#bucky has to go catch him in another room in their flat

[avonne-writes]

HS AU Gale will dedicate his Astrophysics PhD thesis to Bucky:

To my husband, my Polaris, the dearest star of my universe.

[whitexwolfxx310]

Total Eclipse of the heart

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: After an encounter where Bucky seems to not know who you are, you start to find out answers. Not one's that you were expecting either.

Warnings: Y/N, cursing, super angst.

Word Count: 4K

A/Ns: Sorry for the long pause between chapters. I had to take some time to deal with my mental health. But I am back! I finished this and will be posting the next chapter ASAP because I wrote that one already as well. If you would like to be added to my taglist, please let me know! I love hearing from y'all so please feel free!

Previous Part

Masterlist

An entire month has gone by but it feels like an eternity. Aside from the one encounter when everyone arrived home from the Soviet Union, the two of you have been kept separate from one another. Tony and Bruce had both agreed that the emotional response from Bucky when he saw you could be triggering, to us both.

It was difficult to try and go through the regular day to day motions when life seemed to have done a complete 180. Everything changed. Sections of The Compound were now 'off limits'. Anytime you asked about Bucky, no one seemed to 'know anything'. It wasn't until Nat 'accidentally' slipped that he had been taken to Wakanda for treatment did you know anything.

'Our' home turned into your home. Bucky's clothes and belongings were taken from the apartment day by day as they worked diligently on treatment. His scent gradually dissipated from the bedsheets with each passing day. Nothing of him was left except one photograph- not even Alpine was left behind.

Which is understandable...But, God I miss them both- more than I let on.

Sitting at the kitchen island, which is normally decorated with cheerful, bright sunflowers and whatever sweet concoction Bucky cooked that morning, felt so bleak and lonely. Each passing day turned one of your favorite places within the home into a very dark one.

*Ding*

The soft tone from your cell is accompanied with a text notification pops up. It's Steve.

"Hey y/n... Can you meet me in the conference room?"

Your thumbs hover over the screen, twitching slightly as each response and scenario collide with one another in your head.

"Um..." You say aloud.

"Sure. See you in a few." Is the response you decided to go with.

You're torn. Part of you wants to run as fast as you possibly can to hear what Steve has to say. The other wants to walk at a snails pace- afraid of what he's going to say. You quickly decide on the median between the two. Not too eager either way.

The walk seemed as though it took forever, like awaiting to cross the finish line of a marathon. Stepping out of the elevator, the glass enclosed conference room came into view. Standing in the corner was Steve, arms instinctively crossed over his chest. He was having what seemed like an easygoing conversation with Tony who stood opposite of him and adjacent to Bruce. Their body language seemed somewhat relaxed, which is good? I think.

Lightly knocking on the glass you catch the attention of all three men. Giving a nervous and awkward wave, Tony motions for you to come in and join them. Hesitantly, you walk in.

"Hey y/n..." Steve immediately greets, bringing his arms down to his sides to seem more relaxed.

"Hey guys..." You answer, meekly. "What's going on?"

It's impossible to force out the casual and polite 'how are you?' 'nice weather we're having today' 'how has work been?' bullshit. I need to know.

"We..." Tony lets out a deep breath as he folds one arm across his chest and the palm of his hand under his chin. "We want to discuss Barnes."

"Okay...?" You reply reluctantly as you look between the three men.

"Why don't you have a seat?" Bruce suggests, looking to Steve and Tony as he politely pulls out one of the wheeled office chairs for you.

Taking a deep breath you oblige, scooting in closer to the conference table and laying your hands flat on the cool surface. It's depressing how any iced cold touch reminds you of Bucky.

The men follow suit, sitting down as well. All four of you collected on one side of the meeting table. The air was stiff, almost as if this were an intervention and each one waited to see who would be the first to speak.

Well it's not going to be me...

"Buck's doing better. A lot better actually!" Steve says optimistically, being the one to break the silence.

"True..." Tony interjects. "But this is unknown territory. While I have all the faith in the world in T'Challa, we've been down this road before-"

"We've made huge strides, Tony." Bruce says, trying to acknowledge both men's opinions but remaining as Switzerland.

"What we're trying to say..." Steve gives you a small nod and half smile, "Is that Buck's back. And...he's asked to see you."

Everyone is looking to you for some sort of answer. But what is the proper way to handle this? There isn't any self help books for 'what to do when your boyfriend's mind resorts back to being an assassin and may not remember you'.

"He... wants to see me?" It comes out as surprised as you feel and yet the only thing you can focus on is the frigidness under your palms.

"Don't worry, it's safe. He's safe. I mean-you'll be safe." Bruce stutters over his words as he tries to sound reassuring.

"Has anyone told you that you are great at giving preparation speeches, Banner?" Tony rolls his eyes and sighs.

"Y/n..." He starts, leaning in more. "We have been working diligently with Barnes. It seems as though pretty much everything is back to normal but..."

Again with the hesitations. Just fucking spit it out already.

"There's holes." Bruce says. Steve and Tony both give him an annoyed look.

I swear he's just in here for comic relief at this point.

"Holes?" You reiterate.

"It's like..." Steve breathes out, long and heavy. "It's like Buck's got all the pieces to the puzzle but can't put them all together just yet. Certain pieces fit and some he's still trying to figure out." He says, hopeful.

"And...he asked to see me?"

After not seeing him for a month since that horrifying interaction, the idea seems so foreign. The men all nod their heads slightly in agreement.

“I can take you to see him now if you would like?” Steve offers. Always the gentleman.

Your eyes instantly drop to look at your oversized grey Iron Maiden t-shirt, black leggings and white slip on's.

“Um...” You look back up at Steve starting to feel self conscious. “Can I clean up and then we care go together?”

“Sure, y/n.” He replies, with his famous warm side smile.

What is the perfect outfit to wear to go see your boyfriend/would have been fiancé for the first time since a once thought dissipated paramilitary terrorist organization that has come back and might be an almost robotic assassin who might not entirely remember your relationship existed?

I mean, is this going to be like meeting him for the first time? Again? Is everything going to go back to the way it was before? Can that even happen?

The thoughts swirled around your mind like a confused cow in a tornado.

Stepping out of the elevator, Steve is waiting with a familiar smile.

“Come on… someone’s waiting for you.” He cordially holds out his arm for you to link onto. Faking the smile in return, you lock arms.

“Thanks, Steve.”

For so many things. For making sure Bucky came home (and not in a body bag), for supporting both of us, for everything in between and including up to this very moment where he is physically keeping you stable.

"I...really appreciate you." There was no way that you could possibly express your gratitude, even if it feels as though your stomach will drop any second.

Steve had led you to the common area; a relaxing spot with a small café. (The one with shitty coffee, according to Bucky). There is a few small tables set up, all of them empty accept for one. Bucky sits alone, his back facing you. Thanks for the dramatic affect. Giving you a small, encouraging squeeze on your shoulder, Steve let's you go.

One step at a time.

It's simple enough and yet you can't move your legs. The nervousness of now having to be on your own almost has completely taken you over. Looking down at your feet, you will them with all of your might to make a move.

One foot. Just one.

Glancing up through hooded eyes, Bucky is still in the same seat- same position. You notice that he is sitting completely upright, tense, nervous. He is as just as fearful of the situation...and you.

Being focused on him, you instinctively take a step. Just that one step turns into every single cell in your body being drawn to him. To run up, him scoop you in his arms and swing you around for the most memorable reunion. You know he'll catch you- and yet you're holding back.

But you decide to play it carefully, respectfully. He hears your faint, delicate footsteps and froze. I've never seen anyone become so suddenly still. Your heart is pounding like a monster trying to break free from it's cage; Pulse whooshing like a relentless wave refusing to ease. Within a single blink of an eye, he was standing- waiting for me.

There was a look of bewilderment on his face, one I have never seen before. Your feet come to a screeching halt, feeling as though they had abruptly encased in cement. Your eyes meet, instantaneously diving into his glacier blue eyes- An unbreakable metal cable connecting your hearts as you begin to move once more. Each step closing the distance you have felt for what felt like ages. That over encompassing feeling of being stuck in a cold, dark, black void.

His mouth opens, taking in a shallow breath as his eyes dart frantically dance between your features.

"You're..." Bucky begins, finally being able to hold his gaze steadily into your eyes. "...real." Relief spilled from the word as he breathed it out. You didn't realize that you had been holding in the air within your lungs.

He doesn't remember? To him it was all...just a dream? I have been begging, pleading with the universe to have him back. I got what I wanted, just not in the way I expected.

Your mouth goes dry- keeping the ability to swallow the large, insufferable lump in your throat.

"Um..." It was hard to keep your voice from cracking, to keep it from mirroring the shattering of your heart. "Last time I checked?" You say, managing a small, fake laugh. The anxiety lodged in your throat travels down your body, now making its appearance in the form of white knuckled fists- Which you quickly move behind your back to hide.

The awkwardness between us felt like a glass wall. You could see him, hear him- but there is a part of him tucked away again.

Bucky's gloved hands froan in the pockets of his black leather jacket he's wearing. A tall tale sign of his insecurity; the gloves a form of comfortability and protection.

His eyes flashed briefly behind your shoulder, a small smirk on his face.

"So..." The grin stayed as his eyes honed in on yours once again. "Would you want to go for a walk?" His torso twisted slightly, using his bent right elbow to point towards the door.

Frozen. Your lips part and yet nothing comes out. He's waiting for some kind of reply but still, nothing. Bucky leans in closer, the smokiness of his campfire smell completely intoxicating.

"Somewhere private?" This time he stares at something over your shoulder. Curiosity gets the better of you- looking over your shoulder, it reveals Sam and Steve huddled in a corner. They abruptly bump into one another, failing to act casual.

Turning back to meet each others gaze once again, a small laugh escapes in unison at the silliness of your eavesdropping friends.

That smile, the laugh. God, that laugh. The saying 'music to my ears' would do it such an injustice.

Nodding in agreement, you bite on the edge of your tongue. Those overwhelming, missing words are now dying to be shouted out.

"Lead the way." He says, gently.

The Compound was surrounded by lively Summer scenery. It had plush, full green trees. The birds chirping their love songs to one another- the smell of dense humidity delicately mixed with citrus and bloomed flowers.

Small white dwarf clovers swish against your feet as you walk through the grass. You'd swear you were alone if you didn't keep sneaking glances at Bucky to make sure it wasn't a dream. His stride was feline- deliberately light and practically soundless.

Stopping on a small hilltop overlooking a field of lavender, you can't bring yourself to look at him. Your body pulses with electricity over the physical closeness of his body to yours. There is only the sound of the whisp of the wind as you stare out into the abyss of purple.

The silence was aching to your soul. Thoughts are whirling around your brain, trying to find the perfect words to convey just how much he means to you. That love, our love, could defy any odds thrown our way.

You know the scene in the romance movies when one person breaks down and emotionally confesses all of their hopes and dreams? It's me, hi.

You don't have to propose, you already know what my answer would be. Let's buy a house and make it a home, just the two of us. Or not. I want Bucky babies- as many as you want. I want to wake up to their laughter ringing through the house- knowing because you wake up so early that you'll be the first thing that they see. Send you to the gas station at 2am for an ice cream and loaded cheese fries craving. The endless laughs I know we'll share as a family. I want to argue about not getting everything on the shopping list. There isn't anything in this universe or the next that could tear us-

"I don't know why this is so difficult." He starts in a soft tone.

Oh no.

"I know you. I know that I know you." He's nervous, rambling. "I feel it in my bones when I look at you. Just being in your presence is soothing to me. You're extremely important to me, y/n." He pauses.

I don't like pauses.

"But..." Bucky exhales a deep breath, as if trying to calm himself. He turns to you and you mirror the movement, now facing each other. You hold the air in your lungs, hanging onto every word. "The best way that I can explain it is..." His hands move in a small circular motion as he tries to find his own words. "It's like reading a book. You can see it in your mind, but it's not physical, realistic."

A wave of cold washed over your body from head to toe, as if someone dumped a bucket of ice water over your head. Your eyes burn from the refusal to blink and let the tears fall. It still must have conveyed on your face, because Bucky's eyes search within yours- a sincere expression replacing his concern.

"Are..." Your voice cracks. Clearing your throat, you fight to get the words out. "Are you...saying that we're" You hesitate, almost choking on the word that feels like bile rising in your esophagus "...over?"

"God, no!" You can feel your eyes roll back slightly at the comfort of those words. Bucky gently takes your hand and places it over his chest; both of his hands enclosing them over his. It's hard not to stare when you can feel the accelerated beating of his heart under the scarring where skin meets metal.

"I'm just asking for us to take it slow. As long as that's okay with you?" His tone is soft but hopeful as he paired it with puppy dog eyes.

"Of course." You lie- your teeth clasped painfully down on the edges of your tongue to keep from saying anything else. His sigh of alleviation along with the instant release of tension in his shoulders shows you made the right decision.

"Thank you, y/n." Bucky whispers as he leans in, leaving behind the faintest kiss on your cheek. If your eyes weren't open to see the physical contact, you would swear it was from the tame breeze.

There was a time not so long ago that we would have taken advantage of being alone on this hill. Laying down in the plush grass surrounded by flowers, the petals getting stuck to the sweat on our bodies. Bucky moaning your name into the crook of your neck as you intertwined and moved as one. Your entire body so sensitive to his delicate, but firm touch, to the point it was almost painful- and yet you couldn't help but beg for more.

Yet, here we are now- resorting back to elementary school hand holding. Selfishly, you wanted more, but didn't have the heart to ask for more. He just seemed... so happy with the idea.

"Well then, I guess it would be okay to resume our sessions for the time being." You say jokingly walking into your office with him closely behind. Bucky lets out a small, genuine laugh as he takes a sits on the sofa across from your desk.

"Anything noteworthy happen while I was gone?"

"Well," You start, grinning as you walk to lean back on the edge of the desk to face him. "There have been quite a bit of complaints about the coffee. I guess you aren't the only one who hates The Compounds brand of choice. I think Rocket misses you- or, at the very least, messing with you. And if I'm being honest..." You place a hand on your belly, rubbing it slightly. "I've lost a few pounds without my personal chef/baker around."

A flicker of wholesome playfulness flashes in those crystal eyes; contagious enough to for it to reach his smile. The fluttering of butterfly wings caress against the lining inside your stomach. Nothing could keep from that infectious ray of light from tugging at your very soul.

"I promise to rectify that as soon as possible, Sunshine." The emphasis of your nickname blanketed around your bones like warm honey. The giddiness made you look away- but only for a moment. You're transfixed on him; Afraid that if he wasn't in your line of sight, he would disappear.

"I know that you're too polite to ask..." Bucky starts, his expression changing. "But I want to tell you about what happened overseas."

Oh shit.

Your fingers tighten around the edge of your desk in preparation. Giving him a small, understanding nod- he continues.

"Russia was... eventful to say the least." He says, almost baffled. "To make a long story short: We got there, followed a few leads that wound up being dead ends and were getting ready to head back home." Bucky is slumped back in his seat on the couch, eyes focused on his pointer finger lazily tapping against his knee; completely zoned out at the recollection.

You now painfully sit in silence, waiting for him to tell you what happened in his own words and in his own time. Biting your tongue to not blurt out all of your questions, needing answers.

"The entire time that we thought this mission was a bust- we were being watched. Studied."

"Studied?" You repeat. "By who?"

"If a head is cut off, two more shall take it's place." He says cryptically and barely audible as he looks up from the floor.

"What?" You ask, becoming more confused. The more in depth Bucky goes, the more distant he seems to get.

"Hydra will never be gone." His tone sounds like an admission to defeat. "There are still people out there who believe in 'their cause'." This came out more as disgust. "They've...replaced me. Created a new 'me'." He's disappointed; thinking that it had just been him all along to discover that there is more.

"Steve and I got separated from the rest of the team. We had each others backs, just as we always have. But..." He sighs, hesitating before he speaks again. "As we tried to make our way out, we found ourselves in some kind of detaining room? It felt familiar." Bucky stares straight forward, looking through some unseen void. "I-... I pushed Steve back through where entered before it closed but someone else was in there with me. I don't remember if I passed out or what. But when I woke up, I had a difficult time recalling anything, anyone. As if I had amnesia."

His whole body is tense as he recalls the memory. It must be difficult for him, living his whole life trying to distinguish what is real and what's not.

"Bucky..." You take a few steps closer; hand impulsively reaching out, placing it on top of his gloved hand as you knelt on the floor in front of him.

He didn't flinch- Not in the way he used to when you first met. There was familiar hint of pain and nervousness behind his eyes.

"And all I could see, was you. Flashes of you smiling, laughing..."

Bucky leans forward, somewhat onto his knees, turning your hand over and gently holding onto it as he intensely looks in your eyes.

"But I... couldn't remember. I thought that maybe it had all been a dream. But when I saw you in person at the medical bay, I knew that it hadn’t been just a fantasy, it was actual memories. I am just so....fucked up." He says in revulsion.

He'll never forgive himself.

"We're all a little fucked up." You admit.

There is something to be said for losing yourself. Sometimes being lost is the only way to be found. You may find a strength you never knew that you had, or see others painted in a different light; will they disappear or help you find your way out of the dark? And if we get out of that darkness, does a piece come back with us?

Bucky's face suddenly hardened, solely focused on something. A switch flipped- the light had gotten ripped away from his eyes. He was staring so intensely that it was uncomfortable. Feeling self conscious, you look down- trying to seek what had exclusively had his attention. In shifting slightly, you see that he isn't concentrating on you; but something behind you.

With unintentional slowness you start to turn around, goosebumps taking over the entire top layer of your skin. Your mind is racing trying to fathom what could be in your office to have him triggered like this. But nothing was there. No person, no being, nothing out place.

Your lungs let out every last bit of air that they held onto in relief. And yet, nothing changed. There was a mysterious uneasiness gripping onto the room.

"Bucky...?" You hesitantly ask; still looking between him and whatever still had him in an almost trance.

Carefully, he moved you out of the way and in four strides, Bucky’s at the bookcase behind your desk.

Standing up, you take a step forward. “Bucky…?” You ask again.

Grabbing a framed picture that was standing in the bookshelf, he starts to look over the picture- taking in every small detail. His head whips around to look back at you, his eyes frantic as his eyes bounce between the picture and you.

“What?!” You can’t hide the urgency of needing to know any longer.

“It’s him.” Barely audible.

Taking a few steps closer, you see that Bucky is holding the picture of you with your brother, Luke. You let an exhale of relief out. But he’s still looking over the picture obviously feeling uneasy.

“You’ve seen this picture a hundred times… what’s wrong?”

“It’s him” He repeats “My replacement. The newest super soldier… is Luke.” His voice is low, exacerbated. You roll your eyes.

"C'mon, Bucky. You know that my brother has been dead for two years. That would be impossible!" I get that he's been through a lot lately, but this? Bringing my dead family member into it?

"What I'm saying is..." His eyes are intensely locked on yours, "He isn't dead. Never was. And your brother..." Bucky doesn't breathe as his expression tries convey the seriousness of his next words, "He's alive. And...he's the new face of Hydra."

Next Part

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[queen-of-the-avengers]

CATFA: Part Ten

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: canon violence, language, and angst, major character death

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Steve leads you and Bucky to one of the ladders on the side of the train. You enter through one of the doors, and as soon as the door is closed, the outside wind gets cut off. It's eerily quiet inside the train. There are double doors on either ends of the train cars thast lead all the way to the front of the train.

Steve walks through those double doors fiollowed by you, but before Bucky can get through, both door close and lock automatically.

"Bucky!" you yell and bang on the door. Someone comes into the room behind Bucky holding a very big gun, and you point to him to alert your boyfriend. "Look out!"

You want to help him but you have bigger issues at hand. There is one guy shooting at Bucky while another is inside the same train car as you and Steve. This guy, however, has a weapon made by the Space Stone so it's much more powerful.

He begins firing at you and Steve, forcing you two to duck for cover. If only you can get to the door, you can use your aerokinesis to try and force the door open or down, or maybe you can use your pyrokinesis to burn the mechanisms.

"Cover me. I am going to try to get that door open," you say to Steve. 

He nods in agreements and prepares top shoot like his life depends on it. He uses his shield to protect the both of you while you run over to the door. You place both hands flat against the smooth metal and let your fire powers heat it up until it becomes too weak to hold its own. Some of the metal melts to the ground until the hole is big enough for you to pass through.

The second door is the only thing in the way between you and your boyfriend. He's ducked behind some containers as his perpetrator shoots at him. He looks up and sees you through the window, and you motion for him to move out of the way. Once he does, you blast the door with your air powers, causing it to break in two. Half of it stays on the sliding mechanism while the other half is blown into the room.

The attacker stands up straight knowing you're a threat to him. Before he has a chance to react, you lift him up with your air powers and slam him against the wall so hard that his spine cracks in two.

"Are you okay?" you ask and help Bucky to his feet.

"Yeah, I'm good. I had him on the ropes."

"I know you did." The shooter that Steve thought he subdued comes back with a bigger vengeance. He aims his gun at you three, and Steve tries to get you out of the line of fire. "Get down!"

The man shoots at Steve's shield, sending all three of you back to the end of the car. The blast hits the side of the car, blowing a huge hole through the side of the train car. The shield lands next to Bucky who grabs it to protect himself. He shoot at the man, but the man sends another powerful blast at your boyfriend.

Bucky gets blown back, drops the shield on the ground, and gets thrown through the big ass hole. He grabs one of the bars that prevents him from falling to his death.

"Bucky!!" you scream. "Get that son of a bitch! I'll get Bucky!"

Bucky's hands are slipping off the metal bar he's clinging so hard to because he can't hold his own weight anymore. He's going to die in this moment, he knows. One of his hands slip off right before the other ones does. You jump out of the moving car and fly down to him. He only falls a few feet when you catch him. He looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

"Did you really think I'd let you fall?" you chuckle.

You start to fly him up toward the speeding train but you're never able to get to it. Someone from either down below or in the mountains shoots at you with the same weapons as the mysterious man inside the train. You dodge one of them only to be hit with another one. You're forced to let go of Bucky's hand as you go crashing into the side of the mountain.

Your crash site makes a huge hole in the side of the mountain, and you weakly crawl to the edge to see where Bucky went.

"Bucky!!" you cry out.

You jump out of the hole and go flying down to the base of the mountain, but before you can get too far, more shots are fired at you. Whoever is shooting at you clearly doesn't want you to go down there. Bucky is most likely dead, and if you continue down there, then you will be too. 

Steve can't afford to loose two people, so you make the heartbreaking choice to leave Bucky and fly back to the train. Steve is there with Arnim Zola in handcuffs. Steve knows what happened to his best friend as soon as you came back without him.

"He's gone," you sob and fall to your knees.

Arnim Zola ws brought back to London where he was arrested for his crimes, but you and Steve had to take time for yourselves to grieve. The bar you and Bucky danced to before watching the sunset is destroyed by small bombs, but you and Steve find a home in it to drink in silence.

Well, if silence means you crying for Bucky.

"I had him, Steve. I told him I wasn't going to let him fall. Someone starting shooting at us, and I tried to get away but one got me. I tried to go after him, but they started shooting at me again. It's all my fault," you sob.

"It's both our faults," Steve sighs and takes another drink from the bottle. 

"I was gonna marry him," you whisper. "I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him."

Steve doesn't know what to say to that, so he doesn't. Footsteps can be heard from behind, but you know who it is. She always seems to appear whenever Steve is in distress. 

"Dr. Erskine said that the serum, wouldn't just affect my muscles, it would affect my cells. I'd create a protective system of regeneration and healing, which means I can't get drunk. Did you know that?"

"Your metabolism burns four times faster than the average person. He thought it could be one of the side effects," Peggy says and takes a seat at the table. "It wasn't your fault."

"Tell me, Agent Carter," your voice cracks with anger, "how this isn't my fault. I can fly. I caught him. I promised him that he would be safe. I let go."

"You both did everything you could. Did you believe in your friend? Did you respect him?" she asks, and you and Steve give her a wordless answer. "Then stop blaming yourself. Allow Barnes the dignity of his choice. He damn well must have thought you two were worth it."

"We're going after Schmidt. I'm not gonna stop till all of Hydra is dead or captured."

"You won't be alone."

She's right, you won't. Bucky is the only person who didn't survive that mission. You still have the entire team you and Steve put together. Colonel Phillips wants all of Hydra dead, and if he's going to do that, then he needs to recruit the team you gathered. All of them, including Peggy, meet in the London headquarters to discuss the next steps.

"Johann Schmidt belongs in a big house," Colonel Phillips says. "He thinks he's a God. He's willing to blow up half the world to prove it, starting with the USA."

