a lot of their attention would be on the guests. A perfect opportunity for you to steal the artifact that arrived from Russia last week.

You had already made contact with a buyer, and they were very eager to get their hands on the object. All you had to do was get past the guards and the security systems. It would be easy since the avengers and cops would be preoccupied.

It was going to be the heist of the century.

The night of the heist was here. The sun was setting, and you could feel the excitement building inside you. This was your night, and you were going to make sure it was a success. You had spent the last few weeks scouting the area, planning every move meticulously. You knew exactly where you needed to be, and how long it would take you to get there.

You had everything you needed, and now all that was left was to wait. You took a deep breath and looked out the window. The city was quiet, a calm before the storm. You could feel the anticipation, the excitement, the tension in the air. It was going to be a night to remember.

You smiled to yourself, unable to contain your giddiness. This was the moment you'd been waiting for, and you couldn't believe it was finally here. You walked over to the door and placed your hand on the handle.

You opened the door and stepped outside. The cool air hit your face, and you breathed in deeply, savoring the feeling. After staying quiet for awhile, finally you were back in your element. You moved silently through the shadows, your steps barely making a sound. You were a ghost, invisible to the world.

The museum was within sight, and you could see the guards standing guard. They were expecting you, but they had no idea what was about to happen. Your smile grew wider, and you quickened your pace. You reached the perimeter fence and quickly scaled it, dropping down on the other side.

You were in.

You made your way towards the entrance, keeping your head down and sticking to the shadows. The guards didn't notice you, and you slipped past them without a sound. You were inside. Now all you had to do was find the artifact and get out before anyone noticed you.

You moved quickly through the halls, searching for the artifact. You reached the room where the artifact was being displayed, and you could see it sitting in its case, protected by an impenetrable glass.

You had done this many times before, this was your forte. You pulled out your equipment, and with a few quick movements, you had the glass open and the artifact in your hands. You couldn't help but feel a surge of triumph as you held it in your grasp. You had done it.

As you quickly put the artifact in your bag, a sudden interruption jolted your attention – a web shooting through the air. Turning, you found Spider-Man, his presence not entirely unexpected. A smirk adorned your face as you teased, "Hey, Spidey. Miss me?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he shot another web at you, trying to capture your hands. You ducked and avoided it, the grin never leaving your face. You had expected him to come after you. “We need to talk.”

"About what?" you countered innocently.

"This whole thing."

"What whole thing?" You asked, playing dumb.

"You know what I'm talking about."

"I really don't. Maybe you should elaborate."

"The way we keep running into each other, the way you always seem to slip through my fingers. I'm starting to think you're enjoying this."

"Well, it's hard not to when you look so good in that suit," you smirked.

"Is that all this is to you? A game?"

"Isn't that what it is?"

"I'm trying to stop you."

You chuckled, reveling in the cat-and-mouse dynamic between you two. "Oh, Spidey, you're adorable when you play the hero. But deep down, we both know you enjoy the chase as much as I do."

Spider-Man sighed beneath his mask, the frustration evident even without the facial expressions. “You're stealing valuable artifacts and vibranium from us. You are causing chaos. I can't let you continue."

Your smirk betrayed a hint of mischief, but you were running out of time. Your current heist had attracted more attention than anticipated, and your mysterious buyers were becoming increasingly impatient. With the Avengers hot on your trail, escaping quickly became a priority.

"As much as I'd love to continue our little chat..." With a swift motion, you tossed an EMP, electrocuting Spider-Man and causing a temporary distraction. "...I'm afraid duty calls."

Peter lay on the ground, momentarily paralyzed by the electric shock. "You won't be..." he groaned, "...getting away this time..."

"You might want to save your energy, Spidey," you said as you walked past him before you ran toward the exit. You ran off, heading towards the exit.

You were almost there when you heard footsteps behind you. You turned around, and your eyes widened as you saw someone standing there in front of you, towering you with his height.

His gun pointed at you, his metal arm reflecting the light from the lamp. His dark brown hair was messy, like he had just rolled out of bed, and his blue eyes were narrowed, staring you down.

Bucky.

You loved that look.

"Looks like someone in a hurry.” He asked.

You smiled. "Just excited to get home."

"I bet." He took a step closer, and you could feel your heart rate quickening. His proximity was making you nervous. "Hands up, Y/N.”

“Oh, you know my name," you purred, your heart beating faster, the adrenaline rushing through your veins. "I'm so flattered."

"You should be," he growled, stalking towards you. "Because I've been thinking and looking about you a lot."

"Oh, really?" You licked your lips. "I can't say I'm surprised."

"No, you're not." His blue eyes were staring at you, his gaze piercing through your soul. "Now, why don't you tell me what's in the bag?"

"It's not your concern, Bucky," you replied.

"I beg to differ." He cocked his gun, and it clicked as he pulled the trigger. "Now, tell me."

"If I tell you, would you drop the gun?"

He shook his head. "I won't shoot unless I have to, but I can't promise anything else."

You knew you couldn't beat him not with his reflexes. The only way out was to use the element of surprise. You were about to make a move, "Don't even try, Y/N." He warned. "Hands up now."

You decided to play along, and you dropped your bag and raised your hands above your heads. He walked up to you, grabbed the bag. He didn't check the contents, just kept the gun pointed at you. "You're coming with me."

"And what if I don't?" You challenged him.

"Then I'll make you," he growled. "Now, turn around, hands behind your back."

You obeyed, and he pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket. He grabbed your wrist and spun you around, pinning you against the wall. His body pressed against yours, and you could feel the heat of his skin through your clothes. "Oooh, kinky," you said, biting your lip. "You should take me to dinner first."

He was still quiet and shook his head, locking the cuffs around your wrists, pressing his fingers against your pulse, feeling how fast your heart was beating. "That can be arranged," he said, his lips brushing against your ear. "Now, be a good girl and walk."

Your heart skipped a beat as he led you towards the elevator, his grip on your arm firm and unyielding. "Don't try to do anything stupid," he said, his voice low. "You'll regret it."

Peering up at him, you met his intense gaze with determination. "Giving up isn’t my style," you retorted, a hint of defiance in your tone. "I'll find a way out sooner than you think."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," he chuckled, a deep resonance that seemed to linger in the air. "But hate to burst your bubble, sweetheart, you're not going anywhere. I'm not letting you go."

You laughed, the sound echoing through the museum. "You have no idea who you're dealing with," you said, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

"We'll see about that."

As the elevator doors closed, Bucky pressed the button for the main floor. Silence enveloped you both, your body subtly pressed against his. A coy smile played on your lips as you broke the quiet. "You know, you're a terrible babysitter."

"What?" Bucky turned his gaze to you.

"Little spidey was still upstairs," you replied, a smug smile forming on your lips. "I tucked him into his little nap."

Bucky casually shrugged, "He's a big boy, he can handle it."

"I don't know, he looked really tired," you said, "Maybe you should check on him."

"I'm a bit preoccupied right now," he replied.

"You should hurry then," you insisted, "Wouldn't want anything bad to happen to the dear Spidey."

His eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on your arm.

"What's the matter, Bucky?" you whispered, your voice dripping with taunt. "Are you concerned about little Spidey?"

"Watch it, Y/N," he growled, a low warning in his tone. "I can always toss you in a cell, give you a nice, hard time."

"I didn't expect you to be into that kind of thing," you quipped, a playful glint in your eye. His stern expression softened for a moment, caught off guard by your cheeky remark.

He sighed, his jaw clenched. "Why are you like this?"

"Like what?" you asked innocently, cocking your head to the side. "Adorable and sexy?"

"Insufferable and cocky," he grumbled, glancing away as if trying to resist the charm you exuded.

"Well, it takes one to know one," you said, your laughter echoing in the confined space. He shook his head in mild disbelief, unable to completely conceal the hint of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips.

The elevator doors opened, revealing the lobby surprisingly empty. You were half-expecting the entire Avengers team to be waiting for you. Bucky wasted no time, his grip firm on your arm, as he pulled you out and strode purposefully toward the exit.

The cool night air wrapping around you. You could hear the sounds of traffic and sirens in the distance, the city alive and vibrant. "Are we taking a walk?," you asked. "It's a bit cold for that."

"Don't worry," he said, his fingers brushing against the pulse point in your wrist, sending a shiver down your spine. "We're going to warm you up."

He led you down the sidewalk, the streetlights casting shadows on the buildings. You could see his car waiting in the distance, and you wondered where he was taking you. "Where are we going?" you asked, looking up at him.

"Back to the tower," he replied, his voice low. "We need to get some answers from you."

A mischievous glint danced in your eyes as you teased, "I thought I was going to a cell.”

"No," he clarified, shaking his head. "I have something else in mind."

A playful smile graced your lips as you bit down on the inside of your cheek. "Whatever could it be?" you teased.

"You'll see," he muttered, opening the passenger door of his car.

"How gentlemanly of you," you remarked with a smirk.

He helped you in the car, his fingers brushing against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You sat in the backseat, your wrists still handcuffed, his scent invading your senses.

You tried to think how could you get out of the cuffs without his notice, but he was too attentive, his eyes constantly watching you. You decided to distract him by bombarding him with lots of questions, "How long have you known my name?," you asked.

His gaze shifting to yours. "A few weeks," he replied. "It's been a while."

Your lips curled into a sly smirk. "So, you've been keeping tabs on me, huh?"

Bucky's response was measured. "You could say that."

Grinning, you playfully added, "I'm flattered."

He shot you a sidelong glance, his eyes taking on a dark and intense edge. "Don't be."

Amused, you let out a throaty chuckle. "Why not?" you prodded.

"It wasn't for a good reason," he replied.

Casually, you dismissed the seriousness of the situation. "I don't care about that," you teased, your voice laced with playful indifference. "It's nice to know someone has been thinking of me."

A snort escaped him, and he responded, "It wasn't like that."

Feigning innocence, you raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you didn't want to have me all for yourself?" His silence fueled your amusement, prompting you to continue, "I mean, who wouldn't want a piece of all this?" With a playful gesture, you emphasized the cuffed wrists.

