#bucky mcu

[simplyholl]

Filthy

Summary: After a long mission, Bucky needs you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY.

See my Masterlist Here

"Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" Your sweet voice replayed over and over in his mind. He hadn't flat out refused your offer, but he hadn't said yes either. Now as he laid under the rubble of the bomb Hydra had detonated, it was all he could think of.

You were friends, one of the only people besides Steve to make him feel welcome on the Avengers. The others were wary of him, and he didn’t blame them. He had done unforgivable things as The Winter Soldier. Now he was fighting for the right cause. He couldn't help the reoccurring nightmares of the horrors he encountered in his past. He didn't want to get too comfortable in his new life, the one Steve helped him obtain because he was scared The Winter Soldier was still lurking around in his brain somewhere.

That's why he never dated. Sam would tease him, telling him he could have anybody he wanted, but he settled for his hand every night. Bucky couldn't afford to get too close to anyone. Especially someone who was weaker than him like the opposite sex. He was scared he would lose control while being intimate and hurt or even kill his partners. So he never let anyone get too close, until you.

You came bouncing into his life unexpectedly. You were brought on the team shortly after him. He would never forget your first day. Steve introduced you to everyone at the morning meeting. You were all smiles, your bubbly personality instantly drawing him in. The others were making comparisons between the two of you immediately. You were so happy, so upbeat all the time and Steve was the only one who could get Bucky to crack his cold exterior and actually smile.

Despite your differences, you got along great. Which was a bonus since Tony liked to pair you together for missions. You worked well together, complimenting each other in ways you had never thought of. Who knew almost dying together every week can cause you to form close bonds? You were spending all your free time together. You introduced him to your favorite films, some of them were awful, but he would never tell you that. You would stay up late together watching old reruns of 90's sitcoms for comfort after long missions. Bucky would go shopping with you, holding every bag you had and never complaining.

The team thought something was going on between you. Why else would the cold super soldier follow you around like a lost puppy? They put Steve up to asking about it, but Bucky denied anything but friendship. There had never been anything happen in the whole year you knew each other. You never sat too close or crossed any boundaries, never thought about it until a month ago.

One of the longest, most dangerous missions you had ever been on finally came to a close. There had been too many casualties and you were upset. Even the comfort of your warm pajamas and favorite movie didn't ease your mind. Bucky thought you needed to be alone, so he told you goodnight and headed for his room. You called after him pleading him to stay with you. You couldn't be alone, not after that.

He hesitated, he never stayed the night with anyone because of his nightmares. Tony even gave him a pass when a mission required room sharing. He was the only one who didn't have to pair up. He was afraid he might hurt you or scare you during his sleep. He tried to tell you, but you couldn't be swayed. He found himself under your fluffy pink comforter on heart shaped pillows, surrounded by a mountain of stuffed animals but he felt oddly at home.

You tried to cuddle up to him, but he scooted away. He didn't want you too close to him while he was asleep just in case he had a nightmare. But you didn't care. You told him if he attacked you in his sleep, you would blast his dick off. That made him a little less worried. "How do Tony and Clint do it?" You asked as you wrapped your arms around him, trying to snuggle the grumpy super soldier. "Do what?" He relaxed a little under your touch. "The whole normal family thing. They have a wife, kids, the works, and they are the only ones. The rest of us can't keep a relationship for more than a month, and some only do one night stands. It's hard being a hero when you have to give up stuff like that."

Bucky considers your words carefully. "Is that something you want?" You throw your leg over him, trying to get comfortable. "Eventually, I want to settle down. I'm thinking at least ten years from now, not any time soon. It's just hard to tell who is asking you out for the right reasons or because you're famous. I can't tell you how many phones I've destroyed after dates because they were trying to live stream the whole thing. Is that why you don't date?"

Bucky tenses, explaining how his past as The Winter Soldier scared him away from anything like that. "So you haven't been having sex because you're scared you will hurt someone?" He nods and you giggle. Bucky looks at you like you've grown a second head. "I'm sorry Bucky, that's ridiculous. Your arm must be so tired! Oh my God! Do you use the metal one?" His silence makes you laugh harder. "Bucky there are super powered women you could have been sleeping with this whole time. People who could at least put up a fair fight if something like that happened, but you're okay now right? I thought the code words didn't work anymore." You rub his back soothingly.

You gasp as an idea hits you. "Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" It was like word vomit. You didn't mean to say it out loud, but you couldn't take it back now. Bucky is so still that you think he's fallen asleep. Thankful he didn't hear your unhinged suggestion, you lay your head down to go to sleep.

"You mean that?" Bucky asks after a few minutes of silence pass. "If it wouldn't hurt our friendship then, why not? I trust you. And I could hold my own if things went sideways. Plus, I'm a lot hotter than your hand, you have to admit that." The quip earned a chuckle from him. "Can I think about it?" He asks, his seriousness taking over. "Of course." You snuggle back into him, sleep finding you more quickly than you would've liked. That was a little over a month ago, neither of you brought it up afterward. You figured he didn't want to hurt your feelings, so you let it go.

Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand helping him to his feet. "I thought we lost you back there." He says leading him to the quinjet. On the ride home, Bucky thought about his life, how unhappy he had been lately. He thought of you and how he kept you at arm's length to protect you from himself. You were always so open to him, always letting him know what was on your mind. When you suggested the two of you sleep together, he was shocked. Of course, he wanted to but he couldn't. You were too sweet, he was jaded. He would end up hurting you somehow, he was sure of it. But you weren't scared of him, you trusted him.