"Schmidt's working with powers beyond our capabilities. If he gets across the Atlantic, he will wipe out the entire eastern seaboard in an hour," Howard informs the group. "It's a good thing we have someone who has powers beyond our capabilities."

All eyes turn to you, but you keep your head down.

"How much time we got?" you ask.

"According to my new best friend, under twenty-four hours."

"Where is he now?"

"Hydra's last base is here," he says as he points to a photo he's holding of the base, "in the Alps. Five hundred feet below the surface."

"So, what are we supposed to do? I mean, it's not like we can just knock on the front door," one of your teammates scoffs.

"Why not?" All eyes are on Steve as he speaks. "That's exactly what we're gonna do."

If you're going to be charging into enemy territory, then you need to be prepared for anything. Steve can't fly so he's using his trusty motorcycle to get him through the front gate. Everyone else is on stand by while you two bypass their security. You're on the back of Steve's motorcycle as he drives throught he forrest closer to the main entrance. Other motorcycles can be heard in the distance as Hydra soldiers try and catch up.

"Keep driving! I'll keep them off our backs!" you shout to Steve.

You grip his shoulders to help you stand on the back seat. The air around you kicks up dirt, twigs, and other debris that you keep away from you using your areokinesis. There are about eight soldiers all on mototcycles and more weapons made form the Tesseract.

You're not going to give them a chance to hit you.

Fire forms in the palms of your hands, and you use those fireballs to destory each and every one of those bikes. As soon as your fire touches their tires, they explode into pieces. Some of the drivers get impaled by said pieces, but others are wounded to the point of death if medical care isn't administrated right away.

The entrance to the base comes into view, and a huge tank with the same kind of weapons start firing at Steve. He takes his shield and places it at the front of his bike so that the beams will reflect off it instead of through him. Steve presses a red button near his handlebar that triggers bombs nestled inside the bike. The bombs are small but pack a heavy punch when used.

The broken tank is in the way of getting through the front gate, so Steve uses a fallen tree to his advantage. He rides along the thick base until he's fully inside. Both you and he jump off the bike as it continues to drive right at the cement entrance that will lead you inside the actual base. It crashes into the cement wall, but the bombs still elft inside are enough to create a large hole for you to enter through.

Soldiers come all around you, but you're going to kill as many of them as you can. Steve doesn't have your powers to rely on but he does a good job in disabling a lot of soldiers with just his shield. To men with flamethrowers trap you and Steve in a diamond of fire, and that just makes you laugh.

"Gentlemen, I can do that, too."

Fire shoots out of your arms mimicking that of the flamethrowers.

"Stand down," Steve says to you.

Right. If you're going to get inside the base where Schmidt is, then you have to allow yourself to get caught. Once Hydra perceives you and Steve are no longer a threat, they surround you by the dozens. Two guards are on both sides of you and Steve, and they take you deeper into the base where Schmidt is. You don't have handcuffs on you, but they made it clear they will hurt you if you try anything.

x

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[from-the-clouds]

Kiss Me More - Zemo/Reader

Masterlist | Part Two 

Summary: Reader works with Sam & Bucky and has a moment alone with Zemo upon their arrival in Riga. Loosely inspired by this song. 

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: Kissing, heavy petting, minor TFATWS spoilers.

A/N: As if you couldn’t tell already when it comes to what characters I love to write for, I love a bad boy. This was meant to be a short, sweet fic and then I had to get all existential and invent an entire storyline around these two. I think there’s definitely room here for a multiple parts, if you’re interested. Let me know what you think!

----

“I’m going for a walk.”

Y/N didn’t argue with Bucky as he walked away stiffly. With anyone else, she would’ve been suspicious, but she knew Bucky well enough to know it was in her best interest to ignore any of his cryptic behavior. At the end of the day, she knew she could trust him. 

Zemo’s flat was spacious and beautiful, and she wasn’t surprised by the ostentatious but minimalist decorating. Zemo excused himself into the bathroom to shower and freshen up. Sam eyed him wearily, but didn’t seem too concerned. Y/N sat down on a couch she guessed cost thrice as much as she paid monthly in rent.

“I’m going to grab some grub, want anything?” Sam asked after only a few moments of pacing around the apartment, seemingly checking to see if they were being set up. 

Y/N shook her head no, the constant traveling over the past few days hadn’t been great for her appetite. 

“Will you keep an eye on him?” Sam said, flicking his eyes in the direction of the bathroom, where she heard the patter of the shower running steadily.

“Of course,” she answered. Zemo had a reputation, she’d seen it herself. But she didn’t know him to the same extent that Bucky and Sam did. So far, he’d only been polite to her so she wasn’t exactly scared or intimidated about any sort of confrontation.

Plus, she was only here as a favor to her friends. She was hardly talented or important enough to be an Avenger. Bucky and Sam knew they could call her if they were in a pinch. And right now, they were definitely in a pinch. 

Picking up a book of photography from the coffee table in front of her, she flipped through it absentmindedly, admiring the photos of ornate architecture and crowded city streets before the click of a doorknob caught her attention. Zemo emerged from the bathroom with damp hair in a bathrobe, slinging a towel over his shoulder and immediately making his way towards the kitchen.

Y/N heard the clink of glasses and ice, and she returned her attention to the book. All the traveling was catching up to her, as her eyelids began to feel heavy, and the quiet in the room allowed her body to finally settle.

“Have a drink with me,” she was startled when she realized Zemo was standing over her, a cocktail extended in her direction. Not a question, a command. 

“I’m alright, thank you,” she said flatly. 

“I have to celebrate.”

Sighing, and abandoning the book altogether she closed it, sitting it on the table and crossing her arms, looking up at him.

“Come on, It’s one drink,” he winked, and pressed the cocktail into her hands. Up close, she felt like she was seeing him for the first time, rather than just another means to an end for one of Bucky’s missions. Zemo was good-looking, there was no doubt there. Tall, Dark hair, handsome enough to turn heads, but not so chiseled to be unapproachable. She guessed he was maybe ten years her senior, and while she thought being locked up for so long might’ve taken a toll on anyone, there was no trace of it in his features.

Taking it reluctantly, but still not entirely sold, she raised an eyebrow as he slowly sat down next to her. “All right, what’s the occasion?” she asked.

He lifted his drink, and she sighed, shifting her weight so she was facing him, meeting his eyes and lifting her cocktail so it was level with his. “To being a free man.”

They clinked glasses and she took a sip, the bite of the liquor concealed by a sweet and smooth aftertaste. Whatever he’d made her, it was good. 

“Temporarily,” she added after a moment, watching him take another sip of his drink.

“What?” he asked, turning to face her. 

“You’re only a free man temporarily,” she said. 

“Touche,” he answered, one arm stretching over the back of the couch, his hand nearly touching her shoulder. He gave her a devilish grin. 

A surprising warmth fluttered in her stomach, and she turned away from him to sip her cocktail. She wasn’t ignorant. After all, she was the only woman in the group, she hadn’t missed his lingering glances and once-overs while they were partying in Madripoor. It would’ve been flattering, but she was probably the first woman he’d seen in years. 

They sat in silence for a moment as Zemo leaned back to survey the room. She supposed she hadn’t done a good enough job of appreciating it the first time around, high ceilings, natural light, but just enough privacy to feel cozy and inviting. Another steely sip of liquor passed her lips. She hadn’t had a drink in god only knew how long. 

“Tell me, doesn’t this work get exhausting?” his smooth, accented voice cut through the quiet. “Traveling all the time, getting beat up, the lack of sleep, or a routine, following orders…”

She shrugged, pondering a moment. “It’s not so bad. Plus, it’s not like I know anything else.” When she glanced over at him, his eyes were fixated intently on her, but he was unreadable. “I know you think I’m a monster, but I’m just doing what’s right.”

“What you think is right,” he corrected, and before she could bite back, finished his thought. “My people, my family. All gone because of what someone with too much power thought was right.” A sadness flickered across his visage, but disappeared as soon as she could register it. 

“I’m sorry,” she rasped, earnest. 

“And I don’t think you’re a monster,” Zemo said, shifting his weight so he was facing her dead on, tilting his head to the side and studying her. Something about his gaze felt sharp, like he could see through her. “You aren’t entirely sold on all this, I can see it in your eyes.”

His words cut deep, deeper than she was willing to admit to anyone, even herself. But what was normal? And could she ever be? “What makes you think that?”

“How often do you get to be selfish?” he asked. His robe gaped open a little at the top, revealing a dainty silver chain necklace clasped around his neck with a small charm dangling from it, pale skin and a smattering of chest hair. “When was the last time you got to sit down, relax, enjoy yourself?”

Glancing down at the drink in her hand, feeling slightly vulnerable, she felt a smiling playing at the edges of her lips. “I could ask you the same question.”

“I’m enjoying myself right now,” he said, and she raised her eyebrows. “What, can you blame me? Good whiskey, a beautiful woman by my side.”

Her jaw dropped slightly, holding back a smile. Warmth crept like vines up her neck, pooling in her cheeks. “You should be careful,” she warned. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me.”

He leaned closer and she could smell the scent of his aftershave, smoke and musk, heat from the shower still radiating off his body. Maybe the whiskey was getting to her. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly as he lifted the drink to meet his lips, pitching his head back to finish off the liquor before discarding the empty glass on the table in front of them. 

“Would it be so bad if I was?”

Outside, the sun passed behind a cloud, and the room dimmed ever so slightly, casting shadows that caught along Zemo’s cheekbones, his jawline. The waning light made her all the more aware of how the energy in the room had shifted. 

“It’d be unprofessional,” she said, voice low, and he seemed much closer than he’d been before. But he wasn’t the only one closing the gap, she realized she was definitely, inadvertently, meeting him halfway. 

“Oh well,” he said, softly. “We wouldn’t want that, would we?” Her eyes adjusted to the light, and up close, he was mesmerizing, deep brown eyes filled with longing. His gaze made her stomach turn, and she knew she should be disgusted but she just couldn’t bring herself to feel anything other than intrigue.

Shaking her head no, she couldn’t find the words to speak. Maybe because she wouldn’t believe any last attempts at protest. Better to save her breath.

The Baron’s hand, cool from the icy glass, rose to cup her cheek, so gentle and tender, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. Frozen, all she could do was breathe slowly as her heart raced. “Zemo-” she began weakly.

“Helmut,” he corrected. “Call me Helmut.”

Y/N gave no answer, unable to remember what she had been protesting when he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. 

Goosebumps rose along her arms, ears ringing, as he kissed her. The arm he’d been resting on the couch behind her pulled her closer, and her own free hand rose to his neck, letting him take control. 

Her lips parted and his tongue traced her bottom lip, deepening the kiss. He groaned into her mouth, the vibration raising every hair on her body. Oh, she knew it was bad, but she hadn’t felt so desired, so wanted in years. Wandering hands lazily slid down his neck, to his shoulders where her fingers pushed underneath the loose neckline of his robe, palms exploring the broad expanse of his chest. 

Her skin tingled, every exposed surface aching to be touched, explored by him, and maybe he could tell as his hand left her jaw to coast down her torso, all the way to hook behind her knee and pull her leg across his lap, an invitation to straddle him that didn’t go unnoticed, but she’d need time to decide whether or not she was willing to go that far. 

As for exploring, he wasted no time bringing his hand back up her stomach, to hover lightly over the curve of her breast, squeezing gently as to gauge her reaction, a request to continue, and her breath caught in her mouth, her body instinctively pressing against him. His thumb found the peak of her nipple even through the padding of her bra and thin t-shirt. 

Her lips parted from his to let out a breathless moan, and his mouth trailed down her neck as her fingers tangled in his hair. His tongue and teeth passed over a particularly sensitive spot, which he discovered when she let out a strangled gasp, and doubled down, sucking and grazing over and over until she finally couldn’t bare it any longer and she pulled away. 

Zemo’s face hovered inches from hers, and she wanted to give him some sort of excuse. That this was wrong, they shouldn’t be doing this, but she took in his equally unfastidious appearance and decided not to waste her words on something so cliche. He looked utterly breathtaking.

He didn’t move away, just smiled gently. “How does it feel...to do the bad thing?” he teased.

Y/N couldn’t help the giggle that passed her lips, feeling lightheaded and giddy. “Not so bad at all,” She should’ve been enraged, she should’ve wretched herself out of his arms, but she was engulfed in his scent and his comforting presence, unwilling to leave. It wasn’t so terrible to be selfish. It was her who closed the gap between them again.

He smiled against her lips, hand returning to hook behind her knee once more, and this time she obliged, shifting her weight so she could straddle his lap and his hands met both sides of her hips as she cupped his face, fingers in his hair on his shoulders, kissing him with unbridled passion. 

She could feel his excitement through the fabric of the robe, and knew she was getting carried away, but every nerve in her body smarted for contact. He was impossibly warm and she couldn’t get enough of it. Rolling her hips forward to tease him, he let out a groan and arched upward. “Oh, liebling, I wish we had more time.”

As if on cue, she heard the scratching of the key in the front doorway, and was immediately jolted from her reverie. Before she knew it she was off the couch and halfway across the room, just as Bucky entered, looking perturbed as always. 

“Hey,” she said, turning her back to him and pretending to look out the window, voice unsteady. She heard Helmut clear his throat and shift his weight on the couch. 

Busying herself in the kitchen, she let the curtain of her hair fall over the side of her face, hiding her clearly flustered appearance, her face was still impossibly warm, her skin sensitive, lips swollen. “How was your walk?” 

“Fine,” Bucky said, and she heard him walking towards her as she absentmindedly pretended to wipe down the countertops. When he brushed past her to use the sink she jumped, finally looking him in the eyes. Bucky frowned. “Are you all right?” he asked. 

Staring back at him for a moment she nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine, why?”

“You just seem a little jumpy.”

“There was a spider,” the lie came out so easily, so quickly, that she was actually ashamed of it. “It was big and I….I don’t know where it went.”

Bucky snorted, and whether he believed her or not, didn’t respond. “Where’s Sam?” he asked. 

“Out getting dinner,” she said, feeling her heart rate begin to turn back to normal. Bucky washed his hands and shook the excess water off in the basin.

“If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to lie down,” she said after a moment. “The jetlag is catching up to me.”

She turned around and left Bucky in the kitchen, returning to the lounge area where Zemo turned to look over his shoulder. “Allow me to show you to the guest bedroom,” he said, an ornery sparkle in his eyes. 

“Fine,” she said flatly, wondering what exactly he was planning and just intrigued enough to resist an argument.

The bedroom was just out of Bucky’s earshot, down a short hallway. As she stepped over the threshold to the awaiting large, inviting bed, a hand on her waist halted her in her tracks. 

“I’m not finished with you,” she could feel his breath on the back of her neck, the scent of his cologne overwhelming her senses once more. It took a great deal of control to pull herself away from him, as she turned around and grabbed the doorknob, dragging it towards her. “We’ll see about that,” she said quietly, shutting the door in his face and letting out an exhausted breath. She’d awakened a monster, and now she had no idea what to do about it.

---

PART II out now!

If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, please let me know!

[vanderlustwords]

What if Steve leaves and she finds out she’s pregnant? I really love your alternate ending where he leaves for Peggy and wondering if you could write more about it. Doesn’t have to be him leaving a child behind that was just a question that popped into my head

Pairing: (past) Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Please do not repost/translate anywhere. Reblogs/Comments are much welcomed ♥

Continuation of: This Dress is Karma || Alternate Ending

Warnings: unbeta'd. Angst ending for Steeb.

Note: I don't know how you roped me into writing a 2.3k continuation but here I am LOL

Count: ~2.3k

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

You shut the door with a soft click, waiting until you hear the quiet footsteps fade away. The lump in your throat gets harder to swallow as you turn around, leaning back against the door and let out a shaky sigh.

You can't help but think those were some brave words you said to Steve. You desperately wanted them to be true. You did want to be so happy that it would physically pain Steve if he were to ever witness it.

You wanted it to be true that you were never going to see him again because he had hurt you so much, and he needed to stay away from you.

But when you lift your trembling hand to your stomach, you wonder if everything you said had been nothing more than a brave front.

"You alright?"

You immediately look up and see Bucky stepping out of the guest room, fully dressed with towel-dried hair.

You swallow and force a smile as you drop your hand.

"Yeah, you ready to head out?" You ask him as you stand up straight.

Bucky nods with a grumble before he grabs a strand of his hair. "I need a haircut first, though. Do you think we could find a barber first?"

"Sure," you say, turning around and opening the door with Bucky following you behind.

"You sure everything is okay?" Bucky asks you again.

The way your throat feels raw, the hysterical words that want to escape your mouth make you feel dizzy. You want to put your hand against your stomach again as if to see if you could suddenly feel a bump.

But you refrain because Bucky would get suspicious. Well, he'd probably think you had a stomachache first, but if you didn't stop acting strange, he would pry.

"Everything's fine," you mumble.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

As the weeks pass, more and more things begin to slip from you.

There is a layer of never-ending panic that sits right beneath your skin, crawling and setting your nerves on fire.

When you began to get morning sickness and threw up into the toilet, you began to shake.

The reality of your situation began to hit you.

You were pregnant.

With Steve's child.

Steve, who had abandoned you and was grey and old and probably would pass away soon.

The notion of it all had you throwing up in the toilet again.

You were alone, and you were scared.

What were you going to do? You couldn't rely on Steve anymore.

You looked down at your relatively flat stomach still, placing your hand against it.

There was a life growing inside you. What were you going to do?

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

It was harder to hide when Bucky came over almost every other day, even though he didn't live with you. He had stayed for a week after the confrontation with Steve but quickly found his own place.

Initially, that had made you feel more alone, like everyone couldn't wait to escape from you. But it had worked out when you needed alone time.

Bucky was currently in your kitchen, cooking up steaks for lunch for the two of you.

The smell of it made you deathly pale.

"What's going on with you?" Bucky asked with a frown as he set the steaks aside to rest.

You had to swallow hard before you could answer. "Nothing," you said weakly. "I'm—I'm sorry. I know you came all the way here to cook but I'm not really hungry."

"You've been saying that for days now, doll," Bucky pursed his lip. "I feel like I haven't seen you eat a proper meal lately. What's going on? I know things have been...hard. Especially since you last saw Steve, but this isn't okay. I need you to eat something in front of me that isn't pretzels, bananas, or bread."

The idea of sliding a piece of steak basted in butter had your stomach knot itself painfully.

You shook your head, but when Bucky insisted, slicing the steak and you watched the juices run, you couldn't hold it in anymore.

You took off to the bathroom in haste.

"Hey—" Bucky called out and took off after you, but you were quick to shut the door before you fell to your knees over the toilet and hurled.

"What's wrong?" Bucky yelled through the door, trying to jiggle it open but found you had locked it. "Open the door, doll. I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," you said shakily as you grabbed some toilet paper and wiped your mouth, eyes hot with tears. "I just—I just haven't been feeling well."

The silence on the other side of the door only lingered for a moment before Bucky used his metal arm to turn the doorknob so hard, it broke open.

He found you sitting on the floor, over the toilets, eyes rimmed red and your face pale.

Bucky carefully walks in and kneels slowly before you.

He thinks back the couple of weeks and how you've been going to the bathroom a lot more, and how you don't like going to restaurants to eat. You've been eating at home and the strangest things and wearing more flowy shirts.

He looks at your face, and the way you're trying to hold back your tears makes Bucky feel dread.

"Doll..." he calls you softly. "Are you—Are you pregnant?"

You let out a choked sob in response, face dropping as you close your eyes.

Bucky's quick to hold you in his arms as he strokes your back, his heart dropping.

There was only one person who could've gotten you pregnant.

There had been some dumb shit Steve's done the entire time Bucky's known him. Always getting into scraps he couldn't finish, always prideful when Bucky wanted to help him.

But it had been the first time Bucky's ever been so fucking pissed at Steve. It was the first time Bucky couldn't defend or make an excuse for his friend.

"Bucky, what am I going to do?" You trembled in his arms. "I can't—Steve isn't—I want to keep it but I'm alone."

Bucky swallowed so hard it was painful.

There was no fucking way he was ready to be a dad or step up in any kind of way—that is, if you even let him.

Fuck, you two didn't even have feelings for each other or anything. There was something, maybe, Bucky thought for the future. But now?

"You're not alone," Bucky reassured, keeping his voice still for your sake. "I'm here. I'm here all the way and I'm not gonna leave you, doll. Ever."

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

You manage to keep the fact that you're pregnant under the wraps easily. It helps that since saving the world, no one really meets up anymore. A part of you worries because you can't find Wanda anywhere, but you know she can find you if she wanted to.

Sam might be the only other person who knows, and Bucky was begrudging when accepting his help.

Months pass, and you're surprised how dedicated Bucky is. You're pretty sure you're on the verge of a mental breakdown constantly. A part of you worries Steve will show up, but Bucky reassures you that there's nothing Steve could do even if he did show up.

"Fuck..." you swore as Bucky was in the middle of figuring out how to build the crib the two of you got from Ikea. He looks up at you alarmingly. "I think my water just broke."

"Oh, shit, okay, okay!" Bucky jumps up right away and starts running around to grab the prepared bag as he helps you out into the car. "Don't panic!"

"Bucky, I'm literally about to push a baby out of my body. I'm going to fucking panic if I want to," you snap, and Bucky bites his lip to refrain from speaking as he zips through traffic.

"Oh, god," you say under your breath. You were having a baby. You were actually going to have a baby.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

"Bucky, you can't just carry her everywhere," you grumbled as you pushed the stroller through the park. "You're spoiling her."

"Yes, I can. She wants me to carry her and whatever my princess wants, she gets." Bucky declared indignantly at you while sticking his tongue out.

You sighed with a smile.

You couldn't believe a year has passed. Despite the time passing, you never really felt fully prepared as a mother. You were scared you were fucking it up all the time if you're honest.

Bucky holds your hand, and you give him a shy smile. That was new too. Slow and steady, as Bucky has always been, and you think you were falling for him because of that.

When you look up, your heart stops.

"Oh," Steve blinked.

Another year has passed, but you find Steve doesn't look too different. A little more tired perhaps, but still...Steve.

You feel panic creep up in your chest that threatens to become a panic attack before Bucky squeezes your hand.

"Breathe, doll," he whispers encouragingly to you, but it's loud enough for Steve to catch.

You do as he says, taking a few calming breaths. You want to keep walking, but it seems Steve can't stop staring at the child in Bucky's arms.

"Why don't you take Hazel to the pond? She really likes looking at the ducks," you tell Bucky, and he nods, warily looking at you and Steve. He sends Steve a curt nod before he takes the stroller with him and walks off.

Steve's eyes trail after Bucky.

You know then that he knows. It's not hard after all. Hazel looks like a spitting image of Steve, something that had been hard for you to deal with at first. Her blonde hair and blue eyes—the blue eyes were easier since Bucky's eyes were blue too, even if a darker shade.

But Hazel was so lovely; you loved her so easily.

"When did you know?" Steve asked.

You shrugged. "The day before we all saved the world."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Steve's voice was pained and betrayed, and you cocked your brow at him.

"Why? So you would stay?"

"Yes, I would have!" Steve insisted.

The sheer stupidity of the situation had you give a humourless laugh.

"The last thing I want is for you to stay because of a baby, Steve. You wanted to leave, despite everything, you chose to leave. We would only hate each other in the long run."

"That's not true," Steve denied. "When I made that choice, it wasn't because I didn't love you anymore."

"No, you just didn't love me enough."

The words rang clear, almost throwing Steve off-kilter.

The silence fell, and the two of you could hear Hazel laughing with Bucky in the distance as she shrieked.

"Don't you think I deserved to know about her?" Steve asked with his lips pursed.

"No," you answered honestly. "What do you, a 90 something-year-old man, have to offer her? You certainly can't step up and be her father. Your time keeps running out and the last thing I need is for Hazel to have instability. Did you want to be her grandfather? She's already met mine, so do you want to pretend to be Bucky's?"

"So, you're just gonna lie to her and let her think Bucky is her dad?"

Your eyes flash angrily.

"Bucky is her dad. He's the only dad that counts in every way. Do you know how hard it was for me? I was scared shitless, Steve. You can delude yourself into thinking otherwise, but you're unreliable. I couldn't come to you for help," you snap at him. "Do you know who was there every time I was puking my guts out, crying or screaming, or wanted pickles with peanut butter at 2AM? Who do you think was there for every appointment. Who bought fifty parenting and baby books to study religiously? It was Bucky. Even though I knew he was scared too, he was there. So, don't fucking try to make me and Bucky look like the bad guy. You have NOTHING to offer to Hazel."