“You’re crediting yourself a little bit too much, sweetheart.” His response was cool and collected as he turned his gaze towards you, conveying a sense of unreadable determination. "When I have the time, we're going to have a nice, long conversation."

Leaning forward, you kept the playful tone. "I'd like that," you whispered. "But first, let's play a game."

"We're not playing games," he asserted, his tone firm.

"Afraid you'll lose?" you teased, a glint of mischief in your eyes.

"Hardly," he replied, a smirk gracing his lips. "I'm just not interested in a game where I'm the only player."

"Oh, there will be other players," you said, your voice dropping to a sultry tone. "In fact, they're right behind us."

He glanced in the rearview mirror, and his eyes widened as he saw the cars following him, their lights flashing. "What the hell," he muttered, his grip on the wheel tightening as the unexpected turn of events unfolded.

"Looks like we have company," you said, a smug smile on your lips. "And they don't look very happy."

The pursuing cars closed in, their headlights casting an eerie glow on the darkened streets. Bucky's jaw tightened as he navigated the car through the winding roads, trying to shake off the relentless pursuit. "Who the hell are they?" he growled, his eyes flicking between the road and the rearview mirror.

"Oh, I don't know. I didn't invite them." You leaned back in your seat, feigning innocence.

Bucky shot you a skeptical glance through the mirror, you raised your eyebrow, “What?” His gaze was dangerous, “You know I’m not the only one who fancy art in this city.”

Bucky grunted in frustration, his gaze narrowing as he focused on the road ahead. "How many are there?" he asked, his voice rising. His foot pressing the gas even harder.

"Ten," you replied, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. "Give or take."

He swore under his breath, the pursuing cars drawing dangerously close, their engines roaring like a pack of hungry wolves. "Shit," he exclaimed, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. "I'm going to lose them."

You shook your head. "No, you're not."

A feral determination flashed in Bucky's eyes. "How do you know that?" he snapped, his gaze shifting from the road to the rearview mirror.

"It won't work," you said, shaking your head knowingly. "There are too many of them."

"I'll find a way," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

As the tension in the car escalated, you couldn't help but enjoy the thrill of the chase, reveling in the chaos you had sown. "You know, Bucky, this is much more exhilarating than a quiet night at the museum."

“Can you just shut up for a moment?” he grumbled, a vein pulsating in his forehead.

“I can if you give me the key to the handcuffs," you suggested playfully, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "I could be of assistance, you know."

"Not a chance, sweetheart," he replied, his grip firm on the wheel as he executed a sharp turn.

"Come on, it's not like I can go anywhere." You raised your hands, the cuffs clinking against each other, a subtle jingle amidst the chaos. "But a little cooperation could benefit us both."

He didn’t answer you.

The car lurched forward as he swerved around a corner, the wheels squealing. "Nice driving," you said, leaning back against the seat. "But you're not getting rid of them."

"What are they after?" he demanded, his voice tinged with urgency.

"So," you said, smirking, "My little guess is they want what I have."

"What the hell do you have that they want?" Bucky asked, his knuckles white on the steering wheel, his gaze unwavering on the road.

"That's for me to know and for you to find out," you said, smiling.

Bucky shot you a disapproving look. "This isn't a game, Y/N."

"Oh, but it is," you countered, your eyes gleaming with mischief. "Life's just one big game, and we're all players, aren't we?

He turned and glared at you. "Not now," he said, his voice sharp and edged.

"Always," you said, your tone matching his.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Bucky grumbled, his eyes never leaving the road. The gravity of the situation was evident in the tightness of his jaw and the firm grip on the steering wheel.

"Guilty as charged," you admitted, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "But hey, it's not every day you get to be part of a high-speed chase with the infamous Winter Soldier."

He shot you a stern look, his expression a mix of annoyance and concern. "This is serious, Y/N. Just fucking tell me," he said, his knuckles white.

"Sure," you praised with a grin. "But after we address the elephant in the room?" You jingled the handcuffs for emphasis.

Bucky sighed, realizing he couldn't ignore the issue any longer. "Fine. But no funny business." He threw you the key, the metal flying through the air.

You leaned forward, your lips dangerously close to his ear. "Can't make any promises, handsome," you said, catching the key.

As the cuffs fell away, you rubbed your wrists. "Freedom suits me," you remarked, stretching your arms for emphasis, a playful glint still present in your eyes.

"Now, are you going to tell me what's in the bag?"

"About the bag," you continued, eyeing the bag in the back seat. "Inside is an ancient artifact, said to be forged by the gods themselves."

"And you decided to steal it because?"

"What if I told you I had a good reason for what I do? A cause worth fighting for?"

He let out a harsh laugh. "I find it hard to believe you're some kind of modern-day Robin Hood."

"You may change your mind," you said, a smirk spreading across your face.

The car swerved sharply, the tires screeching, as he pulled onto a side road. The situation escalated as the pursuing cars began firing shots. The urgency in the air became palpable, and you knew you had to act quickly. "Now give me a gun so I can help you lose them," you insisted.

He laughed, a mix of disbelief and amusement. "You think I'm stupid?"

"Not stupid, just stubborn." You jumped into the front passenger seat. You opened the glove compartment, a gun sitting inside. "There we go," you said, pulling it out and loading it.

He glanced over at you, his eyes widening. "How did you know that was there?" he asked.

You grinned, the metal of the gun cool against your fingers. "A lady never tells her secrets."

You started shooting, the glass of the back window shattering, the men yelling in the car behind. "I'll cover you," you said, "Take the next turn."

He nodded, his foot pressing the gas pedal even harder. The car roared, speeding down the street, the other cars following close behind. You could see the turn ahead, the lights bright and blinding. He took the turn, the tires squealing, the car swerving. He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white. "Hold on," he said.

The car lurched, the metal groaning as he swerved around a corner. You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins, the wind whipping through the shattered windows. You hit some of them but they were still too many of them.

"They're still on our tail," you said, looking over at him. “Fuck, I’m out of ammo.”

Bucky, focused on the road, swiftly tossed you his gun. "Make every bullet count."

"Got it." You fired off another round, the sound deafening.

The pursuing vehicles continued their relentless pursuit, and you knew that if you didn't act fast, the odds would be stacked against you. You fired off another round, the impact shattering a tire, the car veering off the road.

"One down," you muttered, reloading the gun.

Bucky's eyes were narrowed as he took the next corner, the car skidding.

The pursuing vehicles remained undeterred, continuing their pursuit. You gritted your teeth, frustration mounting, the sound of gunshots ringing in your ears. A series of well-placed shots managed to incapacitate three of the pursuing cars, causing a chain reaction as some collided into each other.

“Nice job, Y/N.” He complimented you, his tone laced with a hint of admiration.

The satisfaction of successfully hitting some of the pursuers was short-lived as four additional cars joined the fray.

"Shit, there's more," you said, your eyes narrowing at the sight. "Where the hell did they come from?"

"Don't worry," he said, his voice tense. "I've got a plan."

"Let's hear it." With your usual resourcefulness stretched thin, you looked to Bucky for a solution in the unfamiliar territory of a high-speed chase.

"You're not gonna like it," he said, his tone serious.

"Try me," you challenged.

He took a deep breath. "We're going to jump," he declared, his gaze unwavering on the road.

Laughter bubbled up, and you shook your head in disbelief, grappling with the audacity of the plan. "You're joking, right?" you quipped, shooting him a skeptical look.

"I wish I were," Bucky replied, a hint of grim determination in his eyes. "We need to lose them, and this is our best shot."

“Are you insane? This is the worst plan I’ve ever heard.” Your gaze flickered between Bucky and the pursuing cars, the gap narrowing with each passing second. The high-stakes nature of the situation left you with little choice. "Beside jump where? We will die if we jump right now.”

“There’s a lake ahead, we can jump into it. We will lose them that way, but it will also leave us vulnerable. It's a risk, I know."

You sighed, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "This is beyond reckless, Bucky. What if it doesn't work? We could end up at the bottom of that lake."

He shot you a confident grin. "Trust me, Y/N. I'm good at what I do. It's the only way to shake them off our tail." His hand grabbed your hand, and his grip was firm, but not painful. "What? Scared?" He teased you, his tone playful.

"It's not fear, it's concern for our survival. Crashing into a lake at this speed sounds like a recipe for disaster."

“Come on, I thought you like the thrill. Just think of it as a leap of faith."

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"Not really," Bucky said, a grin spreading across his face. "Ready to take a leap of faith with me, doll?"

“Fine, let's do it. But if I die, I'm going to haunt your ass forever," you declared, squeezing his hand tightly.

"Fair enough," Bucky replied, his smile widening.

He took a deep breath and pressed the accelerator, the engine roaring, the needle climbing towards the red zone. You watched in silence as the pursuing cars grew larger, the headlights flashing in the darkness.

With your heart pounding in your chest, you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the inevitable impact. The car barreled toward the edge of the cliff, the headlights illuminating the path ahead. The lake below was dark and foreboding, the water churning, the waves crashing against the shore.

As the car neared the precipice, Bucky glanced at you, "Ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," you responded, your voice shaky.

"Hold on tight," he instructed, his gaze fixed on the rapidly approaching edge of the cliff. The car's engine roared, and the wind rushed through the broken windows, tousling your hair.

You stole a quick glance at Bucky, his expression unreadable but resolute. "Any last words of wisdom?" you quipped, trying to mask the nervous flutter in your stomach.

"Enjoy the view," he replied, a sly grin forming. "It's about to get interesting."

As the car teetered on the brink, Bucky's foot slammed on the brakes, causing the vehicle to skid to a stop just at the edge. The abrupt halt sent you both lurching forward, hearts pounding.

He turned to you, an amused glint in his eyes. "Thought I'd give you a little scare."

"Are you serious?" you exclaimed, a mix of relief and exasperation flooding through you. "We could have died!"

Bucky chuckled, his laughter blending with the distant sounds of pursuit. "But we didn't. Sometimes a fake-out is all you need."

The sirens grew louder, and you both knew the charade couldn't last. Bucky glanced at the lake below. "Ready for the real thing?"

With a nod, you steeled yourself for the plunge. "Let's make it count."