Bucky thought of all the times he laid alone at night, masterbating when he could have went home with someone instead. He always turned them down, he couldn't risk it. He lived too dangerously. He could lose his life any moment saving the planet from the next alien attack. Wasn't it time he started living for himself? He had his mind made up when the quinjet landed. Steve told him to go get the cuts on his face and arm examined but he ignored him.

He almost ran to the elevator, not bothering to wait for Steve to get on before pressing the button to shut the doors. When it finally stopped on his floor, he walked by his room, stopping three doors down right outside of yours. He should have cared that it was three in the morning, that he would be waking you up, but he didn't. He tapped on the door loud enough to wake you.

He regretted coming straight here as he waited for you, he should have went to his room to shower first. His leather jacket was dirty and torn. There was a small gash on his arm that had finally stopped bleeding. His face was filthy and according to Steve, he had a cut there too. He probably looked terrifying. He thought about leaving to clean up, but then he heard the pitter patter of your feet as you approached the door.

You pull it open slightly at first, to see who is outside, opening it wider when you see him. He steps inside as you shut it back, locking it behind him. Bucky looks around the dark room noticing the glow from your tv. Your hair is messy, you must have been sleeping fitfully. His gaze drops to your body, you're wearing a black t-shirt that stops at your hips and black lace panties.

"Are you okay?" You ask taking in his disheveled appearance. You turn to get something to clean his wounds, his vibranium hand catches your wrist. "Bucky? What hap-" He picks you up with one arm, holding you close to his body as his lips crash into yours. He walks you to the edge of your bed, tumbling on top of you as your back hits your fluffy pink comforter.

"Do you still want this?" He asks, his voice rougher than he intended. You can't think clearly, not with him on top of you, caging you in like this. His blue eyes search your face as he waits for an answer. Your panties grow wetter with each second that passes. Your nipples are peaked under your shirt, desperate to be touched as you press your chest to his dirty leather jacket. "Yes" You somehow manage to whisper your confirmation.

His mouth is on yours again, rough and demanding, almost desperate. You cup his face with your hands, "Slow down, I'm not going anywhere." You assure him, breaking the kiss. He groans, hating the loss of contact. "Can't" He rasps, his face nuzzling against your neck. He nips and kisses the sensitive skin there, his tongue licking from your shoulder to your jaw.

His flesh hand travels to your chest, rubbing his thumb over your clothed nipple. He keeps kissing his way back down your throat until he reaches the collar of your shirt. His metal arm grabs the top, slipping underneath to get a good grip on it. He rips it down the center with little effort.

You gasp as the cold air hits your now exposed chest. But you're not cold for long, Bucky's lips capture a nipple between his lips tugging and sucking like his life depends on it while his flesh hand toys with the other one. You're not sure what has gotten into him, you never expected it to be like this, like he needs you.

He kisses a trail down your stomach to your panties. They aren't exactly see through, but they don't hide anything either. His vibranium fingers dig into your hip as he lowers his face, his pink tongue licking up the center of your soaked panties. You whimper underneath him, your fingers sliding in his hair, pulling at the short strands.

He grunts as he licks you through the lacy material. You try to close your legs around his head, hoping to bring yourself more relief. Bucky's steel grip on your hip tightens as he brings his flesh hand to your thigh, pulling it off him. He opens you wide, continuing his desperate assault on you. "I need more, please." You whine, needing to actually feel him against you.

He thankfully takes mercy on you, removing his hands to grab both sides of your panties. "Lift your hips for me." You do as your told, and he slides the unwanted garment off of you. He drags you to the edge of the bed, lowering himself on his knees in front of you. He parts your thighs, metal hand returning to its rightful place on your hip. You place your leg over his shoulder, taking a deep breath as the anticipation makes your skin prickle.

His hot breath on your soaked core makes you tremble. You feel him smirk against you. "I havent even touched you yet and you're shakin' like a leaf." A dark chuckle escapes him and he dives in. His tongue flat against you as he gathers your slick, bringing it to your clit and swirling it around. He moans, loving the way you taste. He wraps his lips around your most sensitve part, drawing you in, causing your hips to buck upward.

His grip on your hip tightens, a bruise beginning to form under his thumb. "Be a good girl for me. Stay still." His voice is soft, gentle, a complete contrast to his actions. He alternates between sucking you roughly and licking you slowly. You squirm underneath him, you're so close. He suddenly stops, removing his face from you.

His flesh hand rubbing your stomach, before laying his arm on you forcefully to keep you from moving. "I said stay still." He growls, his tongue swiping your clit before he sucks it between his lips once more. It takes every ounce of concentration you have to not writhe against him. You've never seen him like this so needy, almost feral. He's like a wild animal slurping you down like you're the first thing he's eaten in weeks. You don't dare to disturb him. So you lie as still as you can, letting him have you.

He needs this. He needs you. He flicks his tongue expertly over your clit, sendng you spiralling. He holds you down as he takes all he wants from you. He's not satisfied until you come three times. Your legs are wobbly, you couldn't get up if you had to. Tears stream down your face from how intense it was. He finally stands, unbuttoning his pants, sliding them down just enough to free himself.

He adjusts himself between your legs, filling you up. You gasp, grabbing onto his grimy leather jacket for support. You wonder why he didn't bother with getting undressed, but you don't mind. You love how dirty he is. How the filth on his jacket rubbing against your bare chest is the sexiest thing in the world right now. How you can see the cut on his arm, dried blood on his sleeve. You don't know if it's his or some Hydra asshole's, and you don't know which is hotter.