Steve stood there wide-eyed, guilt crowding over his eyes. Steve doesn't want to say he regrets going back because that would mean a lifetime of regrets he can't get back.

"You're right," Steve said slowly, trying to appease your anger. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. It's not my place to say anything."

Even though Steve says it, he looks over to the little girl squealing in Bucky's arms. He looks at her blonde hair that she clearly got from him and your nose.

He and Peggy had children—children he loved more than anything.

But...the idea of his child with you...that was another reality he missed.

It seems to be that way always for him, Steve thought somberly. He was always missing something. Maybe you had been right about him.

Steve listens as you take a deep breath in and exhale.

"Do you want to meet her?" You offer, and Steve can tell it's difficult for you to say those words.

"If you're okay with it," Steve said slowly.

You nod stiffly. "It's fine as long as you respect my wishes and refrain from telling her you're her bio dad. I want to save that conversation for when she's older and able to understand it more."

You don't say it, but Steve is already thinking how he'll most likely be gone by then.

The two of you begin to walk towards Bucky and Hazel.

"What will you tell her?" Steve asked.

"The truth," you shrug. "That you were the world's greatest hero and you loved her and would've loved to get to know her if you stayed, but you didn't and it wasn't her fault."

"Right, it was mine," Steve felt a sting in the back of his throat.

"I don't think it was anyone's fault," you tell him. "It's just karma, Steve. I wasn't enough for you and now you're not enough for Hazel."

Right, Steve thought somberly as he looked at you in your summer dress. It was different from the sexy red one that used to drive him insane.

It was a calm peace, a show of your motherhood and graceful maturity.

This dress is karma, too.

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

Magnetic Attraction

Word count: 3100

Warnings: Just fluffy tickles

This one is based on a prompt I received in a DM from a requester who wishes to remain anonymous. Here is the prompt:

"I was thinking a lee!bucky fic where he wanders into the lab and Tony had been working on a special heavy duty magnet for vibranium. Maybe Bucky didn’t know that and his arm gets stuck to the magnet but there’s no one in the lab to help him. Then the reader (who’s dating Bucky) wanders in and uses it to their advantage. Also, I was thinking that maybe the reader has telepathic powers and accidentally learns that Bucky likes being tickled just because it’s the opposite of the kind of touch he received for so many years"

I hope you enjoy!

Bucky didn’t frequent Tony’s lab all that often, but it seemed that on the rare occasions that he did, something went wrong.

Once, he’d stopped by to tell Tony that Steve was looking for him and made the mistake of getting too close to some chemical on the lab bench. The fumes smelled like burnt rubber and made him see double for hours.

Another time, when Bucky had popped in to grab one of the tools he needed to adjust his metal arm, one of Tony’s suits in sentinel mode attacked him for entering the lab unannounced. By the time Tony had returned from his lunch break, Bucky had been pinned to the wall by the robotic suit, a laser blaster aimed straight at his face. Tony called it off, but he laughed about it for days afterward.

Possibly the worst time was when Tony asked Bucky to come provide his “super soldier assistance” for a project in the lab. It turned out he wanted to test out a set of handcuffs he’d been working on that could hold genetically altered beings with excess strength. They worked. Tony wouldn’t let him out of them for a solid hour, going on about a box of cookies Bucky had ‘stolen’ from him. Telling the billionaire that anything stored in the kitchen cabinets was fair game certainly didn’t help matters.

Yes, he should honestly know better by now not to mess with Tony’s stuff. It always ended poorly for him.

And yet, for some reason, he never listened to his gut instinct.

Today, Bucky was seeking out the sarcastic scientist in his lab to get Peter some assistance. Bucky had the misfortune of walking by the teen’s bedroom while he was poring over some history assignment, and Peter had roped him into helping with the essay. The only problem was that the assignment covered a decade during which Bucky had been under Hydra’s control, and he couldn’t really offer much. Nor did he want to, really. He much preferred to forget about those years. Desperate to get out of this without hurting the poor kid’s feelings, Bucky had offered to get Tony to provide any information he might remember from his father.

Bucky entered the lab, glancing around the room in search of the billionaire. It seemed Tony must have been off on his lunch break, or perhaps Pepper had finally convinced him to go shopping with her like she’d been asking for weeks. In any case, the lab was completely uninhabited. He nearly turned around and left, but something unusual caught his eye, and he couldn’t suppress his curiosity. So, against his better judgement, he meandered over toward the large hunk of slate gray metal hanging from chains from the ceiling in the corner of the lab.

It looked strangely ordinary, yet at the same time very out of place. There was nothing around that indicated what it could possibly have been. Just a large, circular slab of leaden steel of some kind. Bucky reached up with both hands to grasp it and assess how heavy it was.

The soldier nearly shouted out in surprise when, before he’d quite touched the unusual object, his metal arm was suddenly pulled into the metal slab, his entire forearm sticking to the flat surface. He threw his weight backward to try to unstick himself, but the metal appendage was seemingly glued to the metal surface. After a few moments of struggling, Bucky paused for a moment to catch his breath and consider his options.

No one was near the lab enough to hear if he shouted for assistance. Not that he wanted to, anyway – if any of the guys found him like this, he’d never live it down that he’d fallen victim to yet another of Tony’s lab experiments. Honestly, it would be better if he could find a way out of this before Tony even returned, knowing he’d be the worst antagonist of all the Avengers if he saw what had happened. No, Bucky knew what he had to do, and he wasn’t exactly thrilled about that either; but at least this plan would be less humiliating than one of the guys happening across his predicament.

So, he slid his human hand into his pocket, pulled out his cell phone, and texted the one person he trusted to get him out of this mess without telling anyone else.

Moments later, you appeared in the doorway to the lab, a confused look on your face. When your eyes landed on Bucky standing awkwardly in the corner with his metal arm trapped above his head stuck to the strange piece of metal, your face morphed into one of understanding, quickly followed by amusement. You shook your head, grinning as you crossed the room and approached the super soldier.

“Seriously, Buck? How do you get yourself into these messes?” you laughed, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t make fun! That’s why I texted you and not Steve!”

“No – you texted me because you knew I’d keep this under wraps for you. And because you love me,” you retorted, smirking. “You know you can’t lie to me. I can literally read your mind.”

Bucky sighed, a slight grin spreading across his face. “I do love you. And I’d love you even more if you’d help me out of… whatever this is.”

The pair of you had been dating for a few months now. You intimidated Bucky at first – he knew you had telepathic capabilities, and there was a lot going on in his head that he didn’t exactly want to share with people, much less with a stranger. For some time after you’d joined the team, he avoided being in the same room with you for more than a few minutes at a time. If you happened to walk into the common room while he was watching TV, he’d promptly turn it off and walk out. If you decided to go work out in the training room while he was exercising, he’d wrap up his workout early and head to the showers.

It wasn’t until he was sent out on a mission with you that he was forced to spend more than a fleeting moment in your presence. He’d made a significant effort to fill his mind with neutral thoughts, ones that wouldn’t let you into the dark side of his world. And it was working pretty well for the first half of the mission.

Until it wasn’t.

One word from the enemy was all it took to remind him of his days with Hydra. The devastating memories flooded back into his head all at once, and he angrily lashed out at the offending enemy soldier, knocking him to the ground. Bucky was seething after that, but you kept a calm, cool head. You kept him grounded, pressed on with the mission and directed him emotionlessly on what needed to be done next. When he met your gaze, he found no shadow of pity behind your eyes. What he saw was understanding, kindness, and determination. You were going to lead him through this, and you were going to make certain he did his part, because you knew he didn’t want your pity. He needed the reminder that he had a mission to complete, and that he was good. A good soldier, a good hero, and a good person.

You never asked him to talk about his memories. You didn’t need to. Bucky found over time that it was actually comforting to know he’d never need to explain anything to you about his past – that you just knew, and you understood. He began to seek out your company instead of avoiding it, often just sitting with you in silence while he worked through his emotions internally. Just knowing you could read what was going through his head while he struggled, and that you’d place a comforting hand on his knee or his shoulder at exactly the right moment, was more than he could ask for.

It didn’t really come as a surprise to you when he’d finally gained the courage to ask you on a date. After all, you knew he’d been thinking about it for weeks. He supposed he could live with the downsides of dating a telepath, if it meant he’d gain the comfort of your company and your affection.

You looked up and inspected the metal slab, tugging on Bucky’s metal arm a bit to see if there was any give. “Wow. Guess Tony succeeded in making his magnet.”

“Magnet?”

“Yeah, didn’t you hear him blabbering about it at dinner yesterday? A magnet strong enough to attract vibranium?” you asked rhetorically, already knowing the answer. Bucky looked sheepish.

“I, uh… can’t say that I did.” You gave him a stern look, unable to keep from smirking a little. “Do you know how to turn it off, then?”

“He didn’t go into that much detail, no. But let me look around, maybe there’s a remote or something.” You paced around the lab, inspecting the cluttered lab benches in hopes of finding something useful. After a few minutes, you returned to Bucky’s side empty-handed. “Sorry, don’t see anything like a remote. Maybe he didn’t make it so it could turn on and off?”

“God, I hope not… I tried throwing my weight against the magnetic force already, and I can’t make it budge,” Bucky lamented.

“Well maybe if I help? Maybe the force of the two of us will break it?”

“It’s worth a shot, I guess,” he agreed. You folded your arms, looking at him through narrowed eyes.

“You don’t think it’s gonna work.”

“Well… no, I don’t. But you’re welcome to try!” Bucky admitted.

“You’re gonna eat your words if it works, Bucky Barnes.” You wandered around behind him, sliding your hands around his waist. Your touch was a bit too light against his sides, causing him to suck in a sharp breath of surprise. You paused, arms wrapped around his torso. “What was that about?”

“N-nothing…”

“Wait!” You released him, walking back around to face your super soldier boyfriend, who was growing red in the face. “How has it taken this long for me to find out you’re ticklish??”

“What?! Am noHAHAT!” Bucky’s fib was interrupted as you pinched at both sides for just a second, laughing as he doubled over as much as he could.

“You already know you can’t lie to me. Why do you still try so hard?” you teased, pacing back around behind him to continue digging into his sides without the obstacle of his human hand pushing you away so easily.

“Hehehey!! Doll, plehease!” he protested, twisting harshly now to evade your fingers without success.

“Maybe this will get you unstuck, Bucky! I just have to make you squirm hard enough!” Bucky felt his face heating up further as you teased him, bringing your hands down to scratch into his hipbones. He grabbed one of your hands with his human hand but couldn’t muster the strength to grab the other once he had caught hold of one.

And, truthfully, he didn’t really want to.

It had been years – no, probably decades – since someone had tickled him. The only touch he’d known for so much of his life was that of pain, of harsh torture at the hands of Hydra. Before you, he hadn’t experienced a gentle, caring touch since his days before the war. Your comforting hand on his knee, your warm embrace, your head leaned against his shoulder as you sat beside him on the sofa, your soft lips against his own… it was all more wonderful than he could remember. Maybe being tickled wasn’t quite on the same level as a kiss from you, but he’d been denied kind, playful touch for so long. He found it was actually sort of fun.

But of course, as he thought about the fact that he actually was enjoying himself, you were reading his thoughts.

You paused your tickling fingers for a moment, wrapping your arms around him more tightly and leaning your chin on his shoulder. He knew before you’d spoken that you’d read his thoughts again, his face now burning as though it were on fire.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed. It makes a lot of sense, you know.”

Bless you, not coming right out and saying it bluntly.

“I… guess.”

“It does! I promise!” You kissed him on the cheek, sneakily sliding your hands inward to claw into his belly. “And, in any case, you’re not going anywhere. I’m gonna need to find something to do with my time while we wait for Iron Nerd to come back with a solution.”

“Oho, so yohou’ve decided to tickle mehe to pass the tihihime?” Bucky retorted, but without any edge to his tone. He jolted suddenly as your fingers swept over a particularly sensitive spot just above his navel. He could practically hear the smirk on your face as you refocused your efforts on that spot, giggling as his laughter became more desperate.

“I don’t hear you making any other suggestions.” Your scratching increased in speed, clearly reveling in his reactions to your delicate touch. “Besides, this spot is pretty fun to tickle…”

“Ihi THOHOUGHT you were gohohoing to HEHELP me!” Bucky demanded through his hysterics.

“I tried! And this is helping you! I’m keeping you entertained too, passing the time, right?” At long last your fingers finally left that spot above his navel, only to latch onto the dead center of his ribcage and knead in between the spaces. The sensation was less ticklish than the spot on his belly, but only slightly more bearable. Bucky still found himself writhing under your touch. “Wait – do you know where your tickle spot is??”

“I…”

“You don’t, do you? Tsk, guess I’ll have to help you find it…” You lifted a hand to flutter your fingers at his neck, and he scrunched his shoulder as airy giggles escaped, quite an unusual sound coming from a super soldier. It made you giggle to listen to. “I don’t think this is it, but it’s damn cute to hear you laugh like that.”

“Doll, plehehease!” Bucky whined, feeling the heat in his face intensify, if that were at all possible.

“Please? Please what? Please help you find it?” You suddenly shifted to dig into his upper ribs, which were helplessly exposed from the position his metal arm was stuck to the magnet. The aggressive jolt you earned from him nearly made his metal arm actually budge a bit away from the magnet.

“WOHOAH OK-AHAH… YOHOU… YOU FOHOUND IT…” Bucky reached for your hand with his human hand, only opening up access to his upper ribs on the other side where you dug your fingers harshly into the sensitive skin.

“You say that as though that’s the end! I’ve got to test it out to be sure!” you goaded, continuing your assault on both sides of his upper ribs without mercy. As much fun as he was having with this playful side of you, he wasn’t certain he could actually tolerate the unbearably ticklish sensation for very long.

“BAHAH… BAHABE PLEHEHEASE!” he pleaded helplessly. You slowed your torment, tickling your way down his sides for good measure before finally releasing him from your hold.

“That was so cute – I’m gonna need to do that more often,” you gushed, grinning at the winded super soldier. Bucky didn’t respond, merely groaning as he caught his breath from laughing so hard. “Oh!”

“Oh? Oh what?” He was genuinely confused by your outburst. You reached up above your head to grasp the side of the magnet. There was a clicking sound, followed shortly thereafter by a yelp as Bucky’s arm suddenly detached from the magnet, nearly causing him to collapse to the floor in surprise. He stumbled forward, regaining his balance and his composure.

His first thought was an intense sense of relief that he’d been freed from Tony’s science experiment. Soon, though, he began to realize exactly what had just happened. Without turning to look at you, he suddenly spoke, his tone low and ominous.

“Do you mean to tell me… the off button was within my reach this entire time?”

“Well… er…” You sounded nervous. Good, he thought. He rounded on you, taking advantage of your surprise to wrap you up in a bear hug in his arms and wasting no time in digging his fingertips into your ribcage. You exploded into hysterics the moment he touched you, squirming and writhing in his hold.

“So, you’re telling me – hold still, I need to tickle you! – You’re telling me that I could have escaped that entire time?!”

“Y-YEHEHES!” you screeched, doubling over as his fingers traveled to your belly and dug into the spot just below your ribs on either side. “BAHAHAH… BUCKY!”

“Don’t Bucky me! You deserve punishment for tricking me,” he growled teasingly in your ear, scratching rapidly into your belly. “I don’t need to read your mind to know where you’re most ticklish, hmm?”

“IHI DIDN’T… AHAHAI DIDN’T TRIHICK YOU!” you cried.

“Oho, you may not have intended to, but you certainly did,” he teased, bringing down his metal hand to drill into your hip while his human hand moved to worm his way under your arm. Bucky was genuinely concerned he may have broken you, based on the high-pitched shriek followed quickly by silent, shaking laughter. “Wow! Which spot made you make that noise??”

You shook your head wildly, wordlessly insisting that you weren’t going to tell him. But, of course, you didn’t have to. He shot his metal hand up under your other arm, bringing back the loud, desperate giggles you’d elicited earlier. With a hum of understanding, he swiftly brought both hands down to your hips, toggling his thumbs into the soft spot just inside your hipbones.

“BU-AHAH… BUCK… MER… MEHERCY!!” you pleaded. After another moment of torment for good measure, he finally relented, hugging you close to his chest while you hiccupped and sucked in oxygen to catch your breath.

“You were right – that was a great way to pass the time!” Bucky teased, leaning forward to plant his lips on your cheek. You scoffed, a smile still plastered to your face.

"Yeah, I know," you agreed, reaching behind you to squeeze his sides briefly. He laughed, grabbing your wrists. "That's still the most adorable thing I've ever seen you do."

"Yeah, yeah..." He waved your comment off dismissively, taking your hand in his and leading you toward the door. "Come on - let's get out of here before Tony gets back."

You walked by Bucky's side, your fingers laced through his, your palm warm against his own. He tugged on your hand to pull you a little closer, wrapping his arm around you instead. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a small smile spread across your lips.

"Hey Buck?"

"Hmm?" He paused just before he reached out to grasp the door handle to the lab, turning his head to look at you.

"You know - if you want my... affection... you don't have to ask. Just... think about it." You smirked teasingly at him as he rolled his eyes.

"Sure. I'll 'think' about it." He couldn't help but grin at you as he opened the door, allowing you to exit while he held it open for you. There were some perks to dating a mind reader, he supposed.

You always knew exactly how to make him feel loved.

Part 2

[winter-soldier-vibes]

“I Don’t Hate You Like I Hate Myself” (Bucky x reader)

“I don’t hate you like I hate myself”

Bucky x reader

Word count: 4224

Warnings: eating disorder/bulimia, self hate

Summary: Reader suffers from an eating disorder and Bucky finds her purging one night. 

A/N: Sorry it’s been so long, I really am. It’s been a hell of a few months. Still working through it and writing has been helping me. I hope you are all doing well, reach out to me if you need me, and of course, if this in ANY WAY may harm your journey, feel free to skip <3

------------------------

“Goodnight guys” you said, a slight laugh in your voice. You stood up with your empty plate and placed it in the sink. There were a few groans around the table.

“But it’s so early,” Tony said, the others nodding in agreement

You looked at the watch on your wrist. “It’s 8 pm, Tony.”

“Exactly!” Thor said, shaking his head as if it were obvious. 

You shook your head at them. “Goodnight everyone,” you said, turning around and walking up the stairs.

As soon as you were out of sight, you let out a breath of relief and dropped the smile. You rubbed your face in exhaustion and closed your eyes a little, feeling heavier with each step. Truth be told, you were exhausted. But you still had something else you had to do. 

You pick up the pace walking to your room, thoughts spiraling faster as you closed the door and locked it. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., turn on soundproofing.” you said.

“As you wish, y/n.” the A.I. responded. 

You sighed, and went into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you. You knew no one would come in, but it was a force of habit by now. You tied your hair back and filled a hidden water bottle with tap water before chugging it, and then lifted the toilet seat. ‘Damn family dinners,’ you thought to yourself. You took a deep breath as you leaned over the toilet, pushing one hand into your stomach and used the other to stick 3 fingers down your throat. After a few small gags, you started choking up your dinner as well. 

You had tears streaming down your face, not necessarily from sadness but from exertion. You coughed after one particular gag, until eventually nothing more came up. You placed your hands on either side of the toilet to steady yourself, back heaving up and down as you tried to catch your breath. Your heart raced and your head pounded, so you tightly shut your eyes and shook your head slightly. 

You stood in front of the mirror, sideways. You lifted your shirt and sucked in your stomach as much as you could. It was flat.

‘That’s much better,’ you thought to yourself. You flushed the toilet and turned on the shower. You became emotionless, running through the routine you always did. Wash your hands, cold water to the face, spray the air freshener, and take a shower to wash away the shame. 

You didn’t want to do this to yourself. You just didn't know what else to do. 

You thought it was just about the food. It was just about the way you looked, the size of your clothes, the number on the scale. That was all it was supposed to be. How did it grow to be so much more?

Every time was supposed to be the last time. You never meant to do it. But any time you ate anything, you just felt sick to your stomach. At first it was with shame and anxiety - now it was a physical nausea that overtook you. You thought this would make it easy to eat less, and it did. 

Until you felt sad

Or mad

Or stressed

Or a mission went slightly wrong

Or you began overthinking the smallest things

And whenever you felt anything negative you just needed to replace that with something else. A distraction, something to numb you out. To make you feel less than this overwhelming, crushing emotion. You needed to get it out. 

So you ate.

And then you threw it all up with all of your emotions, until you were left in a quiet bliss

You knew, logically, as a human, that you needed to eat. But it always felt wrong. Like it wasn’t for you, like you were weak for eating. You weren’t naive, you knew the side effects of bulimia. You had begun to experience a few of them - dizziness mainly. But it hadn’t become an issue yet. It didn’t interfere with your work, therefore, it wasn’t a problem. No one had caught on aside from a few minorly concerned looks. Not that you would ever let anyone in. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust the team, God no. You loved them and would trust them with anything other than your mind. No, it was more of an embarrassed sickening feeling you got. You didn’t know what to say, there was no reasonable explanation for this. Hell, you didn’t even quite know why you did what you were doing. It was easier this way, simpler. 

It was your problem to fight. Not theirs. You knew your limits. 

With a sigh, you turn off the shower water, stepping out and wrapping a towel lazily around yourself. You kept your eyes from the mirror as you stepped into your room and over to your dresser to put on some pajamas. Sweatpants and a tank top. You sat on your bed and flopped back, rubbing your hands over your face. 

Another day done. Countless more to go.

You looked at your phone to check any notifications. Aside from a few news updates, there were 2 texts from Bucky:

‘You okay?’ received 42 minutes ago

‘If you’re not you know where I am. Sleep well’ received 38 minutes ago.

You smiled a little. You were all a family, you and the team. Bucky and you seemed to bond in the way that introverts tend to. The way that brings out the extrovert in the other. The way that hanging out didn’t have to mean you spoke because you both found comfort in the silence. You grew the closest with him, often checking in with each other. If he had a nightmare, he came to you. Or you went to him, depending on how bad it was. You would talk to him about small matters, but you would never think of telling him about any of this.

You shuddered at the thought. No one could ever know about this. 

You closed your phone after deciding it was best not to respond. It had been too much time since he had sent the messages, and if you sent something now he might wonder what you had been doing for almost 45 minutes. Best to not reply until morning, blaming it on the exhaustion that never left your body. 

You placed your phone on your nightstand and rolled over, shutting your eyes and willing sleep to come easily. Over time you began sleeping less and less, and now it was a miracle if you were able to at all. Maybe it was the hunger pains, or the reflux, or this overwhelming fear that something bad was going to happen. The stress of being an Avenger, of keeping up your act, of being perfect all the time. 

It was exhausting. But not in the way that sleep would ever be able to fix. 

No, this was a type of tiredness that kept you awake. You had to stay alert all the time. Sleep wasn’t restful or enjoyable anymore. It was elusive. You needed a break from your life. Sleep wouldn’t ever be able to provide that. Not when you would be waking up to deal with it all over again. 

You sighed. You hated this. You hated what you were doing, you hated that you couldn’t stop. You hated that you couldn’t tell anyone about it. Not because you didn’t trust them, but because you didn’t know if you wanted to stop. And if you let them in, you didn’t want to be letting them down by slipping up. And you wanted to stop but...you didn’t know how. You didn’t feel good enough, you didn’t feel like you deserved it. And nothing else could make you feel better like this could

You hated yourself. You hated yourself in a way that no one else ever could. In a way that made you wonder if you would ever be able to love yourself with the innocence you once did. 

You turned over again, willing your racing thoughts to slow to a steady jog at least. You took deep breaths, still trying to calm your pounding heart from earlier. As you started to relax a little, feeling closer to sleep, you remembered one last thing you had to do.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., turn soundproofing off,” you said softly.

“Of course, Y/N,” the A.I. responded.

And with that, you drifted off.

-----

You were rudely awakened by a few sharp knocks at your door. You startled awake and sat up quickly, only to be greeted by a huge headrush. “One minute,” you called out groggily, rubbing your eyes and standing up. Once again, your vision began to black out but you ignored it. You were used to it at this point. It always went away eventually. You pulled over a cardigan and padded over to the door, opening it.

You opened the door to a very much awake Bucky, who seemed to have just gotten back from a run. You weakly smiled, hoping you didn’t look as tired as you felt. Unfortunately, you don’t think that was the case, seeing as Bucky’s smile almost immediately faltered as he took in your tired face. Dark circles under your eyes and a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. 

“Yes, Buck?” you asked, pulling him out of his concerned stare.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly. He knew what being tired felt like, but he had never seen it to this extent on anyone aside from him. He knew you had been tired lately, going to bed early, waking up late, yet seeming to grow more tired by the day. 