Bucky released the brakes, and the car descended, gravity pulling it towards the dark water below. The wind rushed past your ears, the cold water engulfing you, the sound of the engine dying. For a moment, all you could see was darkness, the cold water enveloping you, the weight of the car dragging you deeper.

You fumbled with the seatbelt, the pressure of the water making every movement sluggish. Bucky's gloved hand reached over, assisting you in the frantic struggle to unfasten the restraint. Then he kicked the car's door, hastening its descent as the water rushed in. You couldn't breathe, the weight of the car and the water pressure keeping you submerged.

Amidst the chaos, Bucky signaled for you to follow him while the relentless pursuers continued to fire at the sinking car. However, your mind fixated on the artifact, you tried to reach it, you weren't going to leave it after risking so much to acquire it.

Bucky, seeing what you were trying to do, grabbed your arm silently urging you to leave the bag behind. How could you, though, after the life-threatening ordeal you'd just faced? Bucky swam towards you, grabbing you by the waist and dragging you out of the car. He shook his head, signaling that there was no time for anything. You knew he was right, but the artifact was so close...

You shook your head and swam away to get the artifact, your lungs burning. You weren't going to leave without it. The car was almost completely submerged, and the gunshots from above had ceased. Bucky reached for you, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards him. He shook his head, but you pushed him away.

You swam towards the car, reaching for the artifact. Your fingers brushed against it, but you couldn't grab it. ‘Come on, come on.’ you thought to yourself. With a final burst of effort, you freed the bag and kicked toward the surface, the light growing brighter.

Bucky helped you up, the pair of you gasping for air. You looked at him, your heart racing, the artifact clutched in your hand. You'd done it.

"Y/N, are you okay?" He asked, his voice filled with concern.

You nodded, the chill of the water seeping into your bones. "I'm fine," you replied, your teeth chattering in the cold. “What about you?”

"I've had worse," he replied, a wry smile playing on his lips. "We should get to the shore before they figure out we're still alive."

With the artifact clutched tightly in your hand, you swam toward the lake's edge, Bucky by your side. The pair of you trudged through the mud, the cold water weighing down your clothes. Your feet were numb, your muscles aching. You had no idea how far you'd swum, but it had felt like an eternity.

He guided you out of the water, his warmth a welcome contrast to the frigid air. Wrapped in his solid embrace, you both moved towards the side of the road, the distant sirens growing louder by the second.

"Here," he offered, extending his leather jacket to shield you from the biting cold.

"Thank you," you murmured, grateful for his thoughtfulness.

"No worries," he replied, a soft smile on his face.

The pair of you were quiet for a moment, the sound of the police sirens getting closer. You knew the authorities would be looking for the crashed car, and you knew you didn't have much time.

You pulled out a syringe from your pocket and injected him with the sedative, knocking him into the ground. You looked down at him, he looked up at you, his eyes filled with confusion and betrayal. "Sorry, handsome."

Within second, he fell unconscious. You looked down at his sleeping face, your heart swelling with affection. You knew you'd never see him again, but you hoped that he'd have a long, happy life.

You gently kissed his forehead, your lips lingering for a moment. "Thank you, Bucky," you whispered. "For everything."

And with that, you disappeared into the night, the artifact in your hands, the weight of a successful mission bringing a smile to your face.

But a little part of your heart remained with him, the memory of his warmth and kindness. You knew it was foolish, but you couldn't help but wish for a different life. One where you could be with him, a normal life with a man who would cherish you and protect you.

"Maybe in another life," you sighed, and the reality of the mission set in.

You left him there, your feet carrying you to safety. You knew he'd be angry, you had a job to do, and you were going to do it. You looked around, the sounds of sirens filling the night. You slipped away, disappearing into the darkness.

To be continued....

I understand there's no smut in this part, and I've left you with a bit of a cliffhanger. Don't worry, though! I promise the next part will more than make up for it. Bucky is on his way, determined to find her. Stay tuned for the steamy sequel!

Thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed this, please leave a comment and let me know what you think!

#marvel x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #marvel x you #marvel x y/n

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deliciousangelfestival · 1 year ago

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Kiss Me If You Can || Part 3

Character: Bucky Barnes x Thief!Reader

Words Count: 1,830

Part 1,- Part 2, Part 3,-

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Feeling awkward after Bucky's last words, Y/N returned the diamond necklace to the snobbish millionaire Richard a few days later.

Furious and humiliated, Richard, desperate to catch the phantom thief, opted to use the media instead of calling the police, tarnishing his name.

Enraged that now everyone knew of the phantom thief, Bucky sought out Steve, whom he hadn't seen in a long time. Since Steve became a judge and Bucky got promoted, it’s difficult for them to meet.

Bucky cut to the chase at the coffee shop and told Steve, “Your sister is the phantom thief.”

Steve glanced at his friend but remained unresponsive.

Arms crossed, Bucky pressed, “So, you already knew?”

Steve sighed. “It's not something I should be proud of. Did you expect me to call you and announce that my sister became a thief?”

Bucky rested his arm on the table and leaned closer. “What's her reason?”

Steve didn't look directly at Bucky. He poured sugar into his coffee, “You know our grandmother was completely biased toward Y/N because of her acrobatic skills, right?”

Bucky nodded, familiar with Steve's family dynamics. “Your grandmother is a famous circus producer.”

Remembering their grandparents, adventurous on one side and a librarian on the other, Bucky couldn't help but draw parallels to his own relationship with Y/N.

Sipping his coffee, Steve explained, “When my grandmother died, she left a letter and a key for Y/N. After that, she joined my grandmother's circus and traveled worldwide.”

“Let me guess, that led her to become the phantom thief.”

Steve nodded, “Hmm.”

Bucky went silent for a while. He tapped the table with his fingers, “I don’t think you completely ignored Y/N, Steve. The reason you became a judge is to help her if she got into trouble.”

Steve didn't rebuke.

“You’re a good brother, Steve. But still, what she did is wrong. I need to get her before anyone else.”

Concerned for his sister's safety, Steve pleaded, “I don’t know where she is. If you catch her, and I hope you do, please don’t let her escape.”

Bucky nodded.

Steve asked concern etched on his face, "After learning the truth, do you still like my sister?" His eyes held a mixture of worry and hope, reflecting his complex emotions for his best friend and sister.

Without any hesitation, Bucky answered, “I don't want anyone else.”

Steve sipped his coffee, a hidden smile behind the cup. He was glad his best friend cared for Y/N even after learning the truth.

“She will come to the challenge. I’m sure both of you will meet again.”

The day arrived. Richard made the challenge at his house, surrounded by police and media. Arriving with his secretary, Richard proudly showed off the jewelry and set a trap to catch the phantom thief.

Bucky infuriated with Richard, “You're risking everyone's safety for your own amusement! You fool!”

Richard scoffed, leaving Bucky with some choice words before departing rudely.

The female secretary, standing beside Bucky, stayed silent. “Smile for the camera, Bucky.”

Bucky scowled, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Y/N in her phantom thief disguise. "You have the nerve to show up, Y/N."

Y/N smirked, "Someone has to put the snobby man in his place."

Bucky crossed his arms, maintaining a cold demeanor. "Breaking into houses and stealing jewels isn't the way to do it."

"Ah, but it's so much more thrilling, don't you think? Keeps the wealthy on their toes." Y/N pulled and took off her button-shirt that almost showed her bra string.

Bucky shook his head, a mix of exasperation and amusement. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Bucky turns his head away “What are you doing?”

“His own secretary gives this disguise. While I’m here, she’s taking a break.”

Y/N's gaze held a glint of mischief. "That's why you can't resist chasing after me, isn't it, Bucky?"

"Well, I prefer a bit more mystery," she replied, her tone teasing.

Bucky leaned in, a sly grin playing on his lips. "If you're after something valuable, you don't need to break into places. I'm right here and come with my own set of perks."

Y/N, caught off guard by Bucky's bold remark, felt a heat rising to her cheeks. She stammered for a moment, momentarily speechless. Regaining her composure, she shot him a sly smile.

"But I'll keep that tempting offer in mind. Enjoy the show, Bucky." With that, she gracefully slipped away, leaving Bucky with a mixture of surprise and anticipation lingering in the air.

As the orchestration of the heist unfolded, Y/N seamlessly moved through the shadows, her every move a calculated dance—the target: Richard's prized family heirloom, a breathtaking diamond necklace.

The opulence of the mansion provided a stark contrast to the clandestine mission she embarked upon.

Silently disarming security systems and slipping through laser grids, Y/N reached the grand display room. The diamond necklace glittered within its ornate glass case, a captivating prize that promised wealth and a challenge that fueled her adrenaline.

With nimble fingers, she skillfully bypassed the intricate lock mechanism, and the coveted necklace was now in her possession. The thrill of the heist coursed through her, a heady mixture of triumph and exhilaration.

However, the mansion had secrets, and Y/N's escape triggered secondary security measures. Alarms blared, casting an ominous red hue across the room.

Unbeknownst to her, a concealed security detail sprang into action. The night echoed with the sharp report of a gunshot.

The bullet grazed her leg, leaving a searing pain in its wake. Despite the injury, Y/N pressed on. The wound, a mere scrape from the bullet, throbbed with each movement.

As Y/N navigated the escape route, the pain from the leg injury slowed her down, bringing her dangerously close to capture. The distant sound of approaching footsteps heightened the tension.

Just when it seemed like the end, Bucky appeared from the shadows, a silent savior in the night.

His strong arm wrapped around Y/N, and he guided her through the labyrinthine alleys. Their hurried footsteps echoed the urgency of the moment.

Y/N, wincing from the pain, glanced at Bucky, her eyes revealing a mix of gratitude and surprise.

Maintaining his stoic demeanor, Bucky muttered, "You really know how to get yourself into trouble, don't you?"

Y/N smiled teasingly, "Well, where would the fun be if I didn't?"

Bucky rolled his eyes. It’s not the time to make a joke.

In the dimly lit room, Bucky brought Y/N to his place to tend to her injury, but she insisted that the wound was nothing to worry about. Gently placing her down, he uttered a stern "Be good," an order that caught Y/N off guard and made her blush. The Bucky she used to know seemed to have transformed into a grown man.