His hair is disheveled. His face is scraped, dirt from the mission caked on him, remnants of your arousal still on his mouth. He fills you completely over and over, holding you as close as he can. His pants rub the back of your thighs as he pounds into you. You caress his face, "Can I be on top?" You ask quietly, afraid you'll offend him some way in his feral state. He flips you so his back is on your mattress. Normally you would be upset that your sheets were getting dirty, but you didn't mind at all. You place your legs on either side of him, sliding down his length. Your ass hits the fabric of his jeans as you take all of him.

You look behind you noticing how big he looks on your bed. His leather boots covered in mud, hanging off the edge. A gush of arousal floods his lap, his hands hold your thighs, pulling you closer. You begin to lift yourself up and down on him, your legs still shaky from your earlier orgasms. Bucky notices you won't be able to keep it up for long, so he clutches your hips, taking over. He thrusts underneath you, your hands land on his shoulders needing to steady yourself. You love that it's giving the illusion that you're in control, your body on top of his, but he's calling all the shots, moving your body like he owns it.

You've never felt so full. It's as if Bucky can read your mind, his flesh hand pressing on the bulge he's making in your stomach. He works you harder now, his vibranium thumb coming between you to swirl your clit. Your vision goes blurry, stars bursting behind your eyelids. You come with a loud cry of his name. He follows shortly after, spilling inside you. He holds you close, as you listen to his breathing slow down as he drifts off to sleep while still inside you.

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[marvelstoriesepic]

Supposed Distraction

Pairing: College!Athlete!Bucky x College!Reader

Summary: It’s Bucky’s birthday and you and your friends are planning a surprise party. That leaves you with the task to distract him while the others prepare.

Prompt 1: “I think we need to talk.”

Prompt 2: “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

Prompt 3: “Kiss me.”

Word Count: 7.6k

Warnings: friends to lovers; reader is embarrassed and rather terrible at attempting to distract Bucky; Bucky is smug; Bucky is worried; Sam and Steve are idiots; feels; pining; tension; Bucky is a sweetheart

Author’s Note: This is another entry for the lovely cinema themed writing challenge by @elixirfromthestars ♡ I hope you’re not getting tired of me participating, my dear, but I couldn’t help it. Especially since you were the one inspiring me to write this about college!bucky. I'll have to thank you for that!! Hope you enjoy! ♡

Masterlist

You always knock four times.

It’s instinctive at this point, muscle memory more than conscious thought. You don’t even remember when or how it started, but it's always fours knocks.

The door swings open within seconds, revealing Bucky’s easy and bright grin. He leans against the frame, arms crossed over his broad chest, hair slightly tousled, perhaps from running his hands through it. God, he looks great.

“Hey, doll,” he greets, voice warm. “You’re early.”

You arch a brow, stepping past him when he shifts to let you in. “It’s your birthday, Buck. What kind of friend would I be if I left you alone, huh?”

Bucky exhales a short sigh, but his smile stays in place. “Told you, it’s not a big deal.”

“‘Course it is, Buck,” you argue, almost indignant at the thought. Because if anyone deserves a day where people get to celebrate him, it’s James Buchanan Barnes.

But he doesn’t make much of his birthday. He doesn’t like attention when he hasn’t earned it.

It’s why he loves the mound, standing there under stadium lights with all eyes on him, but loathes things like this - birthdays, personal praise, anything that forces him into a spotlight just for existing. You suppose that’s just part of who he is.

You saw him earlier, in university. You shared one class today. He walked in a few minutes late, baseball cap pulled low, backpack slung lazily over one shoulder.

You had been waiting for him, barely able to contain your excitement as you nearly launched yourself at him in the hallway with a cheerful happy birthday, Bucky!

He had only blinked, slightly startled at your enthusiasm before huffing out a laugh when you crushed him in a tight hug. But he hadn’t complained, only chuckled softly, winding his arms around you and pressing his hands to your back, waiting for you to be the first to pull away again.

You told him he'd receive his present later the day with a grin and Bucky only rolled his eyes with a fond smile, letting you have your moment.

But what Bucky doesn’t know is that there is a surprise party awaiting him later, planned by you and your shared group of friends - because somebody has to make sure that today doesn’t pass like it is just another day.

Sam’s apartment is the only logical choice, given that his roommate dropped out and no one had rushed to fill the space yet. That means lots of room, plus an open invitation to make a mess.

The only issue is that Sam’s apartment is directly across the hall from Bucky and Steve’s.

Which means you have been assigned a very specific task - keep Bucky in his apartment until it’s time.

Not that you had much say in the matter. The moment the question came up about who would be the one distracting him that long, every pair of eyes landed on you.

You are his best friend, but - and that’s how you see it - so is everyone else. Still, they seemed to believe that you could hold his attention for long enough, that you could keep him engaged enough not to notice the shuffle of footsteps and suspicious voices beyond his door. That it would be you who he doesn’t mind having around, lingering in his space.

Honestly, you didn’t argue.

There is not a reason as to why you should. Any excuse to spend time with Bucky is a good one.

After all, you love the guy. But that’s a problem for another day.

You drop your bag on the worn-out armchair by the window, the same spot you always claim when you are here.

Bucky’s jacket is slung over the back of the chair, and the second your bag lands on it, the scent of his cologne drifts up - clean, something woodsy, something him. It distracts you for a second, but then you turn to face him again.

He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans after closing the door again.

“Where’s Steve?” you ask casually, like you don’t already know he is across the hall, making sure everything is set up for the surprise. But you don’t know what he told Bucky.