You sighed and rubbed your eyes a little. “Yeah, I’m good. Just trying to wake up a little.” you said with a little laugh, dismissive. 

Bucky worried about you. He felt close to you but he worried that you didn’t feel close to him. He could always count on you to be someone he could turn to. But no matter how hard he tried, you didn’t seem comfortable opening up to him. He knew it would take time and he didn’t take it personally. He just wanted to be able to be there for you the way that you were there for him. He knew something had been bothering you, he just didn’t know how to approach it. 

He looked into your eyes. “You sure about that?” he asked.

You mustered the best smile you could. “Yes, I am fine. Just -”

“Tired. I know what that’s like,” he said with a slight laugh. “You know that you don’t have to be fine right?” he said reassuringly. It had become his line with you, to make sure that you knew he was there if you wanted to open up. And while you found it very sweet, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. You wanted to trust him, and you hated making him feel like you didn’t trust him. You just didn’t know how. 

Instead you opted for a nod with a small laugh, desperate to get as far away from this conversation as possible. “I swear, I’m fine,” you said a little more strongly this time. 

Bucky nodded, unconvinced but willing to drop it. If you weren’t ready to talk about it, that was okay. For now. “Do you want to come down and get some breakfast? I think Sam and Clint were making a ton of food for everyone. 

You ran through your options. If you didn’t go down, people would be suspicious. If you did, you would have to eat and find time to get rid of it after, plus deal with the banter of the team for leaving so early. You weren’t supposed to eat yet, it was far too early. But Bucky was already suspicious, so it would be best if you just went down and got rid of it later. All of this ran through your mind in a second before you said:

“Yeah, sure, I’ll be down in a few minutes,” to which Buck turned around and you closed the door. 

After a few seconds you closed your eyes and sighed heavily, resting your head against the door. You cursed yourself internally for agreeing but knew it was the option that raised the least suspicion. You went into the bathroom to wash your face quickly and before you knew it you were studying your body. Turning around, looking at yourself from every possible angle. It happened every time. Coming back to reality, you dressed quickly in some baggy clothes before taking a deep breath and heading down to the kitchen area. 

You were greeted with the smell of all things breakfast, and when you walked in you saw loads of everything there could possibly be. They really went all out. Which made you even more nervous: you didn’t want to seem ungrateful or hurt their feelings. 

You had stopped at the door, and Tony was the first to see you.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty,” he said, bringing the small conversation to a stop for a moment while everyone recognized your appearance. You gave a small wave and a smile before coming in and sitting down. You tried your best to not show your anxiety or exhaustion. There was so much food, and you didn’t want to offend people by not eating but you didn’t know if you would be able to stop once you started. 

Everyone was sitting around the table making small conversation and starting to eat. You were taking deep breaths as nonchalantly as you could. You grabbed a few things to put on your plate, trying to keep a steady hand. You didn’t want to draw any attention to yourself. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem - you’d have a few days of no one noticing you skipping meals, then have dinner all together before you all parted ways. You could prepare for that. But breakfast the morning after was sprung on you, and you didn’t think you should be eating in this small of a time window. 

You tried to join in on the conversation, pushing things around on your plate as you did so. You thought you were hiding it well, but from across the table you caught Bucky glancing your way with concern. So you started eating more. 

It was delicious, you couldn’t deny that. You soon cleaned your plate and began filling it back up with more this time. You could feel your stomach expanding and your heart rate was picking up. As you finished your second plate of food, you felt the anxiety set in. You tried to remind yourself that it was a normal amount, and that you hadn’t been eating enough for a normal person. Eating was normal. Eating was normal. 

But you weren’t normal. 

“Well, this has been great, and thank you Sam and Clint, but I think I’m going to go lie down,” you interjected into the conversation, pushing your chair out.

“Leaving again so early?” Tony asked, not unkindly. You looked around the table before landing eyes on Bucky, concern filling his face.

You swallowed nervously before saying. “Yeah, sorry guys. See you in a bit!” you added and hoped you didn’t sound as desperate as you felt to leave the room. You turned around and walked towards the door, conversation picking back up while Bucky watched you leave. Something didn’t sit right with him.

After you had gotten around the corner you picked up the pace, resisting breaking into a jog. You made it to your room, heart pounding in your chest and nearly threw yourself in, closing the door and turning to the bathroom. You closed that door too, locking it as a force of habit. You were usually methodical about this process, you had a system. But you were desperate at this point. You tied your hair up messily and filled up a hidden water bottle at the sink before chugging it and turning to the toilet. 

Back in the kitchen, Bucky decided that he was going to go check on you. He excused himself and thanked Sam and Clint for the food before heading in the direction of your room. 

You were bent over the toilet retching. You hated this so much. It hurt, it didn’t feel good, but you felt so relieved doing it. You couldn’t explain it. You didn’t like doing it, but it somehow was the one thing that helped you feel better.

What you didn’t realize was that you hadn’t locked your room door. Nor did you turn on the soundproofing feature of your room. 

Bucky knocked on your room door, to which he was met with silence. You simply didn’t hear him. Not liking the feeling in his stomach, he let himself in. To his surprise, you weren’t there. But then he heard you retching. 

He furrowed his brows. Why hadn’t you said you were sick? Closing the door behind him, he walked over to the bathroom door before knocking. And you froze.

“Are you okay in there?” you heard him ask.

Shit. 

You swallowed before responding with “Yeah, I’m fine.” You cursed yourself for the weakness and wavering in your voice. You quickly flushed the toilet and turned to the mirror. You were a mess, red face and tear-streaked face. You washed your hands and then your face, trying to get rid of as much inflammation as you could. 

You took a deep breath and leaned against the sink. How could you have forgotten the most important parts of your process? How could you have been so stupid? How were you going to talk yourself out of this?

“Y/n?”

You opened the door with your head down as you tried to walk around Bucky. But he gently stood in front of you before guiding your face to his, his eyes widening at your red eyes and face. 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone you were sick?” he asked.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“You’re not fine if you’re throwing up. I swear, if Sam made something that made you sick -”

“It’s not like that” you interrupted.

Bucky paused for a moment. “What do you mean it’s not like that?”

You clenched your jaw and looked away, backing up a little. “Nevermind.”

Bucky stood in front of you again, a little more insistent now. “No, what do you mean? Are you sick?”

“Buck-”

“Y/n.” he insisted. 

You took a deep breath. “I throw up sometimes,” you said quietly, but loud enough for Bucky to hear it. He shifted on his feet. “What do you mean?”

You looked at him sadly, shaking your head. “It won’t make sense,” you said.

“Then help me understand,” he said. 

You took a few breaths before trying to piece it together. “I don’t know what happened. I was just supposed to lose a few pounds. And sometimes I would eat too much, and throwing up made me feel better. And now I can’t stop. It was just supposed to be about losing weight but now I can’t stop,” you finished before finally looking him in the eye again.

Bucky’s face contorted to one of more concern. Your eyes filled with tears at finally revealing your secret. Bucky came closer to you and pulled you into a hug as you sobs started wracking your body. Bucky held you tightly, whispering that it was okay. He breathed deeply and steadily, hoping you would be able to fall in rhythm with him. 

You were able to start breathing with him and calming down. After a few moments of silence, Bucky asked “How long has this been going on?”

You shook your head. “I don’t even know.” you said, defeated. 

Bucky took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

You shrugged weakly. “It wasn’t your problem.” you said.

“I want to help, y/n,” he said, pulling away to look at you. “You always help me or anyone else on the team whenever we need it. If we were going through this wouldn’t you want to help us?”

“Of course I would,” you said firmly, tears building up.

“Then why can’t you let me help you the way you help me?” he asked.

You shook your head lightly. “It’s not that simple, Buck.”

He looked at you, confused. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not like that,” you said a little louder, turning around. You could feel yourself beginning to break.

“What’s the difference between me and you? Why can’t-”

“Because I don’t HATE you!” you exclaimed, turning around with pain in your eyes. “It’s not the same thing because I don’t hate you. I want to help you, because you are a good person, and I like you. I don’t like myself. I deserve this so I’ve accepted that this is what I need to do. I don’t care if it hurts me, because I don’t care about myself!” you yelled, tears streaming down your face again and breathing heavily. “That’s the fucking difference.”

Bucky looked at you sadly. “Is that really how you feel about yourself?” he asked, saddened even more when you began nodding. “What did you do that was so wrong?”

You shook your head, anger calming down into sadness. “I don’t know. I never liked myself. I don’t feel like I belong anywhere, and I never have. And I’ve accepted that I may never feel like I will. This isn’t the kind of sick I know how to heal. People catch a cold or break a bone and there are active steps to fix it and a set timeline before it gets better. And it won’t bother them again. But this,” you tap both sides of your head repeatedly, “this I can’t fix. I don’t know how, I don’t know where to start. I’ve tried but it never really goes away. There’s no medicine or action or rest period or any kind of shit like that. It’s me against me. I’m always gonna lose this battle. I’m not the kind of sick that can get better, Buck,” you shrugged slightly and shook your head. “Not for me.” 

Bucky’s face saddened even more, knowing all too well the feeling of not belonging. He knew the pain of self doubt and self hate, and feeling like you were a bad person. But he had done so many things as the winter soldier, how he killed so many innocent lives. You were one of the kindest people Bucky knew. He didn’t understand how you could feel this way. 

Bucky started walking closer to you slowly. “Y/n...I know what that feeling is like. You know that. But I don’t understand why you would feel that way about yourself.” he was now standing in front of you. “You’re one of the most generous people I know, you’ve helped me so much. I know you’ve helped everyone here. No one here hates you, y/n.” 

“I know,” you said. Before Bucky could respond you continued, “I know there’s no reason for me to feel this way. I know logically I didn’t do anything wrong. But it’s just this...this thing in my head. And it never goes away. And I know all it tells me is lies but the only way I can make it stop is by throwing up. I know it’s messed up, I just can’t make it stop,” you said, looking down again.

Bucky guided your face back to meet his. “Can I try to help? You can always talk to me about anything, you know that right?”

You breathed out. “I don’t know,” you said truthfully. 

Bucky noticeably stiffened, and you quickly added, “It’s not that I don’t trust you. Not at all, I do, it’s just that I don’t want to disappoint you.” you said. “I don’t want to fuck up and hurt you because I couldn’t be strong. I don’t want to bother you every goddamn day with this petty bullshit I have going on.” you took a deep breath and looked away again. “I don’t want you to leave out of frustration that I couldn’t be strong for you.”

“Is that really what you think I would do?” he asked. When you nodded, he went on. “I would never be disappointed at you trying your best. It’s okay to mess up, to have bad days, it’s not going to be perfect. Life can be a little fucked up sometimes, but what I’ve learned is that the hardest way through it is alone.” he said with emphasis, knowing all too well the pain of keeping your emotions in. 

You leaned into him again, his arms wrapping you into a hug. “Promise you won’t leave?” you asked softly.”

His arms tightened around you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[falcqns]

Hiiii! Long rant ahead 😅-

Can I please request a Bucky x civilian!fem!reader (Avengers au! Endgame never happened au! Bucky joined the Avengers au!) where Sam & Steve are friends with a civilian girl who Bucky starts to really like (but Bucky being Bucky, he’d be worried she would be scared of him, & he thinks he’s a monster 🥺 so he wouldn’t admit he likes her), she really likes him too, & one day when she’s spending the night at the Avengers HQ, he has another nightmare & she calms him down & goes to sleep on the floor with him & they cuddle & he kisses her 🥺 The next morning, Sam & Steve would go up to Bucky’s floor & see them cuddling on the floor of Bucky’s living room🥺 The rest of the Avengers would come up there out of curiosity & Tony would tease them so much & try to take pictures lol. Steve & Sam would be smug but also really happy for Bucky because she’d be good for him 🥺🥺🥺 Sam would annoy Bucky so much about it 😂😂💜🥰

you could never hurt me

pairing: Bucky Barnes x civilian!fem!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, soft!Bucky, almost sub!Bucky which I love and wanna write more of but im scared too bc idk if people want that, Tony being a dumb ass as usual, Sam and Steve are good friends

a/n: this got wayyy more fluffier than I planned on bc I've been diving into the little!Bucky tag on AO3 too much and he’s always such a sweetheart and I wanna write some but im too scared I’ll get hated on eep. Hope you enjoy and thank you for the request!

God, you adored Bucky.

Despite everything he had been through, he was such a sweetheart. He had a softness to him, a softness he didn’t show most people. 

You really didn’t expect to fall for him when you started running with Sam and Steve a few months prior, but you definitely weren’t complaining. However, despite the softness you saw, he seemed to hate you. 

You didn’t know why. He was never verbally rude, he’d often leave a room as soon as you’d enter it, and avoid you as much as possible. 

You’d been over to the compound plenty of times, but you had never spent the night. Tonight was Tony’s birthday party, and you wanted to talk to Bucky about why he hated you so much, but you didn’t see him at the party, or after. According to Steve, he hated parties, and tended to lock himself in his bedroom  until the party was over, when he would venture out and eat some of the left over food.

Once the party was over, you and the rest of the avengers, except Bucky, were sat in one of the many common areas drinking a few more beers before everyone retired for the night. 

You heard Bucky’s door shut behind him, and watched as he walked into the kitchen. The team seemed to completely ignore his presence, and that stung a little bit. Did they not see the sweet and innocent Bucky that you, Sam and Steve saw? You shook the thought out of your head as Bucky trudged back to his room with some food and a drink in his hand, completely ignoring his teammates. 

You sighed internally, and decided to bring it up another time. 

You had just settled into your bed for the night, when you heard noises from Bucky’s room, which was right beside yours. You ignored them at first, thinking they were just him moving around and getting ready for bed, just like you had moments before. But, soon you started to hear different noises. 

You stood up from the bed, and pressed your ear against the wall that separated the two rooms. It sounded like he was trying to call out for someone, and couldn't. Like he wanted to talk so badly, but his words were catching in his throat. You feared that he could be severely hurt, so you ran out of your room and knocked on his door. 

“Bucky, you okay?” You said, and the sounds only continued. As they got louder, you knocked again, but there was still no answer. You tried the door knob, but it was locked. You looked down the hallways and was tempted to knock on Steve’s door. You wanted to make sure he was okay and you were definitely not strong enough to kick the door in.  

Just as you were reaching Steve’s door, you heard a low shout, and sobs rip through the air. You ran back to the room and tried the door handle, which was still locked. You breathed deeply, as you tried to figure out what to do. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” You asked hesitantly, and she answered right away. 

“What can I assist you with Ms Y/L/N?” 

You breathed in relief. “Can you unlock Bucky’s door for me?” 

“Sergeant Barnes has restricted access to his room. The only one who was access is Captain Rogers.” You groaned. 

“I just want to make sure he’s okay. He can get mad at me all he wants for breaking into the room but he doesn't sound okay,” You reasoned.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. responded instantly. “I agree. His heart rate and blood pressure are rising. I will unlock the door.” A second later, a low click was heard, and this time when you tried the door, it unlocked and you stepped into Bucky’s room. 

The sight of him broke your heart. 

He had abandoned his blankets on the floor and crawled into one of the corners. His knees were pulled up to his chest, and his forehead was resting on his knees as he cried his poor heart out. You rushed over, and crouched in front of him. 

“Bucky? Are you okay?” You asked, and he shook his head, trembling slightly. You heard his teeth chattering, so you grabbed the comforter from behind you, and wrapped it around his shoulders. His cries slowed slightly, and he looked up at you.

“W-why are you helping me?” He asked, stuttering slightly. 

You furrowed your brows. “You’re obviously not doing well, and I want to help you. Why wouldn't I help you?” 

Bucky choked out a laugh. “I thought you'd be scared of me. Of what I can do. Of what I've done.” 

You sat criss cross apple sauce in front of him, and took his metal hand into your flesh one. You held it up, and intertwined your fingers with his. “I’m not scared of you.” You said simply, and Bucky nodded, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. 

He looked down at his lap. “I could hurt you.”

You scoffed and moved closer. Without letting go of his hand, you manoeuvred to your knees, and pushed his legs down flat. You straddled his lap, you free hand rising and tangling in his locks that were wet from both his shower and sweat. “You could never hurt me.” You stated, your hand in his hair sliding down to cup his jaw, your thumb rubbing against his soft and kissable cheek. 

You watched as a tear slipped from his eye, and danced like a rain drop in a carwash down his soft but still stubbly cheek and jaw. 

“Why are you so nice to me? I don’t deserve it.” He whispered, his chin trembling. You smiled sadly and wiped the tear away. 

“You are is deserving of everything sweetheart. You’re such a sweetie pie and it sucks that the rest of your team doesn't see it, because you deserve all the loves and cuddles you could get. What you did, that wasn’t you. It may have been your body, but it wasn't you. You have been treated so harshly by so many people, including those who were supposed to protect you from those who did hurt you, when all you deserve is such kindness.” You said, and smiled when Bucky practically melted into your embrace, his head burying itself in your neck. He unraveled your fingers, and wrapped his arms around your waist, his face nuzzling in your neck. 

“Thank you. No ones ever said something that nice to me,” He said, and you felt his eyes flutter closed against the skin of your neck, finally at peace. 

“You deserve it.” You said, and you pulled away slightly. He let out a whine, but then his eyes widened, almost expecting you to hurt him. Your heart melted and you pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

“It’s okay if you’re feeling vulnerable, baby. I’m right here. I won't leave, and I won't hurt you. Let’s lay down okay?” You said, and he sniffled as he nodded and followed you groggily over to where his blankets were on the floor. You laid down, and opened your arms, inviting him in. 

He laid down in your arms, and his face found your neck again. He breathed in slightly, and sat up on his elbow suddenly. You furrowed your brow, but all the questions that were swirling in your head were answered when he pressed his lips against yours. You smiled into the kiss, and cupped his jaw again as your lips moved together slowly and sensually. 

The kiss broke a few moments later, and you ran a hand through Bucky’s hair, a dopy smile spreading on his face. 

You opened your arms again. “Come lay down, love.” You said, and he instantly complied, his body finding its previous position. You heard his breathing even out seconds later, and knew he was finally getting the sleep he deserved.

The next morning, Steve and Sam went looking all over the compound for you, and couldn’t find you anywhere. They walked past Bucky’s room once more, and made eye contact. 

“You don’t think-”

“Theres no way-” They said at the same time, and decided to look.

 A smile cracked on both their faces when they saw you and Bucky, still curled up on the floor. 

A flash went off, and they turned to face Tony. “Fuckin’ finally. Been waiting for Tin Man to make a move for months.” He said, and Steve smacked him upside the head. 

Taglist:

All:

@kpopgirlbtssvt @@nerdypinupcrystal @@sohoseb @@bieberhoodforever @crazy-avengers-gal @colicovision @est19xxshit

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Reckoning

Breach Masterlist

Warnings: non/dubcon sex (series), general angst, violence, death, trauma.

This is dark!Winter Soldier/Bucky and explicit. 18+ only.

Note: Promise I’ll update the masterlist today but here we are, we’re finally at the end. We’re saying goodbye to Bucky, Luka, and reader in this one. We’ve come a far way. This was one of the first series I started on here. It started as a one shot about the asset being the scariest but you guys turned it into something more, so thank you. (also that’s three endings in less than a week :))

I won’t demand but do ask for feedback; likes, reblogs, replies, comments, asks, especially on this series, but again, enjoy in your own way! <3 Love you!

You played with the leather strap around your thigh as you sat in the rattly train car. The freight was much like the one that saw you away from your prison so long ago and the same man sat with you, huddled behind the metal barrels and wooden crates. 

Your eyes rolled inside their lids as you thought of your son and his innocent voice as he sang his goodbye to you. Luka didn’t know you might not come back. It broke your heart to think you might not but you couldn’t let James face Hydra alone. He hadn’t let you.

Your hand settled over the gun strapped to your leg, another holstered against your chest beneath your jacket. There was a knife at your ankle and another at your belt. You were ready but you weren’t. How could you ever be ready for any of this?

“We’re almost there,” James whispered as he shifted beside you, “you alright?”

“Yeah, I…” you opened your eyes and tore your hand away from the gun, “ready.”

He nodded and got up to his feet, squatting behind the cargo as he pulled you up into a similar crouch. He checked your weapons then his own. He looked at you again and his lips thinned into an anxious line.

“Are you ready?” you asked.

“I have to be,” he answered and reached out to caress your cheek. You leaned into his hand then pulled him to you to peck his lips. He always seemed so meek when you touched him but he was softening.

“We are ready, James,” you assured him as much as yourself, “for Luka, we have to be.”

“You follow my lead. You can’t hesitate, understand?”

“I know,” you said, “I won’t. Those men, what they did to you… to us, they can never have our son. Never.”

“Never,” he echoed and turned. 

He kept low as he crept around the boxes and you followed. He unhooked the door and let it slide open with a loud grind. He reached back until you grabbed onto his arm and he stared at the moving ground.

“Up ahead, the bushes. You first, I’ll be right after you,” he said.

“I remember,” you said, “I know where we are.”

He looked at you and you let out a breath as you readied for your jump, “I lived close to here… with my mother.”

“Oh,” he uttered and went quiet.

“Come on,” you stood but kept hunched as you prepared to roll on impact, “this is about ending the past, not reliving it.”

He counted down and you leapt as the bushes thickened. You landed and rolled through the branches and dingy leaves. You heard him thumped down not far from you as you gulped the air. He was up before you and came to stand over you and offered his hand to get you to your feet. Despite it all, you barely felt the crash to earth.

“So you know where we are,” he said, “so you know where we go first.”

You pushed your shoulders back and sniffed. You said nothing and marched past him. He ran to catch up to you and you walked into the thin skeletal line of trees. He fixed the long bag on his back that held his rifle as his boots crushed the twigs and stones.

“Are you sure you’re--”

“What do we need from there?” you asked, “we get it and we go on.”

“Anything that’s left,” he replied.

You kept on, the terrain turning uneven and soon you were in the rocky passes that brought back bloody memories. That night with Luka in your arms as you walked in the boots of a deadman. You shuddered and kept on. You unholstered your gun as you got closer and James caught your shoulder before you could outpace him.

“I take the lead,” he warned, “you gotta slow down. You can’t just run in there and--”

“If there are any left, I will put them all down,” you swore as your hand shook, “you can’t understand. I have anger in my veins like none I’ve known before.”

He stared at you a moment and thoughts drew his brows together. His lips parted before he found the words, “and what else do you feel?”

“Certain,” you said, “that this will be over soon.”

He lowered his chin and puffed, his breath forming a cloud in the chill air, “this post is abandoned. They couldn’t have stayed after what happened but you stay alert and you point your gun at anything that moves.”

You nodded and he patted your arm. He turned and took the path ahead of you, the trail thinning out the further you got into the low mountains. As you approached the metal doors, he slowed and aimed his gun at the facade of the hidden compound. Rocks clattered beneath his boots and you brought your own weapon up in nervous expectation.

The doors were slightly open and he kicked one open, quickly poking his muzzle inside. He waved you on and you continued down the concrete hallway. The place was cleaned out but the bloodstains remained, painted across the floors and walls.

He led you down the corridors and checked each room as you waited without, watching each end of the hallway as he cleared the place. The further you got, the more the forlorn nostalgia took over you. You felt off, you felt every drop of blood coursing through you and the hot fury mingled with helpless sadness. You felt entirely weak but so powerful

When you got to the heart of the structure, you stopped and watched as James hesitated in turn. He braced himself and went forward into the eerily familiar room. The computers were smashed and the rusty medical equipment littered the floor. The glass chamber they used to keep him in bore the destruction of his escape and he went to it and peered inside.

You flinched as he broke away the last of the glass with his metal fist and quickly retreated. He was shaking as he began to tear open the filing cabinets, the locks cracking at the force of his intrusion.

You walked along the wall and slowly faced the windowed room. The bed was still there and the sparse furniture of your former existence. Your mouth fell open as your eyes tingled with tears. Those early days when you waited, when you dreaded his visits, when you watched him through the glass and wished for death.

You winced as he came up beside you and gently touched your arm. You looked at him and flicked away the moisture in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said and his cheek twitched in pain, “I’m so sorry--”

“James, I know it wasn’t you,” you said, “I don’t cry because of you, it is because of them.” You took his hand and squeezed it, “did you find anything?”

“A few things but not what we’re looking for,” he said, “this place is abandoned. Whatever was left of… the experiment has moved.”

“And we know it will be where we’re headed?”