She recalled his earlier words, "Next time I catch you, you won't be leaving my bed."

The desire to leave crossed her mind. However, Bucky, sensing her hesitation, caught her arms and urged her to stay. His worry for her safety was evident; he knew Richard had hired an expert to catch the phantom thief, and he couldn't bear the thought of anyone harming Y/N.

Amid the tension, Bucky decided to lay the truth bare, "Y/N, you need to understand. Richard has hired someone to catch the phantom thief, and they're professionals. I can't let you go out there and get hurt."

Looking into his eyes, Y/N detected a mixture of concern and genuine care, "Bucky, I appreciate your concern, but I've handled worse situations before. I can take care of myself."

Bucky sighed, holding her arms firmly, "This is different, Y/N. They're not playing around. I can't stand by and let something happen to you."

Y/N, realizing the depth of his worry, softened her expression, "Bucky, I've been doing this for a while. I know how to handle situations.”

Bucky's expression shifted, torn between his duty and his feelings, "That doesn't mean I want you risking your life like this."

The air in the room crackled with unspoken tension after their banter. The adrenaline from the daring escape lingered between Bucky and Y/N, creating a charged atmosphere. Bucky couldn't help but notice how Y/N looked at him, a mixture of amusement and more.

Amidst the charged silence, Y/N couldn't resist a teasing comment, "You're so fucking adorable."

Her words hung in the air, adding to the palpable tension. Feeling the moment's weight, Bucky leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss against Y/N's lips. The sensation was electrifying, and it left both of them breathless.

Y/N, her cheeks flushed, broke the silence with a playful yet earnest remark, "Kiss me like that again, and I'm going to think you really love me."

Bucky, caught off guard by the admission, looked into her eyes with a newfound vulnerability, "I've been in love with you since I was a kid."

Y/N blushed, the realization sinking in, and the room became charged with a different kind of tension that had been lingering for years and was now impossible to ignore.

********

As the night deepened, Bucky and Y/N were enveloped in a quiet intimacy that transcended the day's events. In the softly lit room, there was a quiet understanding between them, a safe place where the burdens of their lives felt lighter for a while.

Y/N lay beside Bucky, her breathing soft and steady, the rhythmic melody of slumber weaving through the air. Bucky, captivated by the moment, couldn't help but be drawn to her.

With a gentle touch, he brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his fingertips lingering on her cheek. Bucky couldn't resist the urge to lean in in the stillness, pressing a feather-light kiss to Y/N's forehead.

*********

The following day, Bucky slowly opened his eyes, expecting to see Y/N beside him. To his mild disappointment, the space next to him was empty. A flicker of worry crossed his face as he glanced around the room, hoping she hadn't left.

With a soft sigh, Bucky got up and headed to the living area. As he entered, he caught the aroma of a delicious breakfast that had been prepared, and his favorite dishes were neatly arranged on the table.

A smile touched his lips; it seemed Y/N remembered even the most minor details about him.

His eyes then fell upon a small letter on the table with a smiley face. Bucky picked it up, unfolding it to reveal the words, "Thank You, Bucky."

But it wasn't just the gratitude that caught his attention; Y/N had written something more behind the letter.

"You're not a bad kisser, Barnes. Keep that in mind for our next encounter. - Y/N"

As Bucky read the playful note, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He will keep chasing Y/N without any question since she's the thief who stole his heart.

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stuckymonkey · 1 year ago

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Thief

College Bucky Au

Pairing - college!bucky x fem!reader

Summary - When y/n finds herself stuck with a very annoying study buddy who cannot shut up about the quarterback, Bucky Barnes, she can't help but vent to a charming boy named James...

Warnings - use of y/n, reader is female, implications of smut?

Word count - 2k

a/n - my first time writing with this style and ship! also my first time writing on this blog :D I hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

masterlist bucky masterlist

It's been two hours of trying to study for our physics quiz with some girl named Vic from my class. She couldn't shut up about how her date had been with the school's quarterback, Bucky Barnes. "I really think he's the one, you know?" she had said with heart eyes as she twirled her curly hair around her finger.

Vic's notes remained untouched. I nodded and hummed while copying down equations and formulas. She obviously didn't mind my disinterest, continuing to talk about how Bucky had complimented her necklace and the perfume she wore.

Checking the time on my phone, I gratefully noticed it was time for me to head back to my dorm with Nat and Carol. "I know he has a reputation as a bit of a player, but I swear I'm the exception. You should see the way he looks at me!" her jaw dropped as if she couldn't believe it herself. "Mhm, well it was really nice working with you but I have to get back to my dorm. Catch you later?" I asked while scurrying to gather my stuff. "Yeah, for sure!!"

I bolted out of the library and down the dark sidewalk to my dorm. I enjoyed the slight autumn breeze and rustle of the leaves as I walked down the sidewalk. Soon enough I saw the lights from our building come into view, walking faster to get into the warmth of our room. I burst into our dorm, wasting no time in talking about my night.

"Natasha, that was horrible. The entire time Vic talked about Bucky Barnes like he was a God," I started setting my stuff down on our island while I talked, "She went on and on about their date and how she's sure he's the one." I imitated in a high voice. "It was disgusting. Like I get he's the quarterback but how good can he seriously be?? Anyways, I at least got some notes done. How was your night?" That was when I noticed Natasha's boyfriend, Steve and one of his friends was sitting on our couch.

"Hi Steve." I waved. Steve was smirking at his friend. He went to introduce him but was quickly cut of by a "Hi, I'm James." He grinned and stuck his hand out for me to shake. "Sorry about your study session" he said with a smile. "It's no big deal. How's the game?" They were watching college football on our living room tv. "Good, it's just in the final quarter." his smile reached his eyes and crinkled them around the edges.

The rest of our night was spent watching football, eating snacks and drinking wine or beer. When the game ended and everyone started yawning, Steve and James decided to go. "Bye," Nat kissed Steve goodbye, before stepping back from the door with me and Carol. James waved with a boyish grin on his face before leaving with Steve.

The next day we were heading to a football game, one of the last before thanksgiving break. Being pre-med I didn't go to many games, and I couldn't help but wonder if I would see the infamous Bucky Barnes. Nat and Wanda led me to the change rooms to help Thor sort out his hair, something I would usually do for him prior to the game, but today he said it would be better to do it here since I was coming anyway.

Once in the changeroom I saw many familiar faces, Tony, Steve, Sam, Peter, Pietro and now James. I caught James' eye and waved. He waved back with that same attractive grin. I started braiding Thor's hair while everyone else got ready for the game. Soon it was time for me to find Natasha and Wanda so I could sit down and watch the game. Thor and the rest of the team bid me goodbye as I left.

"So, what do you think of James?" Wanda asked, earning an elbow to the side from Nat. I quirked my eyebrow at her actions, "He's nice, and cute." "She's blushing!" said Wanda. "I am not! I'm just wearing a lot of layers, it is fall you know." "There's Steve!" Nat called, pointing to the field as the players started to come out. "Does anybody know what number James is?" I asked innocently. Nat just shook her head.

After the game, we went back down to the changerooms so Nat could see her boyfriend and Wanda could see her brother. "Y/n! Your braid held up amazing today! Thank you!" Thor bellowed as soon as he noticed us. "You're welcome Thor! I'm glad it worked." I said with a laugh. I found myself alone as Nat and Wanda left, but not for long.

"So, I heard your study session went pretty bad. Want a different partner maybe?" I turned around to see James. "Are you offering to help me study physics James?" "Maybe I am doll," he smirked, "I promise not to brag about Bucky Barnes or any football players. Scout's honour." he said, holding up one of his hands in a very serious manner. I couldn't help but laugh at his antics. "Well with a promise like that, you sure do make it hard to resist." I smiled. "It was that bad, huh?" he seemed closer than he was before. "Yes! The entire time she went on about Bucky and how amazing their date had gone. She said he was a known player but that he had a special spot for her or something. It was crazy. She even told me he was the one. Last time I checked, playboys don't have 'the one'" his smile seemed to dim at this. "Yeah, I guess you're right, doll." I loved that nickname. I felt butterflies everytime he said it. "Well, I'll give you my number, maybe you'll have better luck the second time around?" he offered. His confidence didn't seem as high as it was before. "Of course!" I said before handing him my phone and taking his. I put Y/n with a flower beside it before handing it back. He had put in his contact as 'James'.

A week later, James and I found ourselves in the library, notes open, with drinks and pens scattered everywhere. We had been talking daily in the days leading up to this and he seemed like a really sweet guy. He was raised by his single mother, Winnie, who he adored, he had a sister named Rebecca and he's been playing football with Steve since they were 11. They seemed like great friends, I couldn't help but wonder why I hadn't met him sooner.

Three hours in, our drinks were gone and my head felt all foggy. James was an incredible study partner. He chatted with me every now and then, always a welcome break from copying down notes. He was smart and helpful without being a nuisance like Vic. "Thank you," I said. He looked up at me with tired crystal blue eyes. "For being an amazing study partner." I smiled. He smiled softly, "I didn't talk too much?" "You did perfect. 10/10. We should definitely do this again." he grinned and let out a low laugh. "Alright then. I think it looks like you found a new study buddy." "That I did."

Me and James kept up our study sessions for weeks, and the habit of texting daily. We made frequent visits to a cute cafe on campus, usually spending an hour or more per week. During those hours we tended to do more talking than anything. My phone pinged with a notification,

James

Text me when you can. Not urgent, just need to talk.

That was weird. I went downstairs to talk to Wanda and Nat about it. "Have you guys noticed anything weird with James?" I asked. They shared a look that made me feel like they knew something I didn't. "Guys?" "Y/n, I think it's better if he tells you." Wanda said with a slight frown. What could have happened? Was he okay? I immediately opened my phone and told him to meet me at our cafe in ten minutes.

"Y/n?" he asked, seeing me at our usual table. I stood up once I saw him. He looked gorgeous, with a black coat, fresh jeans and a plain white tee. His hair looked a little messy, like he had just gotten up. "Are you keeping something from me? Are you okay?" "Y/n-" "No! If there's something wrong, I deserve to know James! I'm your friend, I know you don't have to tell me, but I care about you and-" "Y/N!" heads turned from other tables and the chatter died down for a moment after James had yelled. "Y/n, I am not sick, and I'm sorry for yelling. My name is James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky Barnes." I looked at him wide eyed. I was shocked. He didn't seem like a playboy, or self obsessive. Or anything Vic had described. Except for charming.