“He said somethin’ about running some drills with the rookies, helping out the coach, or whatever,” Bucky answers, tilting his head in that unconcerned way. He slowly makes his way toward you. “Guess one of them nearly took his own damn head off trying to hit a curveball.”

One of your brows lifts amused. “And Steve’s the guy to fix that?”

Bucky smirks. “Well, y’know how he is. Someone fucks up a throw, suddenly he’s gotta be the one to teach ‘em how to do it right.” He shakes his head, like the whole thing is ridiculous.

“Yeah, sounds like Steve,” you state, trying to suppress a knowing smile.

You lean your hip against the kitchen counter, arms loosely crossed, trying to keep it casual. The apartment is small, with the kitchen bleeding into the living space, a single couch, and a coffee table taking up a lot of the room. You love it.

“So, what do you feel like doing?” You tip your head toward him. “You’re the birthday boy, you get to decide.”

Bucky scoffs, lips curling, finding your antics amusing. But then, he actually seems to consider it. His hands slip from his pockets, arms crossing as he leans back slightly against the table. His gaze falls to the window. Sunlight spills in, casting golden lines across the floor and making your hair gleam.

“You wanna go get some ice cream or somethin’?” he suggests. “It’s warm out.”

You blink, caught off guard. Bucky isn’t usually the one to propose going out. It takes a little coaxing most days, a push to get him moving and leave his apartment to meet your group of friends somewhere outside. You wonder what he would have said if anyone else were the one distracting him.

But you can’t take him up on it. Because you can’t let him leave and potentially find out.

“Uh-no,” you say, a little too quickly, a little too firmly.

Bucky’s brows lift, a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth. “No?” He huffs a laugh, shifting his weight onto one foot, arms still folded. His voice takes on that slow, teasing drawl. “You just asked me what I wanna do, doll. Thought I got to decide? Y’know, birthday and all that.”

You just started this distracting thing and you are already messing up. Great.

You scramble for a way to walk it back, to keep him here without making it obvious. “Yeah, you know, I just-” You glance around as if the answer is hidden somewhere in the room. “Why don’t we stay inside?”

Bucky watches you, eyes narrowing just slightly, trying to puzzle you out. He doesn’t look suspicious. But there is a curiosity in it.

“Why?” he drags the word out, tilting his head. “Something wrong with ice cream? We could also go get some tacos maybe-”

“No! Nothing’s wrong with ice cream.” You force a laugh, waving your hand dismissively. “I just figured we could chill here for a bit.” You bite your lip, then continue. “We could bake you a cake?”

You would love to face-palm yourself right now.

Why would you even say that?

There will be plenty of cake at the party. Cake that’s already been ordered, picked out, baked yourself, and waiting across the hall. And yet, here you are, offering something completely unnecessary, completely ridiculous.

God, you are terrible at this.

Bucky’s blue eyes are on you, considering, lips parting, about to say something.

Panic rises.

“Or not,” you blurt, stepping forward too fast, too sudden, hands coming up in a vague, dismissive gesture. “Yeah, maybe not. That’s dumb. Forget I said anything.”

You shift where you stand, fingers twitching at your sides. You don’t get nervous around Bucky - at least, not like this. But something hot and uncomfortable starts to creep up the back of your neck.

A slow smirk pulls at Bucky’s mouth as he watches you with so much amusement in his eyes, enjoying whatever the hell this is turning into.

“You alright over there, doll?” he asks, voice warm, teasing.

You scoff, rolling your eyes, trying to keep your cool. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” He tilts his head, a lock of dark hair falling into his eyes. “Cause you’re actin’ a little funny.”

You open your mouth, a retort or something like it ready, but Bucky suddenly leans in just a fraction, gaze sweeping over your face like he is searching for something. And yeah shit, you need to shut this down. Now. Or you’ll be a hot mess on the floor.

“Just forget it.” You shrug and then move away from him, toward the fridge, suddenly very interested in whatever’s inside. “You want something to drink?”

You don’t look back at him immediately, don’t give him a chance to see the way you feel your face warm up. Instead, you grab two small bottles of orange juice, shoving one in his direction as a distraction.

Bucky takes it easily, but that amused smirk does not waver a tiny bit. He is still watching you.

Bucky is no idiot. And if you’re not careful, he’s going to catch on fast.

You twist the cap of the bottle a little forcefully, the plastic groaning in your grip. The cold of it seeps into your palm, but it’s not enough to steady the way your heart is beating a little too fast. Taking a sip of the juice, you try to swallow past the lump in your throat.

He has always been observant. Even more so when it comes to you. You wish, just this once, that he'd be a little more dense.

“You gonna tell me what’s up with you today?” he asks, voice colored with curiosity, dipping just enough into concern that you flinch internally.

“I don’t owe you an explanation.”

It’s defensive, but all it does is amuse him. His lips curve, his brows shoot high, the lines on his forehead creasing in exaggerated surprise.

Leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest, his own bottle loosely held in one hand, he tips his head back and studies you. “That how we’re playin’ it, huh?”

You shrug, taking another sip of your juice, using the movement as an excuse to break eye contact. But you know it does not deter him.

Bucky makes a thoughtful noise, shifting his weight. “Y’know,” he drones out, tone lazy but eyes sharp and smirk sly. “Usually when people get all cagey like this, it means they’re hidin’ something.”

You shoot him a hopefully flat look. “Wow, Barnes. That’s some real detective work. You want to get a notepad? Maybe a magnifying glass?”

His smirk widens. He seems thoroughly entertained. You don’t like it.