“Stark’s intelligence suggests it will be and… from what I can remember, it’s likely. Bigger than this place. They took me there in the early days.” He cleared his throat and looked around, “we’ll keep going until dawn. We will find somewhere close enough to rest and then…”

“And then we finish this,” you let go of his hand and moved past him, “James, I’m ready. I really am.”

✰

After some hours in a half-burned hut, you were wired. You ate rations under the open roof before you set out again. You hadn’t slept much as you and James took turns on watch. You stretched and went out into the wild and winding paths.

You climbed the steep incline of and followed the crumbling trail. As you got higher, it got colder but you hardly felt it as adrenaline surged in your approach. You ducked down as you walked along a crooked ledge and hopped off to hide behind a tall stone outshoot.

You looked down at the monstrous gates of the compound. You laid flat as James fixed the scope on his rifle and peered through the lens. He bit his lip as he adjusted his sights before he pulled his eye away.

“I can get the guards but we have to be quick after.” He nodded behind you, “down there. Quick. Gun out and ready. I’ll be right behind you.”

“We can do this, James.”

He lined up his gun again and inhaled. He took his first shot, the noise muffled by the long silencer. Several others followed before he stood quickly and hung the gun from his shoulder. He pulled you up and you ran to the decline that led between the sharp walls of the mountain.

He was a few steps back as you made you way down the treacherous natural steps and slid down the last few. You slipped to your knees as voices sounded from the gates and James fired again.

You got up as he latched onto your elbow and continued forward. He reached to his belt and unhooked a grenade, throwing it at the gates as you ran behind him. You hung back as the metal gates shook with the blast and he directed you forward with two fingers.

As you reached the rent in the doors, he stopped and took two more shots. Men fell into the cold dirt and you raised your gun to take your first. You remembered all those hours of training though you never truly knew how useful they would be. It was always a precaution, always a what if, now it was your life or death.

You pulled the trigger and another man crumpled. You kept close to James and picked off the last few men outside the installation. A sudden siren began to whine as you neared the open doors and you could guess that one of the guards had fled inside to warn all those within.

James directed you inside and as you made your way down the corridor, you stopped at the end and listened. You couldn’t think of the hammering of your heart or the thought of the death at you fingertips. You could only think; left or right.

“We need to separate,” you said.

“No, you can’t--”

“This place is too big, I’ll slow you down and you’ll slow me,” you insisted, “I’ll go right.”

“No, we have to--”

“You showed me, James. I know what to do. I know what we need. We have our rendezvous. We know what happens if we do not get there.”

He shook his head and sighed. You heard footsteps.

“We have to go,” you said and before he could argue further, you raised your gun and ran around the corner.

The first man hit the wall after the bullet entered his chest, the second fell over him with your next shot, and the third slumped against the next corner. You heard James’ boots and his own shots as they flew in the other direction. You pressed on and reloaded before you took the next turn.

Your pulse filled your ears and kept you going. Everything felt so clear, so visible, so loud. You saw and heard it all. It was almost as if you knew what would happen before it did. You’d never felt this level of clarity.

You went deeper into the maze, bodies littered in your stead as others fled, those in white jackets, those like the men who’d tortured you. You followed them, they would lead you to what you needed.

A man surprised you as he lunged from a doorway. He slammed you into the wall and your gun fired into the ceiling. You kicked him and he grunted and you grabbed his arm as his hand stretched over your throat. Without pause, without thought, you twisted his arm and he screamed in agony as both his wrist and elbow snapped.

You shoved him away and finished the work with a bullet. You stared at his arm as the shock sunk in. How could you have done all that? It hadn’t felt like anything at all, like bending a toothpick.

You didn’t have time to linger as another appeared and you fired again. Warm blood spattered your front as your legs kept pushing through. You came to a large room but bullets preceded you. 

You peeked inside, James was already there. A flurry of men were engaged with him, those in camouflage and those in white. You downed two men before your gun was kicked from your hands. You grunted and ducked under a punch you didn’t even see was coming, you just knew. You reached to your belt and freed the long hunting knife.

The blade tore through the man's flesh like water. The sickly glide of the metal sickened you and the flood of warmth down our arm churned your stomach. You couldn’t stop, even as your fear rose, even as you realised the destruction you wrought.

Another man, this one broken by a kick that sent him into the wall. Your strength startled even you. You heard James and looked around. He was on his back, barely kicking away his attackers as he aimed desperately with his pistol. 

You broke through the wall of man, shoving them to the side so that they flew back into the machinery all around. You threw your knife at a man as he aimed at James and you wrenched back another and twisted his neck until it cracked. The third you broke over your knee.

You rolled away from them and freed the gun at your chest; one, two, three, four. They all fell dead at the pull of your trigger. James stared at you and sat up. He raised his gun as your own was too slow and you felt an arm around your neck, the pointed tip against your chin.

“Don’t,” the man warned as his white sleeve scratched at your throat, “she dies.”

James kept his aim steady as he got to his feet. The man choked you and pulled you a step back.

“Drop the gun,” he ordered in Russian. You gulped and tossed it down as the metal cut into your flesh just a little, “ah, always thought you would be back. Always expected it.”

“Let her go,” James said, “you can’t--”

“That is the problem, you see? The human emotion dampens the serum. We don’t need the mind, only the body--”

You were quick. You slid your hand up under the knife and fell to your knees, taking the man with you as the blade dug into your fingers. The shot knocked him off of you entirely and the knife fell free, your blood pouring down your hand. You sat back on your heels and reached for your gun with your uninjured hand.

“We get the files and get out,” James helped you up, “more will be coming.”

He drew you past the corpses and began to search the desk and cabinets. He took a black folder and you helped break open several of the computers to remove their hard drives. He packed it all into the compact pack on your back and zipped it up.

He shot past your head as more soldiers appeared. He nudged you forward and yelled, “come on.”

You raced away from the east wing and barrelled down the winding corridors, following the trail of bodies left by your entrance. You added several more to the floor until you reached the front door. Gunfire followed your departure, met only in defensive retreat.

You carried on past the gate and into the rocky impasse. A sudden blast shook the ground and James caught your arm and urged you on. You didn’t look back as the shots faded into thundering booms and bangs.

You kept on until you couldn’t hear the carnage, until it was silent but for the whistling of the mountain air, until the adrenaline was gone and your hand seared with pain, the rest of the unnoticed aches rising to the surface. 

James stopped you and pulled you into a dark cave. He fished out his flashlight and little up the stony walls as he led you further inside. He pushed his head back and took a breath and he let the flashlight rest on its side and cast a plume over the dark space.

“We have to bandage your hand before we press on,” he said, “we get to the bottom at nightfall and keep going.”

“What was that?” you asked as he pulled out his aid kit from his pocket.

“My orders were to burn that place to the ground,” he said, “lucky the blast didn’t take the whole mountain down.”

He took your hand and wiped your fingers clean before he wrapped them in gauze. You were silent throughout as your heart slowed and you had a moment to think.

“James, what--” you blinked and looked down as he moved around you to unzip your bag, “I’m not mad. What was that?”

“No, you’re not,” he said as he pulled the folder out of the bag and went back around you, “it’s why we need to burn these.”

“What is it?” you asked.

He handed it over silently and retrieved his flashlight. He held it over the folder as you opened it. Your picture was at the front of the pile of papers, several signed by Ilyich, detailing the progression of your pregnancy. There were several explaining how the growth of the enhanced fetus affected the carrier. How the serum seemed to have molded with the DNA of the subject.

You looked up at James and frowned. It couldn’t be. 

“You never noticed before and I never wanted to make you,” he admitted, “I thought you would hate to be like me and that would be just another thing I did to you.”

“James…”

“I know, it was the soldier but it still feels like me,” he took the folder from you and closed it. “So I will keep you from one misery in this life. We destroy this now and when we reach the rendezvous, I delete any of that from those hard drives.”

“What do you--”

“We’re going back to Luka,” he said, “they can’t know because they will want to know more. They will want to try it again. Doesn’t matter if it’s Hydra or Stark.”

You nodded and he dug out his lighter. He lit the first page and watched it wilt into ash. You sat on a flat rock and rubbed your gloved hands together. You watched him burn the file a sheet at a time.

“I was reading about Canada. There was a program on the TV Luka was watching,” you said as added the last page and he stood, “what do you think? A nice little house for us. I hear it snows there. I love the snow.”

He clapped off his hands and reached for you. He drew you up and zipped your jacket up to your chin. He framed your face and smiled down at you in the glow of the flashlight hooked on his hip, “If you’ll be there, it sounds wonderful.”

✰✰✰

END

Thank you again for all your patience and support with this series. I’m sad but happy to be done. Let’s all imagine Luka getting to sled with Bucky up in the Great North and be at peace.

[bitchassbucky]

Ｂａｃｋ Ｔｏ Ｙｏｕ (Ｓａｍ Ｗｉｌｓｏｎ ｘ Ｆ!Ｒｅａｄｅｒ)

📎Word Count: 1.5k

📎Warning/s: some heckin’ words. Bucky’s in this, he’s a bit annoying (affectionately) <3 MINORS DNI.

📎A/N: omg my first Sam fic! i wanna thank my boo @babyboibucky for enabling me hsakjdhak ily! this is for you, bee!

📎Masterlist || Ask || AFTERDARK

📎 Follow the story: Back To You, Dimples, Inked

“Are you even listening to me?” Bucky says, annoyed that Sam has been looking down on his phone, remotely giving attention to their conversation.

Sam grins, fingers dancing over the keyboard on the screen, “Yeah, yeah. Something about motel rooms—or beds.”

“I said that they gave us two beds in one room,” the former spots their door number, quickly walking to it. The tactical bag swinging over his cybernetic arm freely.

The night was warm, the air blew the ocean mist towards the town. The parking lot is empty save for a black sedan that’s already been through a lot. They chose to stay low instead of getting a room at a decent hotel close by–something about them not likening the crowd.

Once inside, both men cleared the room in 30 seconds flat. The window opens out, the door stays closed and locked. The TV has to be on but kept on low volume. The beds are made, it’s clean; beats the flat beds on the plane.

Sam throws his bag over to the bed closest to the window, calling dibs. “Hey, you got headphones?” He asks.

“No,” Bucky answers, settling his things below the foot of the bed, “why?” He catches Sam again smiling giddily over something, “what you got a girl there or something?” 

“It’s none of your business,” Sam retorts, quirking his eyebrow upwards, “well? Do you have headphones?”

“If you listened to me, you would’ve heard me say ‘no.’”

Bucky should’ve had brought headphones. Sam has been droning on and on with a ‘friend’ over on a video call.

Not that he’s eavesdropping and nosy but he saw how Sam lit up when a voice came in from his phone.

“Hey, Sammy! I finally get to see your face.” You say, your voice crackling over Sam’s speakers, “am I on speaker right now?”

Sam smiles, focusing on your background and seeing pictures and posters plastered on the wall, “oh, yeah. Sorry, I forgot my earphones somewhere.”

“What? Old man Barnes rubbing off on you?” You laugh, your glasses reflecting your laptop’s screen. Your joke sending Sam into a laughing fit.

“You know he’s in the room, right?” Sam clarifies as he turns the camera to Bucky, much to the former’s dismay. But despite himself, Bucky waves to the camera.

“Heard a lot about you, Barnes! Hope you’re ready for frequent bathroom trips from this one.”

Sam faces you again, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes, “Shut up or I’m gonna drop the call.”

You quickly send him an emoji via text, Sam rolling his eyes as you giggle. “Anyway, since you can’t join in on the fun, you’ll be my audience tonight.”

Sam gives you a confused look, a hint of crease appearing between his brows. “Tonight? What’s tonight?”

A fake gasp and an overdramatic show of hurt had him chuckling, “You already forgot the karaoke night you promised me, didn’t you?”

He grins apologetically and looks at the camera, as if looking into your eyes, “I’m sorry. Been busy these past few weeks.”

You smile softly, the imagery giving Sam a burst of butterflies in his tummy, “it’s okay. I was just being dramatic. I got that from you, you know.”

You are not a good singer. But you confidently belt out the highest of notes like one. Complete with hand gestures, you hold out the last note of the song.

“Thank you,” you bow down to your imaginary crowd off-camera, “I’ll be here all night.”

“On god, please don’t,” Sam interjects with a tender smile and soft eyes.

“Sammy!” Your eyes glazing over your screen, a deep pang of homesickness hitting you, “I missed this. I missed you.”

He nods, his lips pressed tightly as he tries to find the words to respond, “I missed you too, bub.” 

A soft note of a love song sounds over your speaker, traveling to his, “you love this song.”

Sam nods, reminiscing the moments he had with you during college. The one time you almost kissed—where are these memories and feelings coming from?! “Yeah, and---”

The doorbell rings on your end. Your eyes glinting as you stand up. Food delivery!

“Hold that thought, Sammy. My food’s here,” you say, your voice faint as you’re practically halfway through the door.

“She is a god-awful singer,” Bucky expresses, “but you love her, don’t you?”

“What?” Sam quickly taps a button on his screen—stupid Bucky and his stupid mouth. He covers his phone’s mouthpiece as if that could help, “shut the hell up.”

Sam’s changed demeanor confirms Bucky’s growing suspicion, “so you do love her!”

The latter glances at the empty screen, hoping you didn’t hear anything. Or maybe, he does?

The only sign of life from your end is the sound of various utensils cluttering and a metal bowl falling to the floor, making both men wince at the sudden noise.

Sam lowers the volume of his phone, facing Bucky from their respective beds.

“Shit,” Sam exclaims, running a hand over his handsome face, “maybe I do.”

This time, he finally lets himself go through the memories you made together before he left for the military.

The coffee dates, the late-night calls, the breakfast hangouts, the study sessions. You light up even the most boring of things. The texture of your skin, the sound of your laugh, the twinkle in your eyes bring Sam into a warm place.

You make him feel enough. You see him through and through.

Oh shit, he is in love with you.

Bucky just looks at him, boring holes in his face, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “You really just realized, just now?” Sam’s not sure if it’s a rhetorical question.

“The way you talk about her. The way you talk to her. You see her and the things she like everywhere we go and you realize it just now?” So, it is a rhetorical question.

The revelation leaves Sam amused but unable to form words, “I… Do–I do love her. I’m in love with my best friend.”

A silent beat drops in the room—save for the faint hello? coming from Sam’s phone.

Ah, fuck.

Bucky put on his jacket planning to head out (to the motel’s ice machine) to give you two privacy. He bids Sam good luck and you a good night before walking towards the door.

As soon as the door shuts, Sam increases the volume on his phone again.

“Sam?” You call out, “I can’t see you, your cam’s off.”

In panic, he realizes that he tapped the wrong button—maybe Old Man Barnes had rubbed off on him.

You smile and sat up a little bit straighter when his face lights up your screen again.

“So… how much did you hear about the whole thing?” Sam wants to tread carefully around the subject, the first time he feels uncomfortable opening up to you.

He fully expects you to dismiss the topic, turn in for the night, and leave him lamenting about his feelings. And he’s somehow okay with it.

“Kinda, everything.” You confess, there’s nothing holding you back now, “I, you know-- I’m glad you got ‘round it. Even if it took you years.”

Another pin drops inside Sam’s head, “what do you mean?”

“Look, I confessed to you before we graduated but you never acknowledged it. So, I never brought it up again.” Even miles apart, Sam’s presence was around you. The bracelet he gave you during junior year, his favorite mug you borrowed from him, a ton of his shirts and hoodies that he gave to you before moving out after graduation. 

“You confessed to me? When?” Sam racks his brain for the smallest of details, for the quietest of whispers.

“I wrote you a letter. Remember? I slipped it under your door after finals week.”

After all these years, Sam never quite found out who wrote him that letter, “you never signed it.”

Sam didn’t expect you to laugh, to double over such a serious conversation, “dude, I did, I signed it. Why would I send you a deep proclamation of love without signing it?”

“It was written on pink paper, right? I still have it. You wanna bet that you don’t have your name on it?”

Your eyes widen in embarrassment, heat creeping up your cheeks, “oh my god, are you serious? I didn’t sign it?”

Sam laughs softly, his eyes crinkling the same way. There are lines decorating his eyes but he was still your Sam.

“No, ma’am.” He declares, the air somehow lighter now, “if you did, I would’ve said something.”

A hum escapes your lips, curling into a gentle smile, “good to know.”

The comfortable silence envelops the room, years of yearning and pining finally coming to end.

“Hey, after this mission - I was thinking if you want to go out. Catch up and you know, finally, talk in person.” Sam asks, there’s still a tiny voice inside his head not believing the talk that had transpired.

“I’d love that, Sam.”

The sentiment crashes and closes in on itself as Bucky barges into the room, holding a bucket of ice in one hand and a pack of beer in the other, “congratulations, idiots.”

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Let Chaos Reign

Chapter 3- Don’t Provoke The Bear

Summary: After getting your shit rocked by the Avengers, you now wake up in a strange new place even more pissed off then you already were. Also that one pretty looking dark haired guy won’t leave you alone.

Warning: reader being chaotic, Bucky trying his best

Masterlist - Chapter 2

Eyes still closed you can feel a soft pressure holding you up, slowly parting your eyelids, you’re soon greeted by the sight of bright lights circling you overhead, though they remain unmoving. On further inspection, once you force yourself into a seated position, you take notice that you’re in some kind of flat spherical glass holding cell.

Blinking groggily, you look down to find your clothes are all still on your body, suddenly a pang of fear hits you at the thought of your mothers necklace. Reaching for it, you’re relieved to feel it’s still with you. Thanking whoever will listen for that bit of good fortune in this otherwise adverse predicament.

Shifting your gaze back to the current situation of the room, you’re able to see around to some sort of large cavernous lab area with a multitude of that armored man from earlier, though you can tell there is no vital life that stirs within them. Guards maybe? Decoys? You have no idea.

Suddenly your eyes catch movement from the left door, a dark skinned man in black clothing and a single patch over his left eye appears. “Good morning. I’m Director Fury.” He smiles with a friendly nod, arms clasped behind his back while he walks over to you, “Or should I say afternoon?”

Getting off the elevated bed, you wander towards the thick glass keeping you from him, “Where am I?”

Fury nods, “Better question you should be asking is how long you’ve been out for, cause damn, you can sleep.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

He chuckles knowingly, “I almost couldn’t believe it myself when the team told me. But wow, holding back both Vision and Wanda for as long as you did. I’m thoroughly impressed.” He boasts for you, genuinely fascinated by your daring feat.

Right, those two.

You frown, gaze hard set and intimidating, “Where the fuck am I?”

“Well for one, you’ve been out for a whole 15 hours since they found you unconscious but alive after getting blasted by Vision and Wanda. Weren’t sure if you were gonna make it, seems the universe has yet to take you out.”

Pursing your lips together in irritation, you glare through the glass at him, “Well I’m not exactly from here so....doesn’t matter. Tell me what this place is and where the fuck I am!”

He holds up his hands, “Alright no need to get heated.” Before clasping them behind his back as he begins pacing slowly back and forth in front of you, “You’ve created quit the stir since arriving in Ireland. My intelligence first received a message indicating a storm greater then a category four hurricane, which by our standards is pretty damn massive. Soon a fun little video of you throwing some busses around like rag dolls peaked my interest. And give or take a couple days, here you are.”

Giving him a deadpanned stare, you cross your arms, “The mystery of the century. Where am I?”

“Alright fine I won’t leave you in suspense, you’re in New York State. In a very secure and safe facility home to the Avengers. Nice place huh?” He smiles, dark eyes looking elsewhere as he gives a little once over of the room.

“I’m in a cell.”

“Yes. But it’s a clean cell.”

Suddenly you slam your left fist against the thick glass causing him to flinch, “You have no right to hold me here! Release me. Now.” You growl darkly, golden irises appearing to almost glow with your building vexation.

“Can’t do that.”

“Alright then, if that’s how it’s going to be. Then I’ll do it myself.”

A second later he’s genuinely startled as you cock your arm back before slamming it into the clear thick glass. With the power of bending the material and your people’s strength, the glass cracks into a fist sized area. Satisfied with this, you do it again and again before a voice startles you.

[Miss, please refrain from breaking that. Mr. Stark has requested that you stop immediately.]

“Agreed.” Says Fury as he hustles over to the far wall, bringing his arm up to his mouth, he speaks but you can’t tell what he’s saying. What nonsense is he even doing?

Ignoring both of them, you punch the glass a fourth time before the voice interrupts again. [Miss. Please suspend your advances. Mr. Stark is on his way.]

Halting your fist from punching a fifth time, you take a step back and bring yourself to the center. Positioning yourself in a fighters stance, legs slightly bent, arms held about 90 degrees; you thrust them forward causing the metal contraption to creak and whine in protest.

Holding your arms close to your body now, you make two tight fists before violently punching at the air; the metal holding in the glass slams forcefully against the far wall. Destroying a couple of those stoic armored sentinels in the process.

“What the fuck?!” Yelps Fury in surprise as he falls to the floor from the force of the impact, “Hey! You better stay right the fuck over there!” He warns while cowering in the corner, nothing to really threaten you with but his voice. That is until he pulls out a stunted black gun, like the ones you have seen on the Norwegian police. You ignore his threats anyways.

Taking your first steps out of the desolated cell feels almost euphoric, your body embraces how strong and dangerous you feel among this place and what has presented itself to you within her walls. A man and his words, a disembodied voice telling you to stop fighting your way to freedom. Ridiculous, they have no idea who you are.

You take a single step left when the man, Fury, shouts loudly, “Stay right there!” Your eyes find the gun held tightly within his grasp, “I will shoot!”

You don’t care for this shallow warning, there are things in this universe more important then a mortal mans fearful intimidation. Opening up your palm, the gun flies out of his hands while he gasps with a start, eyes wide and panicked as you turn the short nosed barrel towards him. Closing your fist, the gun combusts to nothing more then destroyed metal and hard plastic as it clatters to the floor.

He watches in disbelief as you then turn to your left before taking the first door that reads exit above it; you wander past a long hallway until you come across a door leading to a long flight of stairs to some floor with a sign reading - Parking Area - the door is obviously closed.

This is too easy, you think suspiciously, somethings not right.

Opening up the door, you’re greeted by a large cavernous glass and metal room holding a large black aircraft on the far end, a couple more vehicles parked in various areas spread about the place. And not a soul in sight.

Hustling along into the room, you’re able to reach the door on the other side, opening it, you cautiously stick your head out. Ahead of you is a large green yard stretching all the way back to a tree line with trees placed neatly along a road leading up to the facilities main entrance area.

To your far left is a large river, but still, you have no idea where New York is. This is all unfamiliar territory to you, so finding the Ancient One is going to be a tough fucking job.

Not seeing anyone, you take your first couple steps into the open. Soon you’ve made it halfway across the grass headed for the tree line before the sound of gravel crunching causes you to pause and turn around to face the intruder.

So close. The woods are right there.

Clenching your fists, you keep a defensive stance as you stare him down, this man is undoubtedly familiar. He’s dressed in boots, jeans, a pair of cloves for some reason, and a faded grey t-shirt that’s mostly covered by his forest green jacket, while his long dark hair is washed and sits handsomely around his face. Blue eyes staring at you apprehensively, “We’re not here to harm you.” Cautiously says the man in a soft tone of voice, hoping not to provoke you again.

“Then why was I just locked in a cell?”

He pauses for a moment, “Uh, okay, yeah that looks bad.”

“Precisely.

You turn to leave, yet his voice makes you stay, “You don’t have to be on your own you know. I don’t know what you’re looking for, or who....but doing it alone will only take longer. We could help you, if you want.” He suggests with the tiniest hint of a smile. You don’t trust him.

You look towards the lake before finding his gaze yet again, your golden eyes admittedly sadder as you softly answer him, “No one can help me.”

He takes a step forward, face softening, “I felt the same way once. Alone and confused, not sure where to go, no one to trust. Believe me, it sucked......so, I’m just hoping you’ll listen. That’s it.”

“Well, I don’t particularly like any of you. And so far you’ve all gotten in my way and fought me....I have no reason to trust a thing you say.”

He purses his lips together and nods, you’ve got him there, but nonetheless he takes another step forward, “Sorry about that.” He mutters while rubbing the back of his neck, “Uh, let me try and start over....I’m Bucky. And I am definitely not here to fight you. Promise.”

Eyeing him up suspiciously, you take a step back, “Y/N Lavpranthus..of Vanaheim.” You finally reveal, albeit with a smidge of apprehension, however you are not one to hold back your own name if someone is to speak freely theirs.

Bucky nods, incredibly grateful for your calm demeanor for the moment and this first bout of information given willingly by you, though he has not a single clue where Vanaheim is, this is progress. Good progress; perhaps the team was right to send him out first as their guinea pig against the big bad wolf.