"Okay." "That's it? I've been guilty about this for weeks y/n/n." "And you should be! You technically lied to me. Why didn't you just tell me J- Bucky?" He kept avoiding my gaze. "Because then you would know I was a player and self obsessed." He seemed shameful and his face lacked any trace of a smile, instead it had traces of guilt.

"You don't seem like a player or like that at all. I actually really like you." I'm sure I was blushing at this point, and his head shot up from where he was looking at his shoes. "Really?" "Really. You're sweet, you care about your team, friends and family, especially your mom and Rebecca. You would do anything for your family or your team. You're giving and caring and you technically pretended to be someone you aren't just so we could see where this goes." "You think this is going somewhere, doll?" he smirked. "Maybe." I shrugged.

Tentatively he spoke, breaking our silence. "Y/n, would you like to go out with me?" "Hm...." I pretended to think, making his eyes widen. "Yes!" a breath of relief escaped him, and he stepped forward to wrap me up un a hug. I felt him place kisses to my hairline before he pulled back and smiled as he looked into my eyes.

I would never get tired of this view or this feeling. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and his hair was still messy. Crystal blues peered down into my own eyes. Pure adoration covered his face. "Well Barnes, where to?" "What do you mean doll?" "Didn't you just ask me out?" I giggled. "You mean like you want to go right now?" "Why waste anymore time, Bucky?"

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x fem reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #mcu #marvel mcu #marvel #college bucky

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cherryqueen88 · 1 year ago

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~Bucky Barnes Master List~

click here for Main Master List

~Bucky Barnes Tumblr~

~HEADCANONS~

✨Bucky Barnes SFW Headcanons @ohbuckysmetalarm

~ONE SHOTS~

✨Feel Again doctor!Bucky x Reader @wkemeup

Silent Girl + The Winter Soldier Bucky x Reader @kinanabinks

You're My Heaven Bucky x Reader @angrythingstarlight

Midnight Promises Bucky x Reader @fineprintedsunsets

✨here (doesn't have a title) Bucky x Shy!Reader @buckyalpine

✨Stealing Hearts Mob!Bucky x Thief!Reader @sinner-as-saint

Abandoned Bucky x Reader @queen-of-the-avengers

✨here (doesn't have a title) Bucky x Reader @buckyalpine

✨Safe and Sound Bucky x Librarian!Reader @sinner-as-saint

✨On his knees Hades!Bucky x Mortal!Reader @sweetsweetnuit

here (doesn't have a title) CEO!Bucky x Secretary!Reader @buckyalpine

here (doesn't have a title) Bucky x Reader @buckyalpine

Safe Haven Bucky x Reader @sinner-as-saint

Rescue Me Bucky x Reader @sinner-as-saint

Santa and Sunshine Bucky x Reader @sinner-as-saint

here (doesn't have a title) Biker!Bucky x Reader @sinner-as-saint

The Unseen Hades!Bucky x Reader @sinner-as-saint

Capital Letter Bucky x Reader @sinner-as-saint

Bad Guy Mafia!Bucky x Reader @sinner-as-saint

✨I can save you this time Bucky x Reader @pellucid-constellations

✨I Meant You Bucky x Reader @magicalqueennightmare

✨Faking it Bucky x Reader @pellucid-constellations

✨Step Foot Bucky Barnes x Reader @basicallybarnes

✨Battle Scars Bucky x Reader @time-for-a-lullaby

✨Happy Little Acidents Bucky x Female!Art Teacher!Reader @espinosaurusrexex

✨Firewood Lumberjack!Bucky x reader @mrsbarnesblog

✨Morning Delight Bucky x Reader @mrsbuckybarnes1917

~SERIES~

✨No Day but Today Bucky Barnes x artist!female reader @buckysfaveplum

✨Sun Rise Veteran!Bucky x Librarian!Reader @wkemeup

✨Fight for me Beefy!Bucky x Reader @littleseasiren

✨Trying Bucky Barnes x Reader @moonlight-prose

✨Blink Twice Bucky Barnes x Reader @simmerandwrite

✨Missing Piece Bucky x Reader @likeahorribledream

✨Safe with me Bucky x Reader @bitsandbobsandstuff

✨Undisclosed beefy!Bucky x Reader @pellucid-constellations

✨Pretty Women, this is me trying Bucky x Female Sexworker!Reader @captainsimagines

You're my sunshine Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader (Mob!Au Bodyguard!Au) @theeleggymeggy

✨Our home to heal Bucky x Reader @subwaysurf45

✨Heart Lines Bucky x Reader @buckyskorpion

✨Broken TFWS!Bucky x Reader @soulgazingwithbucky

Drifting CW!Bucky x Reader @real-jane

Something Domestic ex military amputee!Bucky x Reader @fandoms-writings

✨Under Pastel Skies Bucky x Reader AU (also on AO3) @redgillan

Yours to Wield Mob!Bucky x Reader @sinner-as-saint

✨A Little Rusty Mechanic!Bucky x Reader @subwaysurf45

✨Double Agent Bucky x Reader @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

Pride and Privacy Bucky x Reader @adrinktostopyourthirst

✨ Guys My Age AU Divorced!DILF!Neighbor!Bucky x Reader @valleyfae

~Bucky Barnes Wattpad~

✨Red-Bucky Barnes x OC author: leatherstuddedx

✨Safe with me author: bitsandbobsandstuff (this is also available to read on Tumblr-- can be found in my Tumblr Bucky Barnes list)

✨Rose author: cassidyhudspeth (couldn't link the story so I linked the authors account)

✨Recollection author: primuskat

✨Daybreak author: Big_turd_blossom

✨Haven author: mxrvelous- (couldn't link the story so I linked the authors account)

✨Hard to love author: Hoe4BuckyBarnes

✨HAPPY author: lilyroselilac24

✨missing pieces author: -BUCKYBXRNES

✨The ghost we hide author: galestxrm

~Bucky Barnes AO3~

✨The Hurt and The Healing by The_Grey_Lady_Weeps

✨What he did to me by opheliaapril

✨Moving forward by MadHatter2019

✨The Safety Deposit Box by tinytofuturle

✨The White Wolf by HumanDisorder

✨The Strong, Silent Type by Loloorenn

✨Coming in hot by adarasink

✨Good Heart (Faulty Machine of a Man) by lightninginmyeyes

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holylulusworld · 10 months ago

Text

Jealousy a la Bucky

Summary: He’s not jealous.

Pairing: (Soft)Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: jealous Bucky, Bucky is smitten for the reader, Steve being a tease, fluff, flirting

He’s not jealous. Never. He’s not even looking your way when you talk to one of his business partners. Nope. He’s not squaring his jaw or balling his hands into fists. No, of course not.

What he does is sulk at the bar, a pout on his lips, and a grumpy expression on his face. He nips at his drink while following your every move.

“That her?” Steve finally asks. He watched his friend stare at you from afar for almost half an hour. Now he wants to tease him. “I guess she’s good at making new friends, huh? A pretty dame like her. All alone. Wearing a dress like that.”

“First and final warning,” Bucky points his index finger at his friend and brother-in-crime. “I saved your life more than once. But I will take it if you say one more thing about that woman.”

“Aw, it finally happened,” sipping at his drink Steve watches his friend frown deeply. You giggle at something Clint Barton, one of his confidants and notorious weapon dealers, said. “James Buchanan Barnes is in love.”

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky grunts. “If you say one more word, you’ll lose your tongue and more.” He angrily glares at Barton, swearing on his mother’s grave he’ll kill the man if he dares to touch you. “I’m not in love.”

He’s not in love. Not at all. Of course, not. James Buchanan Barnes, a notorious mobster, and stone-cold weapon dealer doesn’t fall in love.

Then, why can’t he take his eyes off you, his sweet new assistant? The woman taking care of his life. “She brings me food and makes my appointments. Y/N is only my assistant. Stop acting like I lost my dead heart to that beautiful, caring, and sweet girl.”

“You are so in love with her,” Steve grins and raises his glass. “To James Buchanan Barnes, the most wanted bachelor who finally got tamed. I hope you know I want to be your best man at your wedding.”

Bucky glares at Steve. He wants to say something, or (and) punch his friend’s face when someone calls his name. Your sweet voice brings him out of his rage and back to reality.

“Mr. Barnes, you should eat something,” you clear your throat to get your boss’s attention. “Sir, I got you a plate filled with all the things you like.”

“All the things I like?” He drops his eyes to the plate you hold. “You mean all the things you like, doll.”

You giggle at the pet name. Bucky Barnes is a dangerous man, and you should be afraid to be even close to him. Oddly, you feel the safest around your boss. He’s a big teddy bear when it comes to you.

“Fine, I got you the same things I like so we can share.”

“You want to share the food with Bucky?” Steve swallows thickly when his friend snaps his head toward him. “He’s a food thief. You should keep a close eye on that food.”

“I like sharing,” you softly say. “Mr. Barnes often forgets to eat. I made it my mission to take care of him and his well-being.”

Steve chokes on his drink at the look Bucky gives you. Puppy dog eyes. James Buchanan Barnes looks at you like you are a miracle to him.

“Uh-cool,” the blonde says. “I’ll grab some food too. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Same,” you are busy offering food to your boss and barely look at Steve. “Now, what do you want to taste first?”

‘Your lips’, Bucky thinks to himself but doesn’t say it out loud. “What do you recommend?”

“We could start with the salmon and then, you should try the green asparagus. It’s delicious and the best I ever ate. OH, and they have the best desserts, Bucky.” You gasp as you just called your boss by his name. “I’m sorry, Sir…I didn’t…I…”

“My name sounds like a melody on your tongue,” Bucky grabs the salmon to wolf it down. You just stare at him, and let his words sink in.

“That was…” you snort. “Oh my god! So funny. I mean…sorry…but…that was the lamest pick-up line ever,” you step closer to whisper in his ear. “You know, if you like me, you can just ask me out.”