“Depends,” he teases, leaning in just a fraction. “Do I need ‘em?”

Your pulse spikes. Bastard.

With an obvious eye roll that unfortunately lacks the conviction you tried to portray, you cross the room, shoulders set, and let yourself drop into the armchair where your bag still rests with a heavy thud. The cushions soften the impact. Trying to feign the usual comfort you feel sitting here, you tuck one leg under the other, leaning back. Your hands tighten around the still cold bottle of juice.

Bucky doesn’t move right away. He is still standing by the counter, bottle in hand, eyes never leaving you.

“Do you want to watch something?” you ask, reaching for the remote, already trying to steer this back into safe waters.

Bucky exhales through his nose, humor lining the corners of his eyes. His stance is easy and relaxed, but he looks at you like he knows something is off.

“Is this me deciding?” he muses, voice smooth. “Or are you just gonna tell me no again?”

There is no accusation in his tone, just that familiar Brooklyn drawl that makes everything sound like an inside joke.

He finally moves, dragging his body toward the couch. He doesn’t plop down like you did. He settles himself with intent and leans forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, his entire focus trained on you like you are the most interesting thing in the room.

You swallow.

“You’ll get to decide,” you promise, trying for nonchalance.

Bucky glances at the dark TV screen, then back at you.

“Nah,” he claims. “Let’s talk.”

Your stomach drops.

Bucky never lets things go when he is curious. You see the spark in his eyes, the glint of amusement, the way the corners of his mouth twitch with that smirk. He knows you are acting weird. Maybe he doesn’t know why, but he sure as hell knows something is up and he is going to dig.

You inhale deeply, fighting the urge to groan. But all you do is force a casual shrug, stretching your arms over your head before letting them drop back into your lap. “What do you want to talk about?”

Your fingers fidget with the label on the bottle, a nervous little movement you don’t mean to make. Bucky’s gaze flickers down to your hands and you freeze, immediately stilling them, letting the bottle rest in your lap and shoving your hands between your thighs.

His eyes snap back to yours, lips curving up.

“You,” he says simply.

You roll your eyes, feigning playful annoyance, because if you don’t, you might actually combust on the spot. “Oh, come on,” you scoff.

For the next few minutes, you actually manage to let a conversation drift to normal things. The familiar back-and-forth. You talk about classes, you being annoyed at that one professor who has a habit of trailing off mid-lecture, forgetting what he is actually supposed to talk about. Bucky tells you about his brutal morning training session that left half the team groaning like old men.

You bring up his next baseball game, the one you won’t be able to make because of an assignment, and Bucky whines.

He doesn’t just complain a little but rather goes on about it for minutes on end. Arms flailing, huffing dramatically, groaning like you just told him his dog died.

“You could just skip,” he protests, lounging back into the couch.

“I can’t just skip, Bucky.”

“But I need my lucky charm,” he laments, throwing his head back against the cushion as if this is some great tragedy.

You roll your eyes but there is warmth rising in your chest. “I’m sorry, Buck. But I did come to all your games last month.”

“Yeah, which is why you owe me,” Bucky retorts, sitting up again, gesturing with his hands. “I hit a homer 'cause you were there. What if I suck without you?”

“I’m sure you’ll survive,” you laugh, but Bucky grumbles under his breath, not quite over it.

It starts to feel normal. Easy. You begin to believe that you might actually pull this off. That you can keep him here, keep him occupied, long enough for your friends across the hall to finish setting up.

But then a loud thump echoes from the hallway.

Your spine goes rigid.

Bucky’s head snaps up, his grin replaced with a furrowed brow.

Another thud.

Yeah, so, that was that.

You fumble for your phone and type out a quick text to Sam.

Y: What are you guys doing out there?

The reply comes almost immediately.

S: Just keep Barnes inside.

You would love to curse loudly right now. Because thank you for nothing, Sam.

Bucky is already standing.

“What are you doing?” you ask, standing up as well, your voice perhaps a little sharper than usual.

Bucky glances at you briefly. There is a tiny bit of concern in his eyes. “There’s something goin’ on out there.” He gestures toward the door. “Think I should check. Might be Miss Nelly.”

Something clenches in your gut.

Miss Nelly, the sweet older woman who lives next door to him and Steve. The one they always help carry groceries up the stairs. The one who has trouble with her hip sometimes. If Bucky thinks she might have fallen, or perhaps tried to carry something on her own, of course, he wants to check.

But that is not what is happening out there.

You rush to step between him and the door. “Let me check.”

Bucky shakes his head. “You wait here, doll. I’ll be back in a sec-”

But you don’t let him finish.

You throw the door open and basically slam it shut behind you before he can follow.

Yes, that was perhaps a little rude. Yes, that will probably only make him more suspicious. Yes, you could have come up with something better. But you certainly did not have the time to think about what exactly.

Right outside, Sam and Steve are standing there - in front of the open door to Sam's apartment where a chair lays with its backside on the floor - wide-eyed, looking about as guilty as two kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

You would have laughed at the sight if not for the fact that you just slammed Bucky’s own apartment door basically in his face without an explanation.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” you hiss, voice low, exasperated.

Sam lifts his hands in a calm down gesture. “Listen-”

“No, you listen,” you snap, whisper-shouting, barely resisting the urge to grab them by their collars and shake them. “He’s two seconds away from walking out that door.”

Steve grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck. “We, uh, we miscalculated.”

“Miscalculated?” you repeat, eyes narrowing.

They both exchange a glance.

You sigh in frustration. “Where’s Nat?”