Stupid in retrospect, but so far it’s appeared an effective strategy instead of Tony’s idea which was to have Vision and Wanda knock you out again. Not an efficient way to make friends who can throw busses around like its nothing but a bag of grapes...and all without even touching them.

Bucky reveals the flash of a smile as you slowly calm your once defensive stance, though you’re still wary of his true intentions, “Y/N.” Repeats Bucky with a genuine grin as he tests out your name on his tongue, “Never heard that one before, it’s beautiful.

Taken aback by his kindness and sincere compliment to your name, you finally let your guard down, “My mother gave that to me, it was her sisters name, though she died before I met her. Guess it doesn’t matter now...” He frowns as you share a dismal look with the ground, remembering the events that brought you here in the first place. 

Family.

Soon your anger rises once more as you think of your brother, that conniving piece of shit, “Bucky....I-I can’t stay here. I have to go, you wouldn’t understand. And I don’t want you to be involved....fuck....he probably already has scouts hunting for me.”

Bucky’s brows furrow in confusion, who would you be talking about he has no idea, “Y/N, no one could hurt you here, alright. This place is pretty damn guarded. I mean, we are the Avengers.”

Shaking your head you take a step backwards, “No, none of you understand how dangerous he is, I’m lucky he didn’t kill me when he had the chance.”

“Who tried to kill you?”

Finding his worried gaze once more, you back closer towards the woods, a knowingly loathsome look crossing your features as you frown, “My brother.” And with that do you make a swift exit into the trees, out of sight in an instant.

Bucky takes a hasty step forward before looking back at the base where all of the Avengers are watching from the windows, they collectively make a go-get-her motion with their hands, indicating that Y/N is now his problem.

Fantastic, he thinks sarcastically, half the team can fly and I’m going after a demigod with family problems.

——

Jumping over fallen trees and ragged roots alike, you’re swifter then a young leopard under the treetops, it’s admittedly incredibly freeing that you almost get lost in the rush of it all as your boots pound against the leafy ground.

Arms pumping you quickly along while you run deeper into the woods, you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so free, though your fun soon comes to an abrupt halt when something hard latches onto both of your legs, instantly you begin falling towards the quickly approaching earth.

With lightening reflexes, your hands are thrusted outwards while you emit a blast of air that saves you from suffering brain damage or a bruised face. The wind aids your body in stabilizing itself once again; now standing with your lower legs tied collectively by some metal clasp, you quickly clap your hands together before focusing your release.

The metal clamps rip apart from off of your legs, freeing you in an instant, “What the fuck was that about?” You mutter to yourself when what would you know it, there’s Bucky standing not even twenty feet from you, an apologetic look on his annoyingly handsome face.

He raises his gloved hands into the air, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how else to stop you...”

Shaking your head in disappointment, you take a step in his direction, “Bucky, you’re going to really wish you didn’t just do that.”

“Uh.” Is all he’s able to mutter before you send him flying backwards with the force of a small windstorm, you watch in amusement as he breaks some branches on his way to the ground.

“You really don’t like following orders now do you?” He hears you chuckle, “I like that. You’ve got a brave heart I’ll admit.” He watches as you walk into view, a knowing smirk adorning your beautiful otherworldly features, “Courage, it’s good. Even after what I did to you a couple days ago, you still came to speak with me when no one else dared, it’s valiant. You would be a noble warrior in my homeland.”

Bucky could have blushed if not for the stick poking uncomfortably into his back, “Thanks....you seem like...uh....an experienced...woman.” Mutters Bucky, mentally cringing at how unbelievably stupid that just sounded in comparison with how gloriously divine you are.

You snort, “Easy on the eyes and a skilled fighter. Guess conversation is too adept for even the likes of you.”

Bucky shows you a cheeky grin as he jumps to his feet, “Well....uh...you don’t really know me that well yet.”

You laugh at his weak flirting skills, “Too bad I’ve got elsewhere to be. I bet you’re fine company.”

“Right...right, yeah...” Mumbles Bucky with a nod, not really confident he’s gonna be able to sway you completely to his side, he just needs you to come back with him to the base. That’s it, well, in a calmly manner. “Uh...do you even know where you are?”

You open your mouth to speak but pause as you actually have not a single clue where you really are, brows furrowed you answer, “Upstate New York.” Your accent dripping strong with a tinge of uncertainty that greatly annoys you.

Bucky smiles, “Do you know where that is?”

“Well.....not completely but I’m willing to find out, elsewhere. I don’t need help, believe me.”

Bucky throws his hands up, “I believe you. It’s just....I don’t think you’re gonna find your brother without a little guidance here...”

“Don’t patronize me!” You snap angrily, eyes practically glowing gold as you fill with irritation; he’s trying to distract you from your goal, you don’t need any help from anyone. Your brother would never dare ask for such a thing if he was in your place, he probably would have killed this man in the facility yard without a second thought. “You’re all just prying little bastards, I have no business with any of you when my personal quandary is concerned!”

Clearly noticing he’s struck some kind of nerve, and remembering he’s been tasked with gathering as much information about you as possible while striving for the end goal of a truce. Bucky stupidly pressures you further, “Your brother can’t be that terrible, I mean.....what did he do?” Asks Bucky with a casual shrug, a sudden pang of fear flashing through his eyes as you send him a nasty glare.

You don’t even give him a moment to react before his forest green jacket is ablaze from your quick thrust of flame out of your fist, Bucky instantly yelps in surprise before swiftly throwing the burning fabric off of him before he catches fire himself. The jacket falls to a flaming heap on the forest floor, “What the hell?!” Yells Bucky, eyes wide at your incredibly abrupt act of hostility.

Whoosh!

And Bucky’s flat on his back with you right on top of him, kneeling down to meet his startled gaze, his breath hitches as you forcefully grab his stubbled jaw. Your eyes two golden coins of tempered rage, “You have no idea what he has done to me or my realm, you’re lucky I’m not like him or you’d be a burnt corpse adding to the ash of the universe. Pray you never meet him.” Your lip quivers in angered emotion as you lightly squeeze his jaw, “And if we meet again, I assure you someone will die.”

Bucky keeps still as stone as you finally release him from your admittedly powerful grasp, soon you rise to your full height, giving him one last conflicted look before sauntering off into the bushes.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he had, chest rising heavily as the adrenaline rush of the fire and you touching him brings him back to reality. He’s on the ground in the woods and you’re absolutely no where to be seen. Soon he jumps to his feet and jogs in your direction until he reaches a gravel road leading back to the Avengers Facility.

You’re gone, just like a phantom in the shadows, gone.

Shaking his head in frustration, Bucky treks back to the base where Steve, Tony, and Natasha are waiting for him outside, all equally curious as to what the hell happened.

“Looks like you were unsuccessful, Barnes.” Quips Tony as Bucky throws him a dirty look.

“She’s...just.....complicated.” Mutters the tired Winter Soldier with a frown as they follow him to the front doors.

——

Bucky slouches comfortably into the back of the lounging rooms giant plush couch, a heating pad seated blissfully against his bruised back from all the times you knocked his ass to the ground today. Sam, Tony, Steve, and Natasha seated in various areas around the lounging room as they give him a break to rest.

Though the peace is soon broken by the sound of Tony’s irritating voice, “You at least get a name to hold against that psycho?”

Bucky throws him an annoyed glance, “She’s not a psycho, and her name is Y/N....I can’t remember her last name. It was something Middle Earth-like I don’t know.”

“Y/N?” Repeats Steve, “That’s different.”

Bucky’s face shifts to concentrated puzzlement, “Yeah, I know....it’s just, she said Y/N of Vanaheim or whatever that means....not sure but she’s definitely not from around here.”

“Really? What drew you to that final conclusion.” Jokes Sam as Bucky mutters an incomprehensible fuck off while the Falcon chuckles.

Natasha’s voice suddenly enters the conversation, “So she’s after her brother?”

Bucky nods, “Yep.”

“And doesn’t appear to know her way around this world either?”

“Yep.”

Natasha hums in thought as Sam speaks, “Damn. I wonder what happened to her before she got dumped into our world...”

Bucky suddenly sits up, “It’s just....she said some people are probably already after her, uh....her brothers guardsman I think?”

Steve takes a step forward, eye brows raised in interest, “Guardsmen?”

Tony nods, “Or are these some type of glorified assassins? I’m just putting this out there, but we really need to get this shit under control before she ends up destroying a building next. Or these, whoever is after her, decide to...oh I don’t know...kill some civilians while they’re at it.”

Bucky’s face shifts to puzzlement, “Dammit. It’s kinda my fault she ran off.” They all give him a varying amount of intrigued expressions as he sighs, “I was just trying to get more info out of her and then I talked about her brother and she set my jacket on fire, before throwing me to the ground and roughly grabbing my face to threaten me, she was really mad too.”

Sam smirks, “Did you enjoy it. Getting manhandled by a pretty lady in the woods?”

“Sam.” Mutters Steve like a disappointed father reprimanding his son.

“Come on Buck, it’s okay, you can tell us. Was it nice?”

Bucky throws him a deadly glare, “Actually it was, I felt very loved and comforted.” He quips, voice dripping in sarcasm before a more thoughtful expression crosses his features, “But she didn’t actually hurt me. I don’t know, she almost looked conflicted to leave....I don’t know it happened so fast.” He mumbles, closing his eyes as he falls back into the comfort of the couch.

“Well as much as I’m enjoying this time together with all of you...” Says Natasha, “We now have a person from an unknown world on the loose with incredible power and the means to use it as she wants. We all know where that can lead us.”

“With more collateral damage then what Ultron gave us.” Adds Tony, “Fortunately this time it won’t be my fault...like that makes a big difference I know. Still, she’s the Avengers newest problem now and we don’t have a damn clue where Miss. Anger Management is.”

“Uh, not exactly.” Starts Bucky as they all turn to look at him. Sam raises an intrigued brow, “What do you mean, not exactly?”

“I, well uh-when she was threatening me, well one of the times she was threatening me...I was able to plant a tracker on the inside of her one pocket. Then she pushed me into the grass and ran off into the woods, I couldn’t keep up even if I tried. She was just gone, but at least I was able to do that. It’s something.”

“Barnes.” Says Tony slowly, “And you’re just telling us this now? When we could have been sending some intelligence or agents or even ourselves out to find her.”

“Sorry but I was recovering from getting beaten up by a beautiful demigod to remember so soon,” Sasses Bucky, “but yeah, that aside, she’s got a tracker on her so all I’d need to do is pull it up on my phone and I’m good to go. Well, as long as she hasn’t found it yet.” 

“If it’s just like that, you’re sharing with the rest of the class.” Says Tony while he wanders over to the television mounted upon the wall, “I’m gonna have you link with the tv, I don’t wanna miss a second.”

With a dramatic sigh does the Winter Soldier lean over to grab the thin metal device from off of the coffee table in front of him while Tony flicks on the large tv screen. Once all is set correctly and synched up, the others watch on in curiosity as he scrolls around a bit before finding the app and clicking on it, a couple passwords are sent in and accepted when the screen then shows one option labeled -Unite_1P - between two white bars within a sea of black.

He taps the label and the screen changes to a view of North America resembling that of google maps, but the screen soon shifts to zoom in on a moving pin point in red that’s traveling a couple miles far northeast of the Bronx, where it appears that Y/N happens to be trekking through some forest heading downwards towards that designated part of New York City.

Steve’s eyes trail over the red pin point, “So that’s where Y/N is going?”

“Seems like it. And she hasn’t a damn clue where she’s actually going either.”

Sam keeps his gaze locked onto the map as well, “And what does she want exactly?”

 “She said something about finding her brother but that’s honestly it, I tried to help her but it was almost pointless. She’s on her own mission now, and no ones going to get in her way.”

Steve sighs, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“What?”

“Y/N. Someone getting in her way, someone just trying to lend a hand and she takes it the wrong way and then...”

“I know man, but I don’t think she’d do that to some innocent person. At least I don’t think she would.” Worries Bucky while everyone takes a moment to process and stare at the screen, red pin point still moving slowly towards New York City. The creak of wood is suddenly heard and all five Avengers turn their heads towards the abrupt noise of Director Fury who’s found himself a spot to stand in the large room.

“Unfortunately we don’t know that. And as the worlds mightiest heroes. It’s your collective duty to always assume the worst. She’s strong, has a goal, and appears able to get it if she tries hard enough. It’s admirable, and yes she’s no Loki...but she is a danger to Earth the less we know about her true intentions and the longer she’s out of our reach.” Explains Fury, “Barnes you’ve done incredibly well. But our apparent need for you has increased as well, so I suggest you smack on a band-aid because we’re going to have a nice civil conversation with her whether she wants it or not.”

“Me?”

“Yes you. You’re the only person she hasn’t tried to send a chunk of metal at, you got close, you got the information. We need you to do it again.”

Steve looks to Fury, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. What if she...”

“I’ll do it.....” They all give Bucky a collective array of questionable facial expressions as he shrugs, “What? I think she’ll listen, maybe, okay I’m not one hundred percent sure if Y/N will hear me out. But I gotta try right? She’s conflicted inside, she’s hurt and alone....if I just have a moment, another moment, I think I could get to her. I think she’ll listen.”

Fury smiles as Steve lowers his gaze, “That’s what I like to hear Mr. Barnes. And don’t none of you worry alright. We’ll be close, at a safer distance of course, but close in case anything goes south. Now the day is still young and we have a demigod to find, I assume you all know what to do.”

Steve looks to the array of assembled heroes, “Suite up..well actually...just Bucky.”

The designated man of the hour rolls his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.”

-

Tagged: @buckylokisimp @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender  @a-girl-who-loves-disney @bizarrebibitch @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @jmstz @thehornytitties @staygoldsquatchling02 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @mischiefmanaged71​ @noragracebrewer   @atomicpersonacheesecake  @thescarlettvvitch @shawnartmendes​

[sambvcks]

crawl home to her, b.b. x reader

chapter four // three days on drunken sin

summary: bucky decides to rifle through those boxes and finds the will to make the first move.

warnings: food/eating, nothing too bad this time!

word count: 1.7k

author’s note: how are we feeling about this week’s episode?? we’re getting closer to the start of tfatws with this chapter!! hope i don’t break your heart too much with the boxes :)

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The boxes taunted him for three days.

Three stacks of two boxes each cluttered his entranceway, each with that familiar scrawl of Steve’s God-awful handwriting.

‘BUCKY’

All caps, in black Sharpie, underlined three times just for good measure. Steve was always good at getting his message across.

He didn’t want to know what was in them, he told himself. But Steve was gone, and this was all he had left. These, that stupid notebook he still hadn’t found the will to write in, and the shield that was kicking around Sam’s apartment somewhere.

He wanted to toss them in his building’s dumpster, to push these aside like he did with everything else in his life. Out of sight, out of mind. That week, he didn’t tell his therapist about the boxes, or Sam’s unexpected visit, or his neighbor that he was now avoiding like the plague. Thankfully, she chalked his silence up to Steve and tried to fill in the conversational lulls with suggestions of amends and lists and he just wanted to go back to sleep.

Like always, sleep never came.

He knew the single night in his bed was a fluke, but he kept trying at least. He’d untuck his flat sheet from under hit mattress, fluff his pillow, and tuck himself in. Within five minutes, he was back on the hardwood floor of his living room, the lamplights illuminating his window and casting a perfect shadow on those stupid boxes. Finally, on the third night, he huffed a sigh and sat up, his arm whirring at the sudden movement. He wasn’t accomplishing anything letting them sit and gather dust.

Bucky reached under the cushions of his couch, fishing for the knife he had stashed away and got to work slicing through the clear packing tape securing each one.

The first five boxes were files. Mission reports, everything Steve could get his hands on about The Winter Soldier. The translations were rough, the descriptions weren’t as vivid as he remembered them now, and it wasn’t even close to everything. Why Steve kept them when Bucky was working to erase every trace of this from the universe, he would never understand. Steve was sentimental, even with the bad stuff. Bucky glanced over the files scattered across his entranceway, which maybe amounted to a year of his missions. If Zemo had looked in some suburb in upstate New York, he would have found everything he needed.

The dumpster behind his building was starting to feel more and more enticing.

The last box felt different. Significantly lighter and smaller, the items rolling and clanking as he dragged it towards him. He braced himself for more files, more reminders of what he had done as though they didn’t exist in his mind every second of the day.

The first thing he recognized was his mother’s handwriting. ‘Recipes’, scrawled so perfectly on a yellowing label.

The tin box was tinted with age, dented after so many years. He laughed and could remember it tucked away on the top shelf of the cabinet by the fridge, just out of Rebecca’s reach, even when she’d stand on her tiptoes in search of it. His Ma rarely fished it out, other than to let his little sister read over the ingredients with sticky hands as she helped stir pots and peel potatoes. She had them memorized by the time she was a teenager, having transcribed her own mother’s recipes onto these little cards. He was sure Rebecca did, too.

Next was the worn fabric of his Ma’s favorite apron. Yellow embroidered flowers scattered the crimped edge, strings falling loose. He recognized some of the stains, from spaghetti night and cake batter that she let dry on the cloth for too long.

Finally, a worn silver chain was buried at the bottom of the box.

JAMES B BARNES 32557038 T42 A

Of course, Steve with all his connections and know-it-all attitude and ‘I can do this all day’ would find some way to find his dog tags, probably tucked away in some ancient Hydra file. His flesh fingers ran over the indentation of his name, pressed into metal like millions of other boys had, off to fight a war that had nothing to do with them. Everything to lose, nothing to gain.

When he was most alone, settled into muddy trenches with wet socks and a stiff military jacket, he would recite those numbers out into the night sky. He’d map constellations over his head, wondering if it would be his last night and all there would be left of him would be those stupid discs of metal clanking around his neck and the letter tucked away in his jacket breast pocket, addressed to his mother.

His mother was long gone, he knew that. But to a fully conscious James Buchanan Barnes – not the Winter Soldier - he had only seen her a few years ago when he shipped off.

After a moment, he pulled the chain of his dog tags over his head, settling them under his shirt. His ears rung with the sound of footsteps in the hallway. The sound of dragging feet and the jangle of your keychain signaled your return from class.

His family was gone, Steve included. The only people he has left are halfway across the world, or off on some death-defying mission wearing metal bird wings. Except you, who still leaves bags of cookies on his front door mat, despite the silent treatment from his end. His maybe too friendly neighbor who poured over lists of albums for him to find taped to his door in barely legible handwriting when you should have been studying.

His mother’s recipe box was calling his name.

-

The knock on your door startled you from your nap. Well, if you can call dozing off at your desk using a law book as a makeshift pillow a nap. You stalled in your desk chair, eyes bleary as you squinted at your front door, then at the top corner of your computer.

2:36 AM

You nuzzled back into your book, content to chalk it up to your sleep deprived brain making things up.

The second knock was much more insistent and was certainly coming from your door. You rushed out of your chair, sock-clad feet dragging the blanket draped across your shoulders as you shuffled over, the knocking never ceasing. You blinked the sleep from your eyes, peering out your peephole into the dark hallway.

Bucky, with slumped shoulders and a bowed head, trying with all of his might to make himself as small as possible still took up so much of the doorway with his broad shoulders.

You should be mad at him.

You should go to bed, ignore him like he’d been ignoring you for the past few weeks. Like you hadn’t shared late nights and he hadn’t sat in your kitchen, licking your spoons clean or tucked into your couch just to watch you study, a new record playing gently. Your forehead pressed to the door, vile building in your throat as seething words collected on your tongue.

“I know you’re there.” His voice was muffled through the wooden door, feeling so close but sounding so far away. “We should work on you dragging your feet, doll.”

If you had taken another peek, you would have seen him pressing his forehead to the other side.

“You ignored me, Bucky.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere, even through the door. “Some family stuff came up. But it’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

It’s so stupid, letting yourself get so attached to the first guy to bat his eyelashes and read to you. It’s idiotic to want him to seep into your days and nights, to never leave like he had left you, after only knowing each other for a month.

It’s so foolish to open the door. But you do it anyways.

He swallows as he stands straight, and the widening of his eyes tells you that he wasn’t expecting you to give him a second chance.

“I, uh, here. Thought I’d finally return the favor.”” Bucky shoves forward a plate of cookies, misshapen and unevenly cooked. His eyes finally found yours. “My mom’s recipe.”

Family stuff, you remembered. The weight of the plate felt heavy in your hands, almost as heavy as his gaze on you as you lifted one of the lesser burnt cookies to your mouth and took a timid bite.

Bucky, you’ve come to learn, gives his love in silent acts of approval. He shines when you tell him his singing isn’t totally awful or that he makes a great sous chef, eyes crinkling when you approve of his music choice for the night or compliment the voices he picks when reading from his books. As he watched you, you felt that this cookie meant more to him then just flour and eggs.

He was reaching out, terrified of your rejection.

“You made these?”

“Alright, I’m not totally helpless.”

“They’re amazing, Bucky. Your mom should be proud.”

He returned your smile, knowing that she wouldn’t be. How could she, after all that his hands have done? Hands that should’ve been home, hoisting his sisters onto his shoulders. Hands that should have been helping set the table and at work so they had something to eat in the first place.

He looked so timid in your hallway, unsure of the next move. You rolled your eyes, moving to clear your doorway, despite his hesitation.

“Come on.” You spoke, like ushering in a stray cat with the promise of food and love.

He took the first step forward, shoulder to shoulder, head tilted down to catch your playful gaze with his serious one. Your mouth opened to make some sort of quip to ease the tension, but the words died in your throat as he pressed his forehead against yours for just a second.

His eyes closed as he drew in a single serene breath through his nose.

He was gone as quickly as he had come, moving further into your apartment and directly to your shelves of records, gloved fingers grazing over the sleeves in contemplation for his first choice of the night. As you finally collected yourself enough to close the door, you wondered how many people in the world had ever loved Bucky Barnes enough to give him a second chance.

taglist: @tisthedamninez @wcndamaxcmoff @freyagallileaevans @bibliophilewednesday @justtoreblogfics @teti-menchon0604 @l-adysansa @heart-eyes-horan @thiswasnevermylifefromtony @rexorangecouny @dilfvision @urafakebetch @comphersjost @am-tired-bois @spid3rgwen @beautyandthebleh @euphoricaaaa @inadquacy @mackycat11 @withyoutilltheendofthismess @motherofallthesmallthings @victoriabaker112213 @macrillez @stvalentiness @nova10711 @tailsoflightning @okiegirl24 @qhbr2013 @beachbabe925 @weenersoldierr @venusinart @marvel-mistress @orthellqs @phasma-trash @beni-angie @infinitely-yellow @riverlethe1

[justkending]

The Number One Rule. Chapter 20.

Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)

Word Count: 3000+

A/N: Ok this is the last full chapter I have written. I’ve begun on 21, but it’s only about halfway done. I’m hoping to have it done by the Saturday, but no promises... Please be patient with me as I have a rather busy schedule and want to give you the best chapters! I hope you all enjoy this one:)

Chapter Twenty:  

Another two weeks had passed, and today was move in day for Y/N into her new apartment. 

She had got a small little flat in Midtown Manhattan, so she was right in between her mom and Steve and Bucky’s house. Having not really time to get furniture and not really having the money for it just yet, she went ahead and got a furnished apartment, so moving in was easy with only bringing in her bedding, boxes of clothes, and decorations. 

The flat that she got was an open concept studio. The only walled rooms were the bathroom and a single closet at the entryway. Everything else was out in the open with no dividers. 

They had given her a bed, couch, dresser, coffee table, and the dining table was an island in the middle of the kitchen looking out to the living room. She went thrifting during some free time finding a bookshelf and end table for her bed to add to the space. 

Bucky and Steve had taken the weekend off to help her move in the heavy loaded things. Becca was coming later to help with some decorating to liven up the space. 

“Where’s this one going?” Steve asked maneuvering through the doorway. 

“They’re literally labeled, big guy,” Y/N shouted from the bathroom where she was organizing her toiletries. 

“Not this one, Miss. Sass,” Steve countered. 

“Just throw it by a wall somewhere then. I’ll get to it later,” she shouted back. 

Bucky came in shortly after with two smaller boxes topped on each other. 

“Ok, I think that’s it. At least in my car,” he noted, dropping them down in the kitchen.

“All clear in my truck,” Steve added with a huff as he brushed his hands off. 

Y/N came out from the bathroom with her hands on her hips and let out a loud breath. 

“Great. All that’s left is decorating and at least making my bed so I have a place to collapse once exhaustion hits me,” she smiled. “And according to the time,” she looked down at her watch, “that will be about 20 minutes.”