“It was poetic and—” He tries to argue until he realizes you kinda asked him out. “Do you want to go on a date with me, doll?”

“Phew, finally,” you smirk. “I wouldn’t have made it through the night if I talked to Mr. Barton for much longer. He wanted me to have a look at his bow. I still don’t know what he meant.”

“His bow?” Bucky hiccups. “That bastard wanted to show you his bow?”

“Hmm…I told him that you already offered to show me your gun.”

“Right now?” He nervously shifts on his feet, and hopefully looks at you.

“No,” you pat his chest and smile. “I don’t look at a man’s gun before the second date…or the third.”

“I bet you’ll make an exception for me,” he takes the plate out of your hands and throws it over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, doll. I’ll order room service for us.”

“I’m keeping you up on that promise, Sir…”

You will have room service, in Paris only a few hours later…

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #mobster!bucky #mobster!bucky barnes x reader #female reader #mafia au

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sarahowritesostucky · 7 months ago

Text

Happy Little Family

📖"Taking Back What's His"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6170

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic

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

This chapter: You try one last, desperate ploy to escape, but it doesn't exactly work out. And James hasn't come alone. The next time you wake up, you're a long way from home.

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" pchelka = "little bee"

2. Taking Back What's His

(Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!)

He says something to you, after. Words that might as well be in his native Russian, for how well you take them in. But they're soft, and reassuring—he’s pleased. His body weight moves off the bed.

When you finally open your eyes and blink up at the ceiling, it’s the softest baby pink all around the edges, like smoke curling into your vision. It’s nice, peaceful. Feels good-all-over in that way that painkillers do. You haven’t experienced it since the last time you had sex with an alpha.

Which James unfortunately seems to have figured out was with him, almost two years ago.

“Oh, kotenok, You haven’t been fucking anybody.”

You’re still in the afterglow, mind muzzy, all of your previous panic and fear blunted near to the point of erasure with how nice it feels to float, when you hear James’ pleased chuckle from where he’s getting dressed. He comes back and leans over you. “Hey Sweetheart. Feeling good?”

You frown at him, though it takes a concerted effort to make any expression of displeasure. You want him to know you aren’t happy, that this state he’s fucked you into isn’t real. You want to slap that smug fucking look right off his face. All you manage to come up with is a pouty little “no" that makes James laugh.

“Come here.” He fixes your dress, then helps you up off the bed. He seems to be checking to make sure you’re steady on your feet before he lets you stand on your own. “You good?”

“M’fine.” He knows you too well, knows how intense it can be for you, how strongly you react to him. You avoid his knowing gaze. You’re not completely useless like this. You can still remember everything that’s going on, can still remember June. “Please,” you say again, trying to change the tone of your voice. “Let me give her to Hilde.”

James rolls his eyes. “Right, right. Your friend across the street.”

“Please James?” You look up at him, pink edges all around his face, so pretty. Goddamn him. “She’ll be safe there.”

Again, something passes through his eyes too quickly for you to identify. It might be annoyance. He sighs, and the look, whatever it was, is gone. “Sure thing, Doll. Babies need a lot of stuff. You might as well pack up what she needs.”

You nod tearfully, going to your closet to grab a bag. He follows close behind, sending a clear message that he’s not planning on letting you out of his sights while you do this. James isn’t stupid, you’ll give him that.

In the nursery, June is happy to see you and wants you to pick her up. You talk to her in a sweet, placating voice as you go around the room grabbing different things that she’ll need and stuffing them in the bag. At this point you know to be grateful for the haze. Even as it tapers off, it’s blunting the sorrow that you know would otherwise have you sobbing and your voice clogging with tears. This way at least, you’re able to keep June thinking everything is alright. This way she isn’t scared.

It’s when you’re crouched beside the changing table, stuffing diapers into the bag with James behind you that you get the idea: Downstairs: the kitchen: in the drawer. Your gun.

You stop moving long enough that James notices. “What’re you doing? Come on.”

You stand back up. Yes. You have to do it. This is the only chance you have at getting out of this and not losing June. You lick your lips nervously before turning back around to face him. “I … have to get her bottles and stuff from downstairs,” you say, hoping that the lingering post-coital haze is enough to keep your true intentions off your face. Your eyes flick up to James, who’s squinting at your tits.

“Bottle?” He starts to smirk, and you glare at him.

“Yes. Asshole. I won’t exactly be around to feed her, now will I?”

His face softens at that and he gives you an apologetic look. “Right. Well go on, then.”

You move for the hallway, realize he’s not following you, and turn back in confusion. He’s beside the crib, holding his hand out for June to touch. Your heart leaps from your spot in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

He arches an eyebrow. “I’m waiting right here until you come back upstairs,” he says, his message clear.

Your pulse picks up, but you force yourself to nod. You’re useless without that gun. You have to get to it. He narrows his eyes at you while June giggles and reaches for his wiggling fingers. “No games.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, and turn and head for the stairs.

It’s pure torture to move at a casual speed, especially as your mind is clearing and the fearful emotions returning. In the downstairs hallway, you check once over your shoulder that James hasn’t followed you, then pick up your pace, hurrying into the kitchen and heading straight for the drawer where you keep the gun.

Your eyes tear up as you maneuver past the digital lock that you installed for nothing. June’s still crawling. She never even got old enough to toddle over here. You press the code into the keypad, cringing when it does its quiet little two-tone ‘beep’ at being unlocked. You wait, heart in your throat until you hear the mechanism moving, then rip open the drawer.

Your heart stops and your brain freezes and all you can think is: No. No, no no—

“Looking for this?”

You whirl around, and there he is: standing on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the sink as he holds your only weapon in his hands.

His face is relaxed, Goddamn him, as he pretends to ignore your horror and instead holds the gun up to flippantly inspect it. “I have to say, Doll, I’m impressed. I would’ve expected some puny girl gun. Ruger, Derringer. But this?” He turns the Skorpion in his hands, and chuckles softly when he sees the cartridge. “Jesus. You really wanted to blow a hole in somebody, didn’t you?” His eyes finally drag up to you, the hand he’s holding the gun with dropping down by his side as he starts walking over, slowly, step by step, eyes boring into you with a growing anger.

Oh shit. Dread curls in your gut but you’re frozen. Bolting now wouldn’t even get you to the staircase. He presses in close, pinning you against the countertop. He brings the gun up and nudges your jaw with it, leaning in and breathing in your face, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find it, vorishka?”[little thief]

He’s taunting you with your own failure, and you can’t stop the whimper that breaks from your throat at having your one and only plan foiled so pathetically easily. “James,” you plead, “I didn’t—”

“Shh sh sh. None of that, now.” He’s speaking softly, sweetly, but he’s furious. He drags his lips over your cheek and the barrel of the gun you stole from him over the other. “So what was the plan? How were you going to kill me with my own gun? Pop upstairs and shoot up the nursery?”

“N-no.”

“Ah. Right. You’re smarter than that. You would’ve waited for me to come down and see what the fuck was taking you so long, or put it in the duffle and waited until we dropped the whelp off at the neighbors. Is that it?"

You sniffle and nod, angry at him for being such an all-knowing asshole. “You can’t hold that against me,” you say, trying to defend yourself.

He nods thoughtfully. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose you’re right. I can’t blame you for that.” Your shoulders start to relax, that is until he pulls back to glare at you and holds the gun to you again, this time pointing it right underneath your chin. He looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “But do you know what I can hold against you, Little thief?” Your face pinches in fear, sure that you’re about to be shot, and he digs the muzzle cruelly into your skin, forcing you to look at him. “The fact that that pup up there is ten months old, and I’ve never even fucking seen her.”

Your eyes widen as you realize: he knows. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but he beats you to it.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell she’s mine?”

“James,”

“All this time!” he hisses, hurt lancing through his features. “You kept her from me! What gives you the right?”

“I—I didn’t—”

He growls and pushes away from you, several steps back, glaring. “Nothing, is the answer you’re looking for. You had no right to do that.”

You try to edge to the side, but freeze when he straightens his arm and points the gun right at you. “James, wait …”

He aims it at your face, but then lowers it for a center mass shot, which is what really convinces you you’re about to die. “Say goodbye, mamochka,” he says, with steely eyes and his finger curling over the trigger.

It’s a submachine gun that fires in three shot bursts, or fully automatic. Either way, you know you’re about to be riddled with bullets, so you start to hyperventilate. It’s an embarrassing reaction, but at least you have the dignity of knowing what your last words on this earth would’ve been. “Don’t hurt her,” you gasp.

His eyes fill with rage and he pulls the trigger.

… Nothing happens, but you’re bracing so hard that it takes you a full two or three seconds to realize it. Then, when you do realize it, and you see James standing there looking grim but completely unsurprised that you haven’t been shot, all of the breath rushes out of your lungs. You feel like you’re about to faint, which is apparently what he’s waiting for.

He ejects the empty magazine, shaking his head in disbelief. “You really thought I’d do it, didn’t you?” He takes a step forward, but pauses when you flinch back. “What the hell have you convinced yourself that I am?”

You step back again when he moves. “Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t.”

“Don’t, don’t,” he whispers, mocking you. “Don’t what? Don’t take back what’s mine? The mother of my pup? A pup I didn’t get to see grow or come into this world?” Your breath hitches with emotion and he doesn’t miss it, the bastard. “Yeah,” he says darkly. “You robbed me of that. But I’ll get over it, don’t worry.” He leers up and down your body in its flimsy sundress. “I’ll be putting another one in you real soon.”

You see red. Fury sweeps through you and stings your eyes, roars in your ears. You grab the nearest thing to you, which is the edge of the utensils crock on the counter. It spills over and your hand closes around the handle of the meat mallet. You cry out and swing at him, wanting to smash his smug fucking face to smithereens.

“Woah-ho, easy there.” He laughs and takes a surprised step back, as though you’re nothing but a tantruming child. “Stop being so dramatic.”