“Out with Bruce getting drinks,” Steve answers, folding his arms. “Wanda, Clint, and Laura are inside, decorating.”

“Look,” Sam starts, raising a brow. “We’re bustin’ our asses for this dickhead, and you’re the one who came up with the whole thing in the first place.”

“That’s not-”

“So you gotta do your part. Go back in and stall him some more” A grin spreads across his face and he waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “I don’t know - offer him a good time.”

Your eyes narrow, hands on your hips. “Sam.”

Steve sighs, shaking his head, but there is an unmistakable smirk tugging at his lips.

You glare at them both, spinning on your heel before they can make this worse, yanking the door open and stepping back inside the apartment.

Bucky is exactly where you left him.

Arms crossed. Eyebrows raised. Lips parted slightly, caught between confusion and suspicion.

He is wearing that what the hell was that expression.

You swallow and shut the door more forcefully than necessary, the sound echoing slightly.

Bucky doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. Just fixes you with a stare so focused, so piecing, seemingly able to look right through you. It makes you shift where you stand, suddenly hyper-aware of every nervous tick in your body.

“Alright,” he starts slowly, carefully, eyes falling to the door before turning back to you. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Not Miss Nelly,” you quip, attempting a light and assuring tone.

It does not work.

Bucky still doesn’t blink. His jaw works. He doesn’t buy a damn thing you’re trying to sell him.

“No, doll.” His voice is lower now, thoughtful, putting together a puzzle in his head. “What’s going on with you?”

You try to press down the lump in your throat.

“You’re actin’ real weird.” His words aren’t harsh, not even accusing. Just observant.

He cocks his head slightly.

Why did the others think you could withstand the way his eyes root you to the spot without flopping down to the ground as a puddle.

You are so screwed.

You push yourself out of the conversation, walking over to the armchair again and trying to find something to keep you busy while plopping down.

“It’s nothing, Bucky.”

Your fingers curl around the juice bottle, bringing it to your lips, but the cold liquid doesn’t do much to cool the heat crawling up your spine. Your thumb works at the label, picking at the paper until it peels away in small, curling strips.

Bucky blows out a breath, rubbing a hand down his face before slowly making his way over to you.

Crouching in front of you, he braces his forearms on his knees, his eyes intently locked onto you.

The sudden closeness forces you to suck in a breath and your fingers tighten around the bottle in your hands.

His expression shifts again, humor creeping into the smirk on his mouth. “Doll,” he starts, voice light, amused. His hands slide up to rest on either side of your chair, effectively caging you in. “Did you plan somethin’ for me?”

Shit.

Your next inhale is a little hesitant. The air thickens. “No.” It sounds too stiff.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. He is smirking so wide. Enjoying this so much, the way you squirm in your seat before him.

You push forward, shaking your head. “No, Buck. I did not.”

“You sure?” He almost laughs.

“Yes, I just-” You are floundering, drowning in your own words. How can you save this now?

“I’m nervous.” Well, at least that’s not a lie.

Bucky’s expression softens immediately, his amusement fading into something quieter. He straightens up, tilting his head tenderly. His full attention is on you.

A gentle crease in his brows forms. “Why are you nervous, sweetheart?” His voice is softer now, lower.

And guilt hits you.

How do you get out of this?

But, hell, he is so close, too close. His eyes are so blue, too blue. His gaze is so intense, too intense. You are feeling hot, too hot - your brain isn’t working, it’s overheating, and your mouth is suddenly moving.

“Because.” Shut up, shut up, shut up. “Because I think we need to talk.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

The entirety of Bucky shifts and you just want the ground to eat you up right this second.

Because now he looks so worried. So genuinely concerned.

You feel yourself start to sweat. Where is this going? Why can’t you stop this? Why did you even start it?

Bucky’s face drops to a frown so deep, lines are forming. A hand of his moves, palm landing lightly on your knee.

“We can talk, doll.” His voice is even softer now, barely above a murmur. “Is something wrong? You alright?”

You just stare at him.

Your heart is hammering.

What the hell are you doing?

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as your fingers keep worrying at the torn label, peeling off strips that crumple beneath your fingertips. It’s the only thing you want to focus on right now with Bucky’s proximity and his intense gaze.

But then his hands replace the bottle and he grasps your fingers, wrapping around them and stilling their fidgeting.

Something electric rushes through your veins so quickly, you couldn’t catch it if you tried.

This is getting way too serious.

Too intimate in a way that sends your pulse skittering up your throat.

You feel like a deer caught in headlights, your body tensing up, lungs forgetting how to work properly. Because this is veering dangerously off course, heading straight for a conversation you’re not sure you’re ready to have. You never thought you’d ever be ready.

But you started this. You walked straight into it with your own words, and there is no backing out now. So you might as well be honest now.

No time like the present.

Bucky must feel the way your hands begin to tremble in his hold, because he adjusts again, shifting closer, his knees pressing against the base of your chair. His thumbs trace over the backs of your hands. His frown deepens.

Why does he have to be so worried? It would make things so much easier if he remained casual and easy. But really, that’s how Bucky always is. Worrying so fast when it comes to you. You can’t really blame this on him now, can you?

His voice drops lower, soft as a whisper. “What is it, sweetheart?” His eyes are full and searching. “Talk to me.”

Air hitches, stalling between your ribs before pushing forward in a rather trembling exhale. Your lungs barely feel full. Your eyes dart away from his, searching the room, the floor, anywhere but him.

“Did I upset you? Is it something I did-”

“No!” you rush out, hastily. “No, you didn’t do anything, Buck.” God, now he even goes that far. This is bad.