Bucky chuckled before moving over and wrapping an arm around her shoulder and squeezing her body into his side. Which she gladly used him as a wall to cave into. 

“Yeah, 4 hours of moving things from mom’s to here was my workout for the day,” Steve laughed. “Now, I was promised dinner and a drink for my payment of heavy lifting, if I remember correctly.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at her brother who batted his long eyelashes at her waiting for her answer. 

“Fine, I’ll call in for pizza. Anyone know a good spot around here?” she asked breaking away from Bucky for just a quick second to grab her phone before rushing back to hold onto him once again. The quick movement made Bucky laugh at how needy she was being for his touch. 

He wasn’t complaining though. Now that Steve knew about them, the simple touches (they were being nice and not being as touchy as they’d like for Steve’s comfort. He was still getting used to it) meant all the world now they can embrace it instead of hide it. 

“There’s Angelo’s and Joe’s. Both mouth watering New York Pies,” Bucky answered, as he wrapped his other arm around her holding her into his side more. She snuggled into his chest as she typed away on her phone for the menus.

“Any preference, Stevie?” she asked. 

“I’m feeling Joe’s. While you order that, I’ll go to the corner store for some beers. Want anything specific?” he asked standing up rolling back his shoulders in a stretch before grabbing his keys. 

“You know the answer to that,” she said, sending a raised eyebrow from behind Bucky’s arm. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get the Rose,” he waved off moving to the door. “Buck? Anything special.”

“I’m good with whatever.”

“ ‘kay. Be back in a minute.”

Steve walked out the door and instantly Y/N fell back onto her bed with a bounce. 

“You’re really that tired?” Bucky laughed looking at her stilled self. 

“I’ve been packing way before you guys got there to put everything in your cars,” she answered with her eyes closed. 

“Did you sleep last night?” When he didn’t get a response and she just moved her arm over her eyes, he knew the answer. “You waited until the last minute to pack everything up, didn’t you?”

“Not everything… Just my entire bedroom…” she said, peeking an eye out with a small smile. 

Bucky chuckled before falling down next to her. Both of them looked up to stare up at the high exposed ceilings. 

“I did my bathroom the day before,” she noted. 

“What else do you have left to do to make this feel like your home?” he asked, turning his head to her. 

“Eh, I’ll go thrifting with Becca tomorrow probably and find decorations here and there. But considering this place is maybe just two of my bedrooms at mom’s house, I won’t need much,” she shrugged looking at him. “Definitely need to get a plant or two… Or five.”

Bucky shook his head with a grin before moving to envelope her again and pull her into his chest. 

“I feel like everytime I’m going to come over, you’re going to have a new plant.”

“Well…”

“Am I wrong?” 

“No.” 

“You’re a dork,” he laughed, kissing the crown of her head.

“Hey! Plants purify your air and bring joy to my heart. It’s scientifically proven,” she pouted, pulling away enough to see his face. 

“I didn’t know you were part of a science experiment,” he played on. “Would make sense for a lot of things…”

“You little-,” she shoved him away before jumping off the bed and moving to the kitchen. 

“Hey, I’m kidding. I’m kidding,” he laughed slowly chasing after her. “To an extent.”

“Don’t talk to me,” she huffed, going back to her phone to order the pizza. The little pout of her bottom lip just made her all the more cute instead of intimidating though. 

He rolled his eyes as he moved to stand behind her trapping her in her position by the island. His arms holding the counter top on both sides of her body.

“That won’t last long…” he whispered in her ear in just the right voice to make her shiver. 

But she didn’t give in, no matter how bad she wanted to. Two can play this little game. She hit the call button and turned around looking at him. 

Just as she opened her mouth to talk, making it a show and making him think she was about to say something to him, she brought her phone to her ear and answered.

“Hi, I was wanting to place a delivery order,” she said fluttering her eyelashes at Bucky before ducking under his arms and walking away. “Yes, I’m going to do a large pepperoni and a large margarita pizza.” She continued as she aimlessly walked around the flat. 

Bucky shook his head watching her. Before he had the chance to do anything further… Becca came in with a loud huff. 

“Good God. Y/N, you have a hot neighbor!” she shouted and the two turned to her. Bucky with furrowed eyebrows and Y/N with a look showing she was on the phone. “Oop, sorry,” she shrugged with a whisper as she walked to Bucky with a brown paper bag. 

“Hot neighbor?” Bucky asked. 

“Yeah, right next door. I might have to hop on that…” she winked as she started emptying the bag. Random little snacks and bags of candies, probably for their girls night they planned for later that evening. 

“I thought you were dating someone,” Bucky questioned as he grabbed a bag of swedish fish. Becca quickly smacked his hand and sent a warning look. 

“Keep up, Bucky. We stopped dating like a month ago,” she shook her head. 

“Wait, what was his name again? Scotty? Sco-”

“Scott. And yes. We had almost completely different schedules, so it just wasn’t working. Eh, I’m not worried about it. He was a good lay, but I’ll live,” she tilted her head grabbing a bottle of wine and moving to put it up in the fridge. 

“Oh, God. Please don’t tell me about guys you’re sleeping with. I don’t want to hear that,” Bucky squirmed. 

“You’re a child,” she shook her head before turning to Y/N who was walking to the opposite side of the island. “Who was on the phone?”

“Joe. I was ordering some pizza,” she answered. “Sweet guy actually. But what were you talking about when you came in?”

“Oh!” she shouted excited. “You have a hot neighbor!”

“Is that so?” she raised her eyebrows before moving to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. 

“Does that spark an interest in you Y/N/N?” Bucky asked, turning and looking at her with surprise. 

“I’m not talking to you, remember?” she pointed. 

“You just did,” he tilted his head with a sassy smirk. 

Instead of answering, she stuck out her tongue and turned back to Becca. “Elaborate.”

“310D, right to the left of you,” Becca noted. “Longer blonde hair and those damn arms that look like if you wrapped a ribbon around them, it would take a single flex to pop it.”

“Catch a name?” she asked with a laugh. 

“You do realize we’re dating right?” Bucky asked, crossing his arms. 

“No, I didn’t catch it. I was just looking at him before he went into his apartment. I don’t think he even saw me,” Beck continued ignoring her brother. 

“Interesting. You’ll have to figure it out,” she added, taking a swig of water. “Wouldn’t hurt to know the neighbors name.”

“Um, hello…”

“Oh, say less. Don’t have to tell me twice to interact with a perfect specimen of a man,” Becca laughed.

“I feel like I’m invisible,” Bucky mumbled, watching the two start to giggle about whatever telepathic thing they were talking about. 

_________

Steve came back soon after with the drinks, and not even 10 minutes after him, the pizza was delivered. 

They all sat around eating and talking with the limited furniture after Bucky set up the TV, along with Steve yelling at him that it was HDMI 4 not 2. That was a whole fight in itself. 

Steve eventually left around six and Bucky was leaving soon after so the girls could have their first girl night in Y/N’s new apartment. 

That was until Bekah let out a long groan. 

“What?” Y/N asked leaning over for an M&M on the coffee table. 

“One of my classmates just texted me asking about something for an essay I completely forgot I had due. My professor has it due at 8am tomorrow like the crazy person she is,” she sighed, looking at her phone before looking at the couple on the couch she was facing on the floor. “What kind of insane person doesn’t do the midnight deadline? This professor is going to be the death of me.”

“How much of it do you have done?” Bucky asked. 

“That’s the thing,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose. “I completely forgot about it until this text…”

“You haven’t started?” Y/N chuckled, but you could tell she was worried for her friend. 

“No…” Becca replied. “I may or may not have been putting it off and happened to forget it entirely.”

“Let me guess, it’s practically 30% of your grade for the semester?” Y/N said with a raised eyebrow. 

“You know me so well…” she replied with a pathetic smile. “I’m going to have to bail on girls night tonight. Please don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Beck,” Y/N shook her head. “I get it. I just recently got out of that world, so I know how it goes.”

Bucky watched as the two interacted and laughed at his sister like the annoying big brother he was. 

“Go before you fail the class. We can always reschedule,” Y/N waved off. 

“You sure?”

“Positive. Now go. Every second counts,” she said, standing with Becca as they moved to the door. “Stop by the coffee shop on the way out. Espresso is your friend tonight.”

“Yes ma’am,” Becca saluted as she grabbed her things and stepped out of the apartment. “Oh, and next time I come, I’ll make sure to get hot neighbors name,” she added with a wink. 

“That’s your next homework assignment.”

“Oh, that’s one I won’t be putting off.”

After a head shake to her friend, Becca rushed out of the building off to her own place. Y/N shut and locked the door behind her and walked back into the kitchen. 

“Does that mean we get to have a girls night?” Bucky asked with a smirk. 

“Ha Ha, very funny,” she laughed before falling onto the couch and laying her head in his lap looking straight up at him. “But yeah. I’d like some company first night here. It’s a big emptyish kind of space.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice, doll,” he smiled as he started stroking her hair gently. 

“Oh, hey! I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,” she noted, readjusting in her spot to see him better. 

“Should I be worried?” he asked is a teasing manner. 

“No,” she chuckled before grabbing his hand and starting her pattern tracing that he learned she loved to do. It was calming is what she had told him. “It’s about Steve.”

“What about Steve?” Bucky asked as he watched her finger tip glide across his palm in a gentle manner, sending shivers up his arm. She was able to do that everytime. 

“Well, you know my host family I talked about?” He hummed as his answer. “So Peggy was the daughter of the people I was staying with. She was about 4 years older than me and kinda turned into my mentor. Badass woman if I might add.”

“I remember you talking about her. From the stories you had, she seems like she can definitely hold her own,” he laughed. “What does she have to do with Steve?”

“I’m getting there, slowly…” she said, adding a dramatic tone to the conversation. Bucky rolled his eyes playfully as he went back to playing with her hair. “Peggy and I talked about her coming here and staying a while. A week or so. Maybe later. However, that was when we were living together and just mapping out times to meet up again. Now, she’s got a job opportunity here and was wanting to come and stay for a little to scope out if she wants it and is willing to make the move to New York possibly.”

“Sounds like a fun plan,” he nodded. “But I’m still waiting on the Steve part.”

“Patience, B. Patience,” she said squeezing his hand slightly. “It has to do with Steve because I think Peggy would be a great match for him.”

“You want to set up your brother?”

“Yes. And if there is anyone in the world that I can think of that can handle his hard head as well as challenge it, it’s Margaret Elizabeth Carter.”

“You know your brother hates when we set him up on dates,” Bucky made note of. “She better be something else if you think it’s going to work out.”

“Oh, Peggy is the definition of something else,” Y/N smirked still concentrated on the lines on his hand.

“Ok, so when is she coming to town?”

“Not sure yet. She’s still waiting to hear back from the agency that she was talking with on a good date for them both. I mean she can always come visit before that, but travel isn’t cheap, so it would be smarter for her to just come when she also has business to attend to.”

“Valid point.”

“So you think it’s a good idea? You wanna join my team to play matchmaker with Stevie?” she asked with that damn grin that got him every time. He just can’t seem to say no to it.

“As much as your brother hates these kinds of things, you seem pretty set on it. So I’m trusting you know what you’re doing,” he smiled, brushing a thumb on her cheek. 

“When do I not know what I’m doing?” she retorted gleefully. 

“Well, there was that one time at Coney Island that you,-” he started, just in an effort to push her buttons. 

“It was a rhetorical question that should not be answered. That is if you want to stay the night,” she said with an attempt of a threatening face. 

“It’s cute you think you have an intimidating stare,” he replied, now pinching her cheek where his thumb was. 

“I can be intimidating,” she sat up with a pout. 

“Sure you can, Y/N/N,” he nodded with a smug grin. “That face exudes intimidation.”

When she actually set in her deathly stare that Bucky had seen when she was upset, he took a step back from his teasing. 

“Ok, I’m kidding now. I know you can do it,” he said with a daunted face. The glower on her own features immediately dropped at getting the reaction from him she wanted and went back to her cute sweet innocent smile. “It’s kinda scary how easily you can flip that switch…”

“It’s a talent. What can I say?” she shrugged with a wink as she stood up and went to make popcorn. “So what movie are we watching tonight?”

(Tags for this series is closed. If you would like updates, please turn on my notification:)

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@shadowolf993​ @semistablecentenarian​ @hello-i-am-daydreaming​ @jessyballet​  @emmabarnes​ @kmuir1​  @beautifulrare4leafclover​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​  @shawnie--jo​–jo  @asoftie4bucky​ @katiaw2​ @sheeple​ @sznri​ @bxtchboy69​ @taliarosej00​ @bakugouswh0r3​ @stopjustlovethemcu​ @babemendesxz​ @jenniereiji​ @taliarosej00​ @loveyou5everr​ @natdrunk​ @im-a-light-child​ @stucky-my-ship​ @fairykimseok​ @alexfms97​​ @awkwardnesshabitat​​

My Lovelies forever:

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@bellamy-barnes​​

Marvel Tags:

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[tails89]

Buddie*Prompt = Eddie + Fever

Hey there friendo! Thanks so much for the suggestion. Hope you like.

Send me a bingo prompt.

Read on AO3

Eddie pulls his quilt tighter around himself as another shiver rolls through him. He needs to get up for work. He needs to get Chris ready for school, but everything aches, and his limbs feel like they’re weighted with lead.

He’s not surprised that he’s managed to come down with something. Chris had been sick earlier in the week and Eddie had used up most of his personal leave staying home to take care of him. There had been a small part of him that thought that maybe he'd managed to avoid it, but apparently not.

With a soft grunt he manages to swing his legs over the edge of the bed. He just needs a shower, he thinks to himself. A long hot shower will help clear the congestion he can feel building in his chest and help warm him up again. He just needs to make it to the bathroom.

It does help. A little. Eddie feels marginally more human as he makes his way out to the kitchen.

Chris is already there, carefully carrying two bowls across from the cupboards to put them with the box of cereal and milk already on the table.

When he’s done, he sits and waits for his dad to join him.

“Are you sick, Dad?” Chris asks after watching him for a moment. “You look like me when I stayed home from school.”

“I’m okay,” Eddie reassures him, filling both bowls with cereal and reaching for the milk. The idea of eating anything right now makes his stomach churn uncomfortably, but he knows better than to go to work on an empty stomach. “I don’t think I got enough sleep last night.”

It's not quite a lie. Eddie had spent most of the night tossing and turning, his body shifting between too hot and too cold. Chris doesn’t question it though, so Eddie takes a couple of careful mouthfuls of cereal and focuses on keeping it down. Once he’s had something to eat, he can dose himself up enough to get through the day.

After breakfast he sends Chris to his room to finish getting ready for school. With no prying eyes Eddie takes a second to let his head drop into his hands. His skull feels like it’s about three times too small for his brain and everything just aches. He lets himself drift for a moment, gearing himself up to finish getting ready for work.

“You look like shit.”

Head jerking up, Eddie catches Buck leaning in the doorway. He hadn’t even heard the front door open.

“I’m fine, just tired,” Eddie says, waving away Buck’s concern and rising slowly to his feet. For a second the room swims out of focus before everything snaps back into place. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready to go.”

“You’re not seriously thinking about going to work, are you?” Buck asks, concern etched into his face. “You look like you’re about to keel over.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t afford to take more time off,” Eddie says, wincing as the words grate against his throat. “I took all that time off to watch Chris and—”

“Because he was sick,” Buck says, cutting in. He steps into the room and into Eddie’s personal space. “And now you’re sick.” He reaches out to press a palm to Eddie’s forehead. “Jesus Eds, you’re hot.” He seems to realise what he’s said just as the words come tumbling out of his mouth and flushes.

“You think I’m hot?” Eddie tries for humour, but it falls flat when his legs are shaking just from the effort of standing.

“I think you’re delirious,” Buck jokes herding Eddie through to the living room and over to the couch. “That’s the only explanation I can come up with for you thinking you’re okay to work. Wait here.”

Dropping gratefully onto the couch, Eddie lets his head tip back. He can hear the soft rumble of voices in the distance—Buck and Chris talking somewhere in the house—and lets the sound of his two favourite people wash over him.

“Hey.”

Blinking owlishly up at the figure standing over him, Eddie realises he must have fallen asleep again.

“I’m going to take Chris to school. Will you be right here for a bit?”

Eddie pushes himself upright. “I just need to finish getting ready.”

A hand on his shoulder stops him, and it shouldn’t be this hard to resist, but he’s already sinking back down into the cushions.

Buck has the quilt from Eddie’s bed bundled up in his arms. “I’ve already called Bobby to let him know you won’t be in,” Buck tells him, draping the quilt over Eddie. “And once I’ve dropped Chris off, I’ll pick some things up from the pharmacy. You’ve only got kids medicine in the cabinet.”

“I love you.” The words spill out to hang in the air between them and even if Eddie is sick and feverish and not quite thinking things through, he means them, with all his heart.

“I—” Buck’s face does something complicated before settling into a bashful smile. “I love you too, Eds.” He fixes the quilt and straightens, calling to Chris, “You ready buddy?”

“Yep!” Chris makes his way over to the couch to say goodbye. He wraps his small arms around Eddie. “Don’t worry Dad, Bucky will help you feel better.”

“I know. Love you kid.”

As he watches Buck ferry his son out the door, Eddie feels his heart swell in his chest. He wonders how he managed to get this lucky, to find someone like Buck who cares so much. They’ve only officially been dating for a few weeks, but Eddie knows. Buck is it for him.

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

Hold Me Tighter ||3||

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Peter and reader have a talk and Bucky overhears. 

Warnings: Swearing I think? A big of angst, fluff, Buck jumping to conclusions bc he’s a soft dummie...

A/N: Hej hej friends, it’s been a bit since i’ve posted something. My life has been wild and though i’ve been working on various things I have yet to complete said various things. Hopefully posting this gets me back into the groove. Please enjoy and give me feedback as its very much appreciated!! <3