You growl and lunge for him again, but cut off in a shriek as someone suddenly grabs you from behind. The meat mallet clatters to the floor as you’re hauled back against the hard body of another man. One big arm wraps around your middle, and the other holds a cloth up at your face, pressing it over your mouth. “Mmph!” you yell out, muffled, and get a huge inhale of chlorine-like smell into your lungs for your trouble. You hold your breath and thrash, but it’s less than useless. The person holding you is large and strong. When you try to headbutt him, it doesn't even clip his chin. You bring your hands up to try and claw at the hand holding the cloth over your mouth, but your nails meet metal instead of skin, and you gasp in another inhale of chemicals as you realize who it is. “Mmph!”

James steps up close, smirking fondly as he watches you fighting the urge to inhale. Eventually he tuts and reaches up to cup your cheek. “Shhh, omegechka. Stop. Stop fighting now. It’s all over.”

“Nngh!”

“Just take a deep breath and go to sleep. Everything’ll be alright, I promise. Just relax.” You whimper as you feel yourself running out of air, knowing that your body’s going to force you to draw breath in a second. James leans in and kisses your forehead tenderly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers, just as your vision starts to fade out, “or our daughter.”

The smell of professionally scented, circulating air hits you first, and then the taste of old pennies in your mouth. Then, a gradually increasing sense of awareness of your body in space and time. At first you think you're somewhere very bright, as colors and rainbows dance through your lashes, but the more you blink your eyes open, the more the brightness fades and your vision comes into focus.

And there he is: holding a crystal tumbler and looking like he's been waiting for you to come round. "Well hello there, Sleepyhead,” he says. “Welcome back." He takes a sip of whatever it is he’s drinking, the ice cubes clinking softly against the sides of the glass. He looks totally relaxed.

You sit up straighter in the seat where you’d been slumped, moving your tongue around inside of your dry mouth and trying to remember what happened. And then reality hits you in waves, each one more devastating than the last:

James—He found you.

June—She's not there.

"How're you feeling? Thirsty?"

You blink, dazed, a few lingering specks still floating at the edges of your vision. You look around the room you’re in, clocking your surroundings. Windows, cabin—Shit. You're already on a plane. Pressure builds rapidly at the backs of your eyes as you fight not to cry, thinking of your baby girl left behind, never getting to see her again.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye.

Bucky’s eyes sharpen on you when your stifled sob breaks out and you throw a hand over your mouth. "Steve,” he says, still watching you in concern. “Get her a bottle of water."

“Sure thing, boss.”

And then the worst realization of all: You look over and see the winter fucking soldier walking down the aisle, holding your baby.

They've got June.

Your eyes widen and you make a distressed little ‘meep’ of a sound. “Steve!” you blurt, and he turns to face you. He looks surprised that you’ve spoken directly to him. He’s not wearing his usual black mask, but he still looks huge and intimidating, and it’s like seeing a wild animal right next to your baby—dangerous, wrong. Your mouth works uselessly as you stare at his hands on June’s body: one supporting her head, and the metal one scooped under her butt. You see her back rise and fall steadily through her bumblebee onesie and you realize that she’s asleep. “I-is she okay?” you ask, heart in your throat.

Steve’s eyes narrow at you, but he nods curtly. “She’s fine.”

Across from you, James scoffs, drawing your attention back to him. “He’s going to put her down. There’s a crib in the back. She’ll be fine,” he says, when he sees you stiffen in protest. “You and I have some catching up to do, vorishka.”

“I thought we did that back in my bedroom,” you snap.

“You still want the water?” Steve asks.

“That’s okay.” Bucky keeps his eyes on you. “I’ll take care of her. You just stay back there with pchelka while she sleeps.”

Steve nods, and you can’t help yourself. “Wait! Please. Please give her to me. Steve?” You sit forward with your arms outstretched, but can only watch helplessly as the other man obeys Bucky and ignores you, disappearing back into the next section of the plane. Bastard never did like you.

“She’ll be fine,” Bucky assures you. “Just sit back and relax. We won’t be in the air for too long.”

You hate it, but you do sit back in the chair. James won’t hurt her. You know that. Especially now that you know he knows. You look around the cabin, taking in the wide, leather seats and gleaming wood finishes. There’s a couch, tv, a bar. A fucking electric fireplace. It's the sort of luxury you used to go starry-eyed over; incredibly rich men, fat or old or ugly, tripping all over themselves to spoil you.

… Only, James was never any of those things.

“This is your plane?” you ask, dragging your hand over the arm of your seat.

James smirks. “What? You thought I’d kidnap you and then fly commercial?”

You purse your lips at his joke. “I guess not.” You relax back, trying to get your bearings. It is bad news that you’re already on a plane with him. You’ll be landing at his private airstrip at the Siberia compound, which gives you no middle ground to run. You bite your lip as your thoughts race and you try to think of anything you might be able to do once you get to—

“Stop it,” James says quietly, drawing your attention back to him. He’s giving you a stern look. “You barely got away before, and that was on your own. Now we’ve got our daughter. Anything you try will put her in unnecessary danger and you know that.” He shakes his head, some of that sadness from before creeping back into his eyes. “You’re not leaving me again, omegechka.”

“I’m not?” you echo, stuck in place by his stare, by the memories you share with him, and the fear you have of what he’s planning for your punishment. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m just taking back what’s mine, Sweetheart. You do realize that?” You fail to answer him and his gaze hardens just a little bit. “That’s okay. You’ll see it eventually. This isn’t a bad thing. If you had just stuck around a little longer instead of lying to me and running off, then you would’ve seen it before, and we wouldn’t have to be going through this right now.” He raises his drink to you in a little salute. “You, me, and pchelka? We’re going to be a family.”

You don’t refuse the water he gives you, or the drink that he mixes for you, after. If James wanted to keep you drugged up until reaching Siberia, he certainly could’ve done so without allowing you to wake up on the plane. You’re only conscious right now because he wants you to be. And because you know that, you don’t protest the drink he prepares for you over at the bar. To be honest, a stiff one actually sounds really good right about now.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he hands it over, still unmoored by this drastic shift in circumstances. A few hours ago you’d been safe in your cottage, then suddenly you weren’t. One minute you’re sure you’re about to get a bullet in the face from this man, and the next, he’s got you sipping thousand dollar vodka on his private jet, calmly explaining how he intends to keep you and force you into some twisted form of domestic bliss.

“I had a whole renovation done for her,” he tells you. “Pchelka will have plenty of room to play and grow.”

You frown, hating the idea of your daughter growing up in that cold, Siberian fortress. You don’t care if he’s bought her an indoor waterslide and a herd of ponies. It’s no place for a child. “What does that mean?” you ask grumpily. “That word: chelk—? You keep using it. You can’t just rename my daughter.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he wipes it away fast. “Pchelka means little bee. The outfit you put her in has bees on it.”

“Oh … Right.” You love that set. It’d been another gift at the shower, from Hilde.

“And she’s my daughter too,” James says tightly.

You gulp at the bitterness in his tone, at his eyes boring into you with reproach. It’s silly, but you do feel bad about hurting him in this one way, at least. “Her name is June,” you offer quietly.

His face draws tight with emotion that’s impossible for you to decipher. Mostly you just sense hurt coming off of him, tingeing his scent and making it into something mournful and awful. He stares at you for a long time. “You made me think you’d lost it,” he eventually whispers. “How could you do that to me?”

You shake your head. “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not. You’re just sorry that I found you.”

“I saw you kill people, James!” you cry. “I saw who you really are. I couldn’t stay. Not after that.”

His mouth ticks up at the corners. “Oh, Sweetheart. You’ve got no idea who I am, or what I’ve done for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His eyes gleam and he lifts his drink, tipping back the last of it. “Do you even remember where we met?”

You frown. “Of course.” You’d met him on a yacht, off the coast of Greece. At a party you’d been paid to attend as one of a flock of similarly hired ‘pretty girls’. Five hundred bucks just to sit around and drink cocktails for a few hours and make whoever owned the yacht look like a successful playboy. James had taken one look at you and made it his mission to charm you off of that boat with him. And you’d fallen for it, hook line and sinker. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You don’t know as much as you think you do,” he says disdainfully. “Don’t know how lucky you really are. I saved you.”

You scoff. “You’re no different from those boat guys. You think you’re so special, God’s gift to omegas, I get it.”

“No,” he grits. “You really don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t know! I know what I saw. All over the floor of your goddamn office. I slipped in it for Christ’s sake!”

“Right, right. The men you saw me kill,” he says, referencing the scene you’d walked in on just before you’d faked your miscarriage and fled. “You were eavesdropping outside the door, weren’t you, Little thief?”

You jut your chin out. “Yes. So what?”

“You know, I’d always assumed you heard the entire conversation. Now I realize I was wrong.”

“What?”

He laughs under his breath—at your expense, you suspect. “Who exactly do you think they were?”

“Your business associates. The same sort of underworld, black market scum as you. Only they didn't work for you. You screwed them over and they were there to collect what you owed them, and you murdered them instead.”

James scoffs and smiles angrily, sticking his tongue into his cheek as he looks away in frustration. "Figures," he mutters.

“What?” you snap. “You’re gonna deny it?”

“I’m not denying anything. But I killed them for you.”

“Oh please. Just stop it. Stop lying! I know what you do for work.”

Granted, you'd been a little slow on the uptake back then, too enamored and swept up in the whirlwind romance with your first Alpha that you hadn’t ever stopped to wonder where his money came from, or where it was he jetted off to “on business” every few days. It’d taken a year for you to piece it together, to see the true magnitude of the enterprise he ran, and how dark it really was.

Sitting in front of you now, he doesn’t deny it, which only bolsters your disdain for him. “I don’t want that in my life,” you hiss. “Arms dealing, drugs, smuggling, mercenaries. And apparently human trafficking as well.”

His eyes flash. “They don’t call it that, you know. It’s called the ‘skin trade’.”

“I don’t care.”

He gets up to go pour himself another drink at the bar. “Right,” he snaps, like you’re an idiot. “You’re so fucking naïve, krasotka [pretty (n.)]. So convinced that I’m the devil. But you have no idea how much worse it could’ve been for you.”

“You threatened to sell your own daughter before you figured out she was yours!”

Refusing to be provoked, he returns to stand right in front of you, forcing you to look up at him towering over you. “I knew she was mine from the second I walked in that house,” he says, making your breath catch.