Bucky softens a tiny fraction, but he keeps sweeping his eyes over your face, latching on the details, trying to study you, trying to read what this is about. “You can tell me, doll. Always. Whatever it is,” he coos so sweetly, and it makes you want to cry.

How do you even start this?

You open your mouth. You’re certainly not ready to climb the whole mountain, but perhaps you can try a small hill.

“Do you-” You swallow, trying to sound as if you are simply reminiscing. “Do you remember that time after your game last year when it started pouring the second we left the stadium?”

Bucky blinks at the sudden turn. Confusion enters his features but the worry only deepens. “What?”

You push forward, gaze fixed on the arm of your chair as if it might give you the courage you need. “You gave me your jersey, even though I already had a jacket and you were the one soaking wet-”

Bucky’s brows pull further together, his head shaking slowly, not knowing what to do with your words. “Doll-”

“You walked me all the way back to my apartment.” Your voice turns quieter as if you are speaking more to yourself than him. Perhaps you are. Saying those things out loud makes them seem so much more important. “And then you got sick for three days.”

His hands squeeze yours gently. “I mean- Yeah, I remember.” Confusion also settles in his tone. “But what’s that got to do with-”

“I don’t know,” you cut in quickly. “I just-” You exhale a deep sigh. “I think about that a lot.”

Bucky says your name like it is something delicate. Something that might slip away if he is not careful.

“Look at me, please.”

You try, but it’s hard.

It means staring into those impossibly blue eyes that see too much, that strip you bare without even trying, that try to coax something out of you, you didn’t even plan on letting go.

But you force yourself to lift your gaze and it is worse than you expected.

He is watching you with an intensity that makes you stop breathing. His stormy eyes are so full of concern, so desperate to understand what is going on in your head, searching every inch of your face.

His lips are parted slightly. His breathing is sharper. Uneven.

“What’s going on, hm?” he coaxes, so softly, so full of patience you don’t deserve. “What’s this about? You still feelin’ guilty?”

Your heart plummets like a stone.

“Doll, there’s no need to, alright?” His hands squeeze yours, grounding, reassuring. “We talked about this.”

God, why does he have to be so good?

His voice is so warm. Warm like sunlight, like home. It makes the sting behind your eyes grow stronger.

You don’t want to cry.

You don’t want to feel this way. Don’t want to ruin his fucking birthday like this. This is getting so out of hand right now, but what should you do? You are so tangled up in trying to figure out what to say, things you are too much of a coward to finally admit out loud.

Bucky notices your struggles. He sees them. Plain on your face. His thumbs brush over your skin in careful strokes. “And you took such good care of me.” His tone lightens, trying to pull you out of whatever hole you’re sinking into. “Remember that part?”

You nod, swallowing and swallowing but the clump of emotions stays stuck in your throat. “Yeah.” Your voice comes out flat, like you are detached from it. “I do. Sorry for bringing it up.”

Bucky’s lips press together, and then he sighs so deeply, his chest rises and falls profoundly.

“Doll,” he murmurs, straightening up, arms beside you tensing as though he is holding himself back from doing something. “That’s not what you wanted to talk about.”

He’s right.

“Darlin’, please,” he urges, and god, the way that word falls from his lips makes you shudder. His voice is barely above a whisper now, full of something genuine, something tender, something that makes him sound like he wishes you would just talk to him, and it makes you want to shrink down to something he can’t see anymore. “What is it?”

You could lie. Again.

You could laugh it off, steer the conversation away, keep pretending.

You could drag this out further until the others are ready, leaving him worried and slightly upset.

You could tell him the truth about the party.

Or you could finally come clean about the feelings you have held in your heart for so long. Feelings for your best friend.

Drawing in a breath, you straighten slightly. Your hands, still held in his, still shaking, squeeze back. His eyes never waver from your face, tracing the contours of your features.

You clear your throat, but it doesn’t help much. “Uhm,” you croak. “I- I wanted- I need to tell you something.”

His fingers twitch around yours. His features fall into a deep concentration. He doesn’t rush you. Just watches. Waits.

And god, his eyes are pools you never learned to swim in.

You look away, at the wall behind him. “I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while now, I guess. But-” You inhale a quivering breath. “But I was afraid. Because I don’t know how you’ll react.”

Bucky doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. His chest rises and falls deeply, almost mechanically. There is something almost spellbound in the way he stares at you, completely locked in, completely yours. The only sign that he has heard you is the subtle press of his fingers against yours.

His head dips in a nod for you to go on.

You wet your lips. “I, uhm-”

But then something catches your attention.

The door to Bucky’s and Steve’s apartment opens.

Painstakingly slow.

You stiffen.

Bucky is still so enamored with what you were saying, he doesn’t seem to notice at first. His back is to the door.

You see heads peeking through the small gap, cautious, bodies frozen in an awkward crouch as if that makes them less noticeable.

Steve and Sam.

They are trying to slip in without a sound, their movements so unbelievably slow, exaggerated. They resemble cartoon characters sneaking through a heist.

Sam motions at you wildly, gesturing at Bucky, at himself, at the hallway, mouthing something like distract him! Keep him busy.

They almost make it, but Bucky catches the small reaction of you, the surprise. His senses are too tuned in to every little thing about you and with his brows knit together, he shifts to glance over his shoulder.

You don’t think about anything.

Your hands rip from his, and before he can turn fully, before he can see those two idiots, you grab his face.