Part ||1||   Part ||2||

~~~~~~

“Do you have an ace?” 

“Nope, go fish,” 

“Do you have a crush on Bucky?” 

You almost drop your hand full of cards on the ground as the words leave the man's mouth. 

“Wha-Peter!” 

“What? It kinda looks obvious, on both sides, but it’s like you guys or holding back or something,” Peter shrugs nonchalantly as he plucks a card from the deck before laying down another set of matches. 

You pout, “Why are you so good at this game?” 

“Answer my question first,” He laughs lightly while playfully nudging your shoulder with his fist. 

You and Peter had been the ones left at the tower while the team was on their latest mission. You felt grateful for the company, or at least you did before he started asking questions while he taught you how to play various card games. The pair of you sat facing each other, legs crossed and knees almost touching as the deck of cards sat in the middle. 

“I dunno… Maybe?” You could feel the fire in your cheeks and ears as you answered, forgetting to ask if Pete had a card and taking straight from the deck instead. 

Peter smiled widely and set down the few cards he still had, putting his full attention on you, “That’s great, Y/n! I think he likes you too! Why haven’t you guys gotten together yet? You spend like every day with each other when Bucky isn’t on a mission. He even cooks for you all the time and I’ve never seen him do that with anyone-” 

“Peter, it's not like that. I’m pretty sure he just thinks of me as like… A charity case or something. He’s helped me a lot since I’ve gotten here but it was solely because he felt obligated too. Kind of like when you find a puppy on the street,” You set your cards down to the side as well, using your free hands to nervously tangle your fingers together. 

“That's ridiculous! Y/n he calls you pet names all the time, he carries you around, I even saw him kiss your cheek before he left!” Peter points an accusatory finger at you. 

Your eyes widen in shock and you stutter before responding, “Why are you paying so much attention to us? It’s weird how much you notice...And besides, lately he hasn’t really been the same. He tells me that he’s always busy with training or meetings or something, and I get that it happens, especially with what you guys do! But it just feels like he’s been avoiding me lately,” 

“The whole team has noticed! You guys have done almost everything but make it official,” The man sighs exasperatedly before leaning forward and pressing his forehead against yours, a silly habit the two of you developed for serious conversations, making you giggle a bit before pushing back, “You should talk with him about it dude,”

You keep your forehead pressed against Pete's, sighing quietly before responding, “I just think… If he doesn’t feel the same way, then everything is going to change. He won’t want to spend time with me anymore, or talk to me, he won’t wanna watch movies with me… He just- he won’t be able to think of me as more than just the silly mutant that’s been obsessed with him for as long as she’s known him,” Your face had scrunched up into a scowl as you thought about what life would be like without Bucky by your side. 

“Hey, hey, hey! He won’t do that, I promise. Bucky isn’t like that, he’d never just start to ignore you or think of you as some obsessed girl. It’s obvious he cares about you a lot, and I think it would be good for both of you to talk about it,” 

“I wouldn’t even know where to start-”

“Start with how you feel, put it all out in the open,” Pete says confidently.

“That’s crazy!”

“How is it crazy?” 

“I can’t just go up to him and say, ‘Hey I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’ve been deeply enthralled and have wanted to be with you since the first time we met!’” 

Peter was about to respond, but a deep voice interrupted, “Y/n?”

You and Pete pull your heads apart and gape at the tall brunette standing in the doorway, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown and his eyes full of confusion. “Bucky I-” 

He puts a hand up before you can continue, “I um-I gotta go shower. Sorry I interrupted you guys,” 

You sat frozen on the floor as Bucky quickly made his exit, Peter switching his gaze between you and the now empty doorway. “Oh my god-” he muttered in absolute bewilderment.

“Wh-what just happened? What should I do? Oh my god he hates me! He’ll never speak to me again-” 

“No! No, no, no it’s fine! Just a misunderstanding! You need to go after him and clear it up,” Peter tells you, hurriedly standing up before grabbing your hands and helping you stand. “You need to tell him everything Y/n. *Everything.*” 

You nod your head in agreement, starting for the doorway, “Thanks pete, I’ll see you later,” 

Peter’s response doesn’t quite register as you quickly walk down the maze of hallways, trying to find the fastest possible route to Bucky’s room. Your heart felt like it was pounding hard enough to escape your chest. 

You let out a yelp as you suddenly hit a wall, “Oh hey kid, you seen Barnes yet? He was lookin for ya,” Tony’s hands are on each of your arms to steady you as he begins to ask how your week with Peter went. 

You can’t focus on any of his questions, solely focused on fixing the mess you had made. 

“Kid? You okay?” Tony steps closer to you, his overbearing father coming out as he reaches up to check your temperature, “hmm maybe we should get you to med, you feel a little hot,” 

“Tony I’m fine-” You try and back out of his grasp but he holds onto you firmly. 

“Hey if you’re gettin’ a fever we want to catch it quick-” 

“I don’t have a fever, please-” 

“C’mon, it’ll only take a minute,”

“Oh my god, goodbye!” You huff out before pushing Tony away from you and using your power to disappear from the hallway. 

Tony lets out an annoyed sigh, “If you get anyone else sick you’re the one who’s taking care of them!” he shouts into the empty space. 

You however, had already popped up outside of Bucky’s door, your hands clenched into fists of stress and nerves. Your right hand went to open the door but when you tried to twist the handle it didn’t budge. 

“Friday can you let me in?”

“Mr. Barnes has specified to not be bothered for the time being,” The AI responded simply. 

You let out a huff of frustration, “Okay well it’s either you unlock the door and let me in or I just pop up in there, so…”

There was a moment of silence before you heard the quiet click of the door unlocking, making you smile victoriously, “Thank you, Friday,” 

Bucky was still in the bathroom with the door closed when you had entered his room. You took a quick look around before deciding to sit on the bed and wait for him to be done. Your fingers began to tangle and pull at themselves in a stressful manner and you couldn’t help the tight feeling in your chest. It only got worse when you heard the running water turn off and the sound of Bucky drying and dressing himself. 

When Bucky opens the door, the both of you freeze in place, eyes locked on to each other for what felt like ages. 

Bucky is the first to break eye contact and move, “I thought I told Friday I didn’t want any visitors,” he mumbles quietly, going over to toss the damp towel in his hands into a laundry hamper.

“I uh- I told her I would just pop in anyways…” 

“Shouldn’t invade people's privacy like that, kid,” his cold tone made you cringe, “can’t start abusing your power like that,”

“Listen Bucky, I came here to explain-” 

“You don’t gotta explain anything to me. I saw what I saw, it’s not a big deal,” he interrupts you and avoids your eyes as he begins to unpack from his mission. 

“Except I think you might not understand entirely-” you begin only to be interrupted again. 

“No! No, I get it. Pete is a good kid, good morals, good background. I can see why you’d like him, it makes sense,” Bucky’s voice was clearly stressed as he spoke and it just made your chest tighten even more. 

“Bucky no-” 

“He’s closer to your age, you have a lot in common, spend a lot of time together…”

“Why is everyone interrupting me today?” you groan out in frustration before getting up off of the bed and walking over to the disgruntled man. 

You move to sit on the other side of the duffle bag he continues to empty, still avoiding your eyes. You let out a huff of annoyance and quickly grab hold of Bucky's hands, bringing them to a pause. 

“Kid, I gotta unpack-”

“No. Not until you let me say what I need to say. Without interrupting me,” You state firmly.

Bucky visibly clenches his jaw, giving you a small nod to continue, “You didn’t hear me say those words to Peter-” 

“Yes I di-” “What did I just say? No interruptions!” 

Bucky sighs, “Sorry,” 

You take another breath before restarting, “You didn’t hear me say those words to Peter. You heard me telling him about what I’d say to someone else,” 

Bucky’s face scrunches up in confusion as he replays your words in his head, trying to put the pieces together, but failing. “Who were you going to say-” 

“You! Ya big dummy. I was telling Peter what I would say to you,” You blurt out with a breath of exasperation. 

Bucky shook his head, as if to try and wake himself up from a daydream, “Are you serious?”

“Yes! Of course I am, Buck. I- Peter said that it would be good for the both of us if I admitted my true feelings for you, and I didn’t know what I would say, so he suggested that I just flat out tell you, and…” You trail off, hoping the older can figure out the rest on his own. 

“And that’s when I walked in? When you had figured out what exactly you’d say?” 

“More or less, yeah,” you answer quietly, giving Bucky’s hands a gentle squeeze to try and bring even more reassurance. 

“Why were you so close to each other?” You looked back up to Bucky, a smile gracing your features as his gaze finally met yours. 

“Because we were having a serious discussion. Isn’t that what everyone does?” You ask, brows slightly knit in confusion.

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head, “No I think that’s only you two,” 

“Oh…” 

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, mulling over what you’d like to say next and trying to organize your thoughts. When Bucky didn’t say anything for a while you decided to continue on, “So um...Do you maybe uh-maybe do you feel the same way? About me?”

Bucky doesn’t even wait a beat to answer, “Oh my god yes! Yes I’ve felt the same way for ages, doll!” 

Your eyes widen in disbelief as you take in the new information, “You have?”

Bucky nods his head, a smile on his face as he looks into your eyes, “Sweetheart I’ve been head over heels for you since I first caught you in midair,” he chuckles. 

You grin at Bucky and feel the familiar flickering of your powers take place, knowing your emotions were much too strong to stop it. Within the blink of an eye you had popped out of existence and popped right back up into Bucky’s lap, making him fall over in a huff of laughter. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into the softness of his hair, “What gives then you goof? Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Bucky wraps his arms around your waist and gives you a tight squeeze, “Once you started gettin’ the hang of your powers and began training with the rest of the team, I dunno… It felt like you didn’t need me there for you anymore, I didn’t want to risk holding you back from making new friends and connections,” Your heart split in two hearing Bucky’s explanation.

You pull your face out of his lovely smelling hair and stare into the soldier's pretty blue eyes, “That’s silly Bubba. You would never hold me back! You’re the reason why I’m so comfortable around everyone now. You gave me the strength to get out of my comfort zone,” Bucky grinned at your words and shook his head, mentally chiding himself for being so foolish. 

“M’sorry lovie, I guess I got in my own head about everything. Almost messed it all up too because I got so upset when I saw you and Peter,” Your chest swelled with happiness when he calls you one of your favorite nicknames, knowing the two of you were back to normal. 

“It’s okay! I can understand why you thought what you did. But I promise I’ve only ever been deeply enthralled with you,” You laugh and push your forehead up against Bucky’s, making him let out a deep melody of chuckles. 

“Does this mean I don’t have to hold back anymore? I can love on you as much as I want?” Bucky pairs his question with an affectionate nuzzle in the crook of your neck before looking back up into your gleeful eyes. 

You giggle and brush your nose up against his as you nod your head, “You coulda done that before,” 

Bucky’s hands move from around your waist to your thighs, easily lifting the both of you up from the plush carpet, “M’never lettin’ you go ever again. Gonna hold on real tight, sweet girl.” 

You keep your arms wrapped around his neck and try to pull Bucky closer, burying your face back into the crook of his neck and breathing him in. He moves the two of you over to his bed and flops down onto it, pulling the both of you under the covers and tangling his legs with yours. The two of you stay like that for what feels like ages.

A perfectly content tangle of happiness and relief. 

[babyjamiebarnes]

Build-A-Bear

Part Three

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, Morgan, various characters in other chapters

Warnings: language, sexual innuendos and implications

Chapter Summary: Reader has dinner with her family and gets grilled even harder than her food. But she’s turned to a light simmer when Bucky takes her out for their first date.

Author’s Note: This chapter is fucking monstrous lol. I did not expect it to be this long so it might be a couple extra days before the next chapter so I can catch up! I’m also not sure if my Italian is accurate so I apologize in advance. I used to work for a man named Gennaro from Naples and he called me “bella” so hopefully I’m sort of right? If you like the story so far, feel free to buy me a coffee!

Part One • Part Two

Tags: @kennedywxlsh

Dinner that night was tense, to say the least. It was nice to have your dad, step-mom, sister, and uncles Happy and Rhodey over again, but your dad wasn’t quick to forget what he saw earlier.

“What was that with Barnes today?” Tony asked as you all sat around the dining room table in your midtown flat, poking away at the remnants of your meals.

“What do you mean?” you asked innocently.

Your dad just gave you an incredulous look. “You know what I mean.”

You sighed and avoided meeting his eyes. “I was just working on his arm, dad. I didn’t wanna make him lie down on a hard lab table while I poked around to do what you wanted and quiet his arm,” you explained.

“Wait, Barnes as in Bucky Barnes?” Uncle Rhodey clarified.

“Yeah,” your dad confirmed, not taking his eyes off of you. “I found her kneeling between his legs while he sat shirtless on the couch.”

“You’re sleeping with Bucky?!” Rhodey asked.

“I’m not sleeping with anyone!” you defended, dropping your fork onto your plate. “I’ve known him for a month.”

“That’s never stopped your father,” Pepper mumbled under her breath, making you huff out a laugh despite your current grilling.

“Listen, when I said ‘no fraternizing with coworkers,’ I meant it,” your dad said.

“Please stop saying ‘fraternizing.’ It’s weird.”

Tony sighed and crossed his arms. “No ‘slumber parties’ with coworkers,” he rephrased.

This made Morgan perk up in her seat, having spent the past couple minutes confusedly watching you and your dad bicker.

“Can we have a slumber party, [Y/N]?” she asked.

“Yes, honey, we can have a slumber party,” you responded.

“Tonight?” she continued.

At this, you pointedly looked at your dad and raised your eyebrows as a way of saying ‘are we done now?’ You could tell he didn’t want to end the conversation, but you were grateful for the sudden change of topic. Tony uncrossed his arms and leaned against the table as he replied to your sister.

“If your big sister says it’s okay, you can have a slumber party tonight.”

Morgan lit up like the Fourth of July, quickly listing off all the movies she wanted to watch even though you knew she’d fall asleep halfway through the first movie.

As your family packed up to leave, leaving Morgan since she had a drawer of clothes for the impromptu sleepovers you’ve had before, you calmed your racing heart before saying the words that would either make your father more suspicious or completely quash his suspicions.

“You’ll have to pick her up by four tomorrow. I have a date.”

All of the adults turned to face you. Pepper had a huge smile on her face, clearly excited for you, but your dad and Rhodey looked ready to fight. Happy looked curious, maybe even worried, but he played a big role in raising you so while Tony was the overprotective parent, Happy was the comforting parent (not that he’d ever let anyone know that).

“A date?” The tone of your dad’s voice made you roll your eyes at him.

“I’m a grown woman. I’m allowed to go on dates.”

Your dad let out a quiet harumph at that, but understood where you were coming from. “I know, sweetheart. Forgive me for being a bit overprotective of my little girl.”

“I get it. I appreciate your concern,” you said with a smile, “but this is good for me. You want grandkids eventually, right?”

“Oh god,” your dad groaned, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m not old enough to be a grandpa but I’m old enough to have a heart attack at the mention of it.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“So what’s this person’s name?” Pepper piped up. You visibly tensed and internally panicked. You couldn’t just admit it was Bucky after denying anything there. But his name was technically pretty common...

“His name is James.”

Rhodey snapped his fingers and pointed at you as he said, “I like him already.”

‘Yeah, sure you do,’ you thought. The sight of your dad narrowing his eyes at you and crossing his arms as he stood in the entryway of your apartment made you nervous. Maybe James wasn’t good enough to get him off your trail (probably because he was right).

“How did you meet this guy?” Tony asked.

If anyone else had asked, you would’ve said ‘work,’ but that’s the last place you could say to your dad — with whom you worked.

“Uhh, at the grocery store. We accidentally followed each other and got a lot of the same food so he jokingly accused me of stalking him and we just hit it off,” you rattled off. It’s a good thing he didn’t know how your friend Monique met her girlfriend or he’d know you were lying.

“That’s so cute,” Pepper cooed. She was definitely the more relaxed of your parents, possibly because she wasn’t your biological mom. She had been raising you since you were ten though, so she played a big part in your upbringing.

“Text me his last name so I can run a background check,” your dad said. You’d love to think he was joking, but you knew he was serious.

And as much as you knew you’d regret it, you had to make a joke…

“His last name is Barnes,” you said, keeping your face as serious as possible. “James Barnes. I actually know his middle name too: Buchanan.”

“[Y/N] [Y/M/N] [Y/L/N], you better be joking right now,” Tony said. He was already getting red in the face, clearly unenthused at the prospect of you dating the man who, admittedly, killed his parents — your grandparents. Yeah, understandable.

“I’m obviously kidding,” you said, forcing a laugh. “It’s just funny that they have the same first name and you’re so anti-Bucky.”

“You’re gonna send me to an early grave,” he muttered. “I’m going home before I actually have a heart attack.”

You said your goodbyes and ‘I love you’s before you and Morgan put on your pajamas and set up a pillow fort in the middle of your living room to watch her favorite sleepover movie: “Shrek.”

As the movie went on, you leaned back in the fort to take a photo of Morgan with the movie in the background. Well, the back of Morgan’s head as she was engrossed in the movie she’d seen a million times.

[Image attached] She’s got her teddy bear but where’s my Bucky Bear? 🥺

Across the city, Bucky’s phone buzzed from its spot on the kitchen counter as he made himself a late dinner. He didn’t recognize the number, but smiled when he saw the picture of who he assumed was your sister or niece.

I never got an invite. Looks like more fun than my night.

You smiled to yourself when you saw his reply, rolling your eyes at the lack of exclamation points and emojis. Typical man.

What does your night look like?

Eating a late dinner and talking to you.

Talking to me isn’t fun?! I’m hurt 😢

Not as fun as actually being with you.

Even though he wasn’t there and didn’t say it verbally, you could feel your cheeks get hot at his words.

There’s no way sweet talk like that didn’t get you in more than four beds.

You’re still on that? I swear doll, I have the same number as you.

Whatever you say! 🙄

There was a lull in conversation after that, giving you time to move your sister to lie on her back with pillows and blankets in the fort so she could sleep more comfortably.

Are we still going out tomorrow?

You let the next Shrek movie start automatically, but you didn’t pay any attention as you texted Bucky.

I’m still down if you are 👀

You sent him your address and let him know you’d wait on the front steps for him so he didn’t have to come all the way up. With the exchange of ‘good night’ messages, you drifted asleep to the sounds of Shrek 2.

•

The next morning, you somehow managed to wake up before your sister, then brought her back to the land of the living with the smell of French toast.

You spent your day watching another movie with Morgan before fixing lunch and taking her to a park down the road. Morgan’s childhood was definitely different from yours. Happy was the one who took you to parks and shopping, but Tony parented at home. Morgan would have the same early experiences, but the world knew Tony and Pepper had a daughter. They kept her identity hidden for now, waiting until she could decide if she wanted to reveal herself later in life. The world never knew about you.

And you had to be somewhat grateful for that. You still got all the perks of being a Stark — the money, the Tower, meeting the Avengers (and having James Rhodes as your godfather) — without the stress of fame. But part of you still wished you could talk about your father without keeping his occupation vague and referring to him as “Anthony” when telling stories instead of Tony.

Morgan also got to know her mom. You only spent the first seven years of your life with your mom before she was killed in a drive-by shooting. The police investigated it like crazy because everyone thought since it was Tony Stark’s wife, it had to be a targeted hit. But since she never took the same jogging route twice, all they came up with was an unplanned drive-by. You cherished the memories you had with her, but still openly welcomed Pepper when she came into the picture. She may not have played the same type of role in your life, but she helped shape your middle and high school years.

By the time you and Morgan got back to your place, she was exhausted, climbing back into the still-intact blanket fort to take a nap. When your dad and Pepper stopped by to pick her up, she was still knocked out.

“We’ll get out of your hair so you can get ready for your date,” your dad said with Morgan in his arms. “Send me this James guy’s last name. I still want to run a background check.”

“Dad,” you grumbled. “I already did my research. He’s clear.” Kind of. He technically has murdered hundreds of people, including your grandparents, but he’s reformed and fighting for the good guys now. Not that your dad would let it slide if you told him that.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned. “Let me know if you need to hide any bodies, okay?”

“You got it,” you said with a laugh as they headed out. You had two hours to get ready for Bucky, giving you plenty of time to look extra cute.

By the time six rolled around, you were all dolled up and ready to go. The autumn weather had you in a jacket and boots, but that just pulled your outfit together.

Your doorman Matt was standing inside the lobby when you ran downstairs, tossing him a small wave as you left.

“Have a good night, Miss [Y/L/N],” he said with a nod.

“See you later, Matt!”

You stood at the bottom of your building’s front steps, checking your phone and looking up and down the block for Bucky. It was six on the dot, so you figured he’d be there soon.

“Hey!” You looked up from your phone to see Bucky jogging toward you, a black leather jacket covering his arms and a black glove hiding his left hand. “Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t get away from Sam. Had to tell him I was gonna check out my old stomping grounds in Brooklyn.”

“You’re, like, 30 seconds late. I’m just glad you’re here,” you said with a smile. “So what are we doing tonight?”

Bucky’s smile faltered as he looked down at you. Your boots gave you a bit of a height bump, but Bucky still stood taller than you.

“I, uh, I kinda thought you had something planned,” he said softly.

“Oh, oops,” you laughed. “Well… what about those Brooklyn stomping grounds of yours? Care to show me around?”

Bucky lit up at the recommendation and started leading the way to the nearest subway stop. Before you started down the stairs, he paused and turned to you with a sour expression.

“I probably should’ve asked if you’d rather get a cab,” he said.

“Bucky, I take the subway to work every day. It’s fine.”

“Why do you take the train? You don’t live too far away.” You two made your way down the steps to the bustling station.

“It’s just easier. Less work for me,” you explained. “I didn’t take the train much as a kid so I like taking the opportunity now that I can.”

“Most people don’t willingly take the subway,” he laughed. “Steve and I always used to talk about how we’d be rich enough to have a car someday. But now that I could get any car I wanted, I don’t think I want one. I like the subway.”

“Even though it’s smelly and dirty?” you joked.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “It’s one of the things that still reminds me of home.”

The gentleness in his voice nearly brought you to tears. This man had been through so much and was still the sweetest soul you’d ever met. Forced into a war he didn’t want to join, experimented on, tortured and brainwashed, hunted by every government in the world, captured, frozen, and forced into another war and more battles he shouldn’t have to join. He just couldn’t catch a break.

“Well I’m excited to see what else reminds you of home,” you replied.

The trains to and through Brooklyn were relatively busy so you and Bucky couldn’t really talk much, but it was a Saturday night so you couldn’t blame people for getting out. It was tough to find seats, but Bucky was willing to stand to make sure you could have a seat. Ever the gentleman.

When you made it to Bucky’s Brooklyn stop of choice, he started telling you more stories from the ‘40s, like when Steve couldn’t get off the train in time and accidentally went down another stop so Bucky ran to the next stop and found Steve heading his way anyway. And how he and Steve followed his sister Rebecca on a date “to watch out for her,” he said, and her date thought they were stalking her and tried to beat them up. And all the fights he pulled Steve out of.

“Punk was a chihuahua who thought he was a Rottweiler.”

For a while, you two walked around the streets of Brooklyn just telling each other stories. You were careful about names you used, often just calling Happy “Uncle Harry” and Rhodey “Uncle James.”

Bucky showed you the movie theater he and Steve used to go to, which was surprisingly still in business. You walked past what used to be a diner Bucky frequented but was converted into a bridal shop.

“This used to be a magic store Steve loved,” he said, looking up at the bank on the corner of the street. “Things have changed a lot.”

You heard the nostalgia in his voice, clearly missing the New York he grew up to love. He had a soft smile on his lips as he reminisced, though.

“What about where you lived?” you asked. “Do you remember where that is?”

“Oh yeah,” he chuckled. “I could never forget that.”

Everything was within a fifteen minute walk of where you got off the subway so even though your feet were getting tired, you followed alongside Bucky as he led the way up and down the streets. Before too long, you strode up to a large brick building that had clearly been remodeled recently, if the fresh windows and front doors were any indication.

“It’s… a lot nicer than when I lived here,” Bucky said with a sigh. “But it’s been nearly 100 years so I can’t blame them for updating things.”

“Brooklyn is kind of booming now, too,” you added. “More people to appeal to, ya know?”

You stared up at him again, seeing that same lost look as before, like he wished to turn back time and show you the Brooklyn he knew. So you decided since he couldn’t do that, you’d show him the Brooklyn you knew.

“Come here. My turn to show you around,” you said, holding your hand out to him. He gave you a small smile before grabbing your hand in his and letting you pull him back to the subway.

Ten minutes later, you hopped off the train with Bucky in tow and headed to the little Italian restaurant you found while exploring the city a couple years before. It wasn’t anything elaborate; it was honestly more of a little hole-in-the-wall, but you liked the quiet atmosphere.

“Bella!” the owner shouted as you walked in.

“Hey Genny,” you smiled at him.

“Who’s this?” he asked as he approached you, raising his eyebrows when he saw Bucky.

“This is James,” you said. You opted against using his more common nickname to avoid any recognition.

“James, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Gennaro, but you can call me Genny. Welcome to my restaurant.” The two men shook hands before Genny ushered you two to a table and handed you menus. “Would you like to start with focaccia?”

“Yes please!”

“Con formaggi?”

“Si! Grazie!”

Gennaro left you and Bucky while he started your appetizer.

“You speak Italian?” Bucky asked.

“Definitely not,” you laughed. “I’ve just been coming here for a while and have picked up on some things Genny says. Like ‘bella’ means ‘beautiful,’ this pizza,” you pointed to your favorite pizza on the menu, “‘cinque formaggi’ means ‘five cheese.’ But I could never hold a conversation.”

“Un peccato,” Bucky sighed before flashing a smile at you.

“You speak Italian?!” you nearly shrieked. “No way! Don’t talk shit with Gennaro behind my back.” You pouted at Bucky, but knew he wouldn’t say anything bad about you. Maybe an embarrassing moment or two — like your dad walking in on you between his knees — but nothing negative.

“I picked it up pretty quickly back in the day,” Bucky explained. “Before I was sent to Germany, I was stationed in a small town in Italy for a while. The locals didn’t mind having us there because we kept the Nazis out, so they taught us some Italian when we were in town.”

“Maybe I should take Gennaro up on his offer to learn Italian,” you mused.

“Or you could learn from me,” Bucky was quick to offer. “I’ll teach you some stuff when you’re working on my arm.”

Your server arrived with the focaccia and water for both of you, before giving you more time to actually look at the menus instead of talking. You decided to split a bottle of red wine and two pizzas, one of your choice and one of Bucky’s. As the night went on, you and Bucky both opened up to each other even more than before. You could easily blame the buzz from a couple glasses of wine, but Bucky’s super soldier serum made you confused. His cheeks were flushed and he had more than half the bottle, so you wondered if maybe...

“Can you still get drunk?”

“Unlike Steve, yes. It takes more than this,” he said, lifting the nearly empty bottle of wine, “but since Steve and I received different serums, they work a little differently. I can definitely get drunk. Marijuana admittedly hits harder.”

You paused as you stared back at him, his elbows perched on the table and his clasped hands propped under his chin.

“Are you drunk now?”

“No,” he laughed quietly. “A little tipsy, sure, but not drunk by a long shot.”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully, reluctantly accepting that he was just as buzzed as you but not quite drunk.

Before long, your server brought over your tab and you realized how empty the restaurant had gotten. Then you noticed the broom and mop the server had brought out to the floor, then the dark ‘open’ sign, and finally the clock on the wall.

“You closed 20 minutes ago and didn’t kick us out?” you shouted at Gennaro. “Genny, you can always kick me out! I feel bad!”

Gennaro walked over to your table as you scrambled for your wallet and handed the server your card to run.

“I can’t kick you out, bella. You and your moroso are welcome any time.”

“I think this poor girl would beg to differ,” you said as the server handed your card and signature slip back. She just laughed at your comment, agreeing without saying it outright.

You left a hefty tip and hugged Genny before you and Bucky, both still a bit tipsy, shuffled outside.

“Thanks for buying dinner,” Bucky said. “This means I get to pay next time, though.”

He said it so casually and you already planned on another date, but it still kind of caught you off guard.

“Next time?” You smiled up at him and took a step closer until you were almost toe-to-toe. “There’s gonna be a ‘next time’?”

“I sure hope there is,” he said quietly, his smirk sending a rush up your spine.

“If you insist,” you sighed. He knew better than to believe you weren’t excited for your future plans. “I’m cold. Care to get an Uber with me?”

He gently grabbed your shoulders and spun you around, pulling the loose opening of his jacket over your arms and wrapping his arms around you to help keep you warm.

“Well, yeah. I need to make sure you get home safe so ‘next time’ can happen,” Bucky said as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“You know, I don’t usually let men spoon me on the first date,” you joked as you tapped away to order an Uber.

“I can stop, if you want,” he teased.

You gripped his arm as he started to pull away. “I never said that.”

Bucky rode back to your place with you, keeping conversation casual as you both avoided the controversy you were about to face: to kiss on the first date or not. You never really had any issues with it before, but you already really liked Bucky. You didn’t want to risk messing it up by moving too fast. But what grown man would think a kiss on a first date was too fast? Well… maybe one born in the early 1900s…

Before your thoughts could throw you into a downward spiral, the driver pulled up outside your apartment complex. Bucky stepped out first and held the door open for you to scoot out after him. As you stood at the bottom of the stairs to your building, you felt those nerves creeping up on you again. God, you hadn’t felt this nervous about a date since high school.

“I had fun tonight,” Bucky said first, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Me too,” you smiled back. “I’m excited for what you plan for next time.”

Bucky laughed at this, the crinkle of his nose making your own smile grow. God, you wanted to invite him inside already. In your defense, you’ve known him for a full month and spent even longer getting heart-eyes over him in college.

But you reined in your hormones and just took a step closer to him to rest your hands on his chest. His right hand came up to rest on your waist, but he kept the metal hand in his pocket. With your hand placement, you could feel the thrum of his heartbeat and judging by the pace, you knew you were both on the same page. As you were trying to shove your nerves aside, Bucky asked the one question you were hoping for.

“Can I kiss you?”

Knowing he wanted this as much as you did relieved some of your nerves, but also made the moment that much more real. You smiled up at him and nodded your head.

“Yes, please do.”

You perched up on your toes to meet him halfway, letting his lips mold to yours. His hold on your waist tightened as he pulled you closer; you gripped the lapel of his jacket in your fists. Suddenly the cold of the night no longer existed. All you could feel was the warmth radiating off of him as he held you close. He pulled back for a second before diving right back in, this time nipping at your bottom lip. You giggled against him, but didn’t stop him from taking the innocent kiss a step further. Your hands slid from his chest to the nape of his neck before tangling into his long hair. The vibration from his moan as you tugged on his hair ran straight down your spine, making it even harder to leave the date alone.

Reluctantly, you both pulled apart just enough for your noses to brush against each other, the stubble of his beard still tickling your nose. You opened your eyes enough to see the smile on his lips as he pulled back a bit more to see your face.

“I’ll see you Monday?” you said quietly, as if speaking any louder would break you two out of your bubble.

“See you Monday, [Y/N],” Bucky replied just as quietly. His hand slipped from your waist as you backed away, biting your lip at him before you turned and scurried up the steps. Bucky stood on the sidewalk until he could see the light in your apartment flick on, just to make sure you were safe.