“How?”

He smiles nastily and takes a sip from his drink, then sets it aside. He leans over you with his hands on the back of your seat, caging you in. You can smell the expensive alcohol on his breath as he gets in your face and tells you, “I put that baby in you, moya omegya. She’s a part of me. You think I wouldn’t be able to figure that out? Think an Alpha doesn’t know the scent of his own flesh and blood?”

You tense, fighting not to shrink away. “You’re making that up.”

He chuckles lowly and puts his face right next to yours, cheek to cheek, savoring your reaction. “Sweetheart,” he purrs, “I may not have forced a mating bite on you back then like I should have, but there are other ways to leave your mark on someone.” He dips in to kiss your neck, right over your unbitten glands. “I found you by your scent,” he whispers. “Sniffed you out.”

You shiver at his hot breath on your skin and the deadly soft tone of his voice. The way your body responds to him isn’t anything you can control, and he knows that, but it still makes you flush with embarrassment when he takes a deep inhale in the bend of your neck and hums with satisfaction when he smells the effect he’s had on you. “I wouldn’t have sold her anyway,” he tells you, pulling back and picking up his drink. “I want you to know that. I don’t participate in the skin trade.”

You swallow thickly, watching him watch you as he waits for you to react to him in some way. You don’t know why you believe him about this one thing, but you do. “But you’re aware of it,” you say. “You know it happens, and you don’t do anything to stop it.”

His jaw works in frustration. “I’ve interfered a time or two, when I could get away with it.”

“Well, aren't you a hero.”

“I didn’t say that,” he snaps. “I said I’ve done what little I could. These men make a lot of money dealing in omegas, and they don’t take kindly to being stolen from.”

“I can imagine.”

“No,” he mutters into his drink. “You really can’t.”

There’s something oddly bitter in his tone, like he's working hard not to tell you something. You bite your lip and watch him for a minute. “... How much?” you ask.

“What?” His eyes darken when he figures out what you’re asking. “No.”

“Tell me.”

“It depends,” he grits, glaring at you. "Now cut it out."

Sober, you might have; but half a vodka spritzer after nineteen months of no alcohol has you bolder than you usually would be. You look down at yourself, feigning flippancy. “Well what about me? How much would I go for?”

“Kotenok,” he warns lowly, growling when you continue to press him with a snotty little,

“Come on, I thought you were such a dangerous criminal? You can’t even discuss a little human trafficking with the weak omega you just trafficked?”

He probably knows you’re trying to antagonize him, but he still rises to the bait. He sits back and lets his eyes drag over your body in a way that makes your pulse pick up. “Well,” he drawls, “you just had a baby. So that’s less right there.” Your nostrils flare angrily and he gives you a look. “You’re the one who asked,” he reminds, waiting until you give him a nod to continue. He gives you another onceover, this time lingering in certain places longer, a softer look in his eyes for the softer parts of your body. He almost seems to get distracted. He catches himself overindulging and looks away, like it’s hurting him to consider you this way. “Most people want their omegas untouched,” he says quietly. “Especially if the buyer's alpha, which they usually are. It’s an instinctual thing for us. We’re very driven to possess. We don’t like to share.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” you mutter.

His gaze snaps back to you, a painful amount of familiarity in his eyes. “You’dve been a couple million, back when we first met.”

Your eyes widen. You weren't expecting that. “But … I wasn’t even a virgin.”

He arches an eyebrow. “I said untouched, not virginal. Not in that way. Alpha buyers want unbonded and never bred, first and foremost.” He leers at you. “Not that there aren’t some who’ll pay a little extra to pop a girl’s cherry. But that’s not the main thing they’re looking for, when they buy.”

You scowl. “Right. So I guess I’m damaged goods now."

“Oh no, mamochka,” he says seriously. “You’ve only gone up in value in my eyes. Though believe me when I say I’m more than happy to contribute to the depletion of your market value." He raises his glass to his lips, looking darkly pleased. “You’re not for sale, and you never will be. You’re mine.”

You're embarrassed to be the one to break eye contact first, but you can’t keep listening to him talk about how much he likes you and watching him look at you like you’re his most prized possession. With any other man you’d just be disgusted, but James has always had a knack for getting you flustered, and he knows it. There’s always been an inexplicable pull between the two of you, and he knows that, too. It’s the main reason why you've always refused his attempts to bond you. You're terrified of what it’ll be like after, since you already know how pathetically helpless you are around him without a bond.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you mumble quietly. “Where is it?”

“Just down there.” He nods in the direction behind you, opposite from where Steve had gone with June.

You press your lips together and get up without looking at him, but you can feel his eyes on you the entire time you’re walking away.

“Don’t take too long in there, kotenok,” he purrs from back in his seat. “Or I’ll have to come in after you.”

In the bathroom, you splash water on your face and lean against the sink, looking at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. You blink, and she blinks, but it feels like you’re looking at another person, someone you don’t know. She looks fragile. Tired, and dazed. June’s been sleeping through the night for months, but it’s been a hell of a day.

You scrutinize your reflection, smoothing your dress and tucking your hair behind your ears, thinking about how you have zero makeup on. Then you scoff at yourself for caring what you look like in front of him. You think about how much you’ve changed in the seventeen months since you ran away. Not just physically, but mentally. You’ve had to be so strong. For June, for yourself. It’s been awful, and lonely, and you’ve hated yourself for not being able to stop missing him.

You sniffle and splash more water on your face, grumpily thinking that postpartum hormones are so much worse than the pregnancy ones. You grab the towel off the wall, but freeze when you bring it up to pat your face dry and get a smell of it.

Oh.

You whimper, unable to keep from pressing it harder to your mouth and nose and inhaling deeply. It’s James’ scent, and it smells so good. It smells like Safety and Love and Alpha. You hear the sound of your own, needy mewl and you gasp, yanking the towel away from your face and tossing it into the sink, trying to keep your shit together. You brace your hands on the counter and glare at your reflection to tell her to stop it, stop it, stop it, but all it takes is seeing your lower lip quiver, and soon your entire face is collapsing in long-repressed sadness. You turn away from the mirror with a pathetic noise, throat aching from the urge to keen.

Why does this have to be happening?! You’ve tried so hard, for so long. To be strong for June, to get over him, to move on! You bury your face in your hands and choke on a wrenching sob. You know you have to be quiet, have to stop, have to pull yourself together before he—

A soft knock comes from outside the bathroom. “Doll?”

You whine and hastily search for a lock on the door, but there is none, and James hears your crying and pulls the door open. “Honey,” he mourns when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”

You push past him, hurrying in the direction he isn’t blocking. “Leave me alone!” you cry, hating the blubbering in your voice that makes you sound just as weak as James thinks you are. You arrive in a perfectly made up bedroom with no point of egress other than the one you arrived through. You whine in distress, circle around helplessly, and then throw yourself onto the bed when he arrives at the doorway looking worried. “Leave me alone!” you cry, curling onto your side and pulling one of the pillows down to bury your face in. At least it isn’t suffused with James’ scent. You still cry though, unable to keep it in anymore now that you’ve started.

He tuts sadly from the doorway and comes into the room slowly. He stands there for a long minute, silent, before he sighs and his weight comes onto the bed. “Sweetheart,” he says.

“Just leave me alone,” you whine miserably. “Go away!”

“Shh sh sh.” He curls up behind you, arms around your waist and legs pushing in behind yours. He kisses your shoulder and hugs you, but it only makes you cry harder at how achingly familiar it is. “It’s okay,” he murmurs between kisses. He doesn’t try to get you to stop crying, or ask you what’s wrong. He seems to know exactly why you’re breaking down, and he simply devotes all his efforts to helping you calm down in your own time. “S’okay, s’okay. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he keeps saying, soothing you with a deep rumble in his chest. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart. I’ve got you now. It’s all gonna be okay. Shhh.”

At first, his placating makes you angry, but not enough to stop your crying, and once that tapers off from sobs to quiet, sniffling tears, you can’t seem to dredge up the anger anymore. It isn’t there.

“You feeling a little better?” he asks kindly, gently tucking your hair behind your ear and then hugging you again.

You whine when you feel his lips against your neck. “I’m fine,” you rasp, voice coming out scratchy from all of the crying. You cringe and scrub your face into the pillow in embarrassment. “Just got a little sad.”

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, giving you a supportive squeeze. “That’s okay.”

You hate how he says it, because it’s obvious that he knows why you were crying: Poor, sad little omega, bawling her eyes out over how much she’s missed her Alpha. He nuzzles into your neck, telling you it’s okay and that you’re allowed to cry. As much as you hate him being able to see into you so easily, you’re just grateful that he isn’t rubbing your face in it right now. The way he's holding you and comforting you feels good. You don’t fight to get away from him.

The two of you lie there together for what feels like a long time. Once you’ve stopped crying and are only giving the occasional sniffle for your runny nose, he goes back to running his hand over your side. It’s a gesture of comfort. He’s not groping you, but even still, you blush at the vulnerability of it. You find yourself glad that you’re facing away from him.

The plane shifts noticeably, and James’ hand pauses on your hip. “Pilot said we’re landing soon,” he murmurs. “Should probably go and get pchelka up.”

You sniffle and fight off the urge of resurfacing tears at hearing him reference June. One day of knowing his daughter and already he’s got a nickname for her. You should be annoyed by that, but instead it just makes your heart squeeze with emotion. “Pchelka,” you whisper, trying out the word.

“Yeah.” He hums happily and kisses your shoulder one last time. “Little bee. Come on. Let’s go.”

You don’t think about how it’s far too soon to have arrived at your destination, until you’re back in the main room of the cabin on the way to where Steve disappeared with June, earlier. You pause at the windows, peering out at the landscape. “This isn’t Russia,” you say, confused. The plane is definitely descending, but you’ve only been in the air for a few hours at most. “James?” you ask, as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. Together, you both look out at the looming mountains and turquoise waters below. “Where are we?” you breathe.

James rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs happily. “Home,” he says. “We’re home.”

A.N.: See? Much less Rapey! Plenty more mega-dub con to come though, so don't you angst-lovers worry. Thanks for reading!💖Sarah

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