Bucky jolts, startled, his breath hitching audibly. His skin is warm beneath your palms, the sharp angle of his jaw fitting perfectly against your hands. His wide eyes snap back to you, dumbfounded, searching.

He blinks at you. Then blinks again. Then simply stares.

His lips part slightly, breath brushing over your skin.

Your heart slams against your ribs.

This is close. Too close. Closer than you’ve ever been. Well, but not closer than you’ve let yourself imagine. But having him here in reality is something else entirely.

Sam throws you a thumbs up over Bucky’s head and a wiggle of his brows and the both of them disappear from sight into the hallway.

But you just made this worse.

And you are still holding his face between your hands.

Bucky’s lashes flicker, but he doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t fight it. Just stares at you like you’ve done something earth-shattering, like you’ve just rewritten every unspoken rule between you in a single, desperate motion.

Your pulse is a drum against your throat.

You see Bucky’s pulse thunder in his neck.

But he doesn’t move. You don’t move either.

He doesn’t breathe. You don’t know if you do.

He watches you. You watch him back.

“Doll?” Bucky practically breathes the question.

You swallow hard. Opening your mouth doesn’t help with finding words, so you shut it again. Slowly, you pull your hands away from his face.

But Bucky still doesn’t move.

His breath is still broken, his lips still parted, his brows still slightly drawn, stuck somewhere between surprise and something so deep, you’d be falling endlessly.

He is leaning in just the slightest bit, as though his body hasn’t quite caught up with his mind, not even realizing he is doing it.

And you hate the way your chest aches at the look in his eyes.

There is so much all at once and the more you stare, the harder it gets.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, dropping your gaze.

But there is movement in your peripheral.

Steve and Sam are creeping back out of the hallway, lugging something that looks like Bucky’s speaker system from his room.

And god help you, they are still moving at a snail’s pace, their motions so exaggerated, so painfully slow and obvious that you want to scream. You grit your teeth.

Fortunately, Bucky is still just staring at you, stunned.

The two are just about to reach the door, so close to getting through this ridiculous charade, when Sam’s end of the box bumps against the shoe shelf.

The sound isn’t loud, but it’s enough. Enough for Bucky’s head to instinctively turn toward the noise. Enough for his body to shift just slightly.

Your brain short-circuits.

Like completely.

Totally.

Lacking any sense.

Not only do you pull his face back.

You pull it in.

“Kiss me,” you blurt, and it’s not soft, not sweet, not anything carefully planted - it’s desperate, panicked.

Bucky’s whole face just goes wide, pure shock filtering out anything else.

Another bump.

You’re not sure Bucky even heard it, but your lips crash onto his with urgency.

Bucky freezes.

And when you say freeze, you mean freeze.

Every muscle in his body turns to stone. His hands flex before going rigid, floating in the air. His breath stalls. His spine goes straight, and the grunt he lets out - so low and gravelly, caught deep in his throat - reverberates into your mouth.

But behind him, Steve and Sam go as still. Dead silent.

You can feel them watching, their eyes practically bulging out of their skulls.

For a full few seconds, nothing happens.

But then, there is a shift. You don’t see it, but you know it. The way their disbelief turns into something smug - something amused and downright delighted. You feel the way Sam’s mouth probably stretches into that toothy and knowing, cocky-ass grin. You feel the way Steve simply looks happy.

You don’t pull away.

Instead, you wave one frantic hand behind Bucky’s back, motioning wildly, trying to get them to move.

You open an eye to see them still staring, Steve blinking rapidly, Sam grinning like a fool, nudging Steve.

But then, finally, they start creeping out of the room again.

They are gone now.

Bucky still isn’t moving.

He’s not breathing.

He’s not reacting.

And the tension stretches so tight, you swear the air could snap in half.

Because this isn’t just a distraction anymore.

This isn’t just a cover-up.

Your lips are still on Bucky’s.

Your hands are still gripping his face.

And his are trembling where they hover near your knees, as if he wants to touch you, wants to move, but his brain is still struggling to catch up with what is happening.

Then the tension snaps.

Bucky exhales against you.

It’s not just a breath - it’s a surrender. A sharp and shuddering exhale that stirs against your lips, warm and tentative, as if he is trying to feel what is happening, trying to understand the shape of this moment.

His hands flex and twitch against your legs, but he is hesitant, as if waiting for something, waiting for you to pull back, waiting for this to be some kind of mistake.

But you don’t pull back.

You don’t want to pull back.

And that’s when he melts.

He sinks into the kiss, his body softening, folding inward toward you. His fingers slide up your legs, brushing tenderly against the fabric of your pants before settling on your hips, cautious, like he doesn’t want to break the moment, doesn’t want to take too much.

Then, his lips move. It’s a slow, searching motion, testing the waters, trying to figure you out. His mouth is warm, his lips so much softer than you imagined. And hell, did you imagine.

He makes a sound - low and unsure, a hum deep in his throat that vibrates against your lips. His movements are careful, almost disbelieving. Like he is afraid this will disappear if he lets himself want it too much.

But then something changes.

Your nails lightly run over his neck, thumbs over his jawline.

And you feel the exact second the hesitation snaps.

He pulls you in.

His hands tighten, fingers digging into your hips, pulling you forward to the edge of the seat, into his chest, his grip growing needy, desperate. He seems to have been starving for this, like something in him has just broken loose.

The kiss turns deeper, heavier, a push and pull of breath and movement. He kisses you with searching urgency, trying to memorize the exact shape of your mouth, the way you feel pressed against him, the way you taste.

His lips part, just for a moment, and then he dares to press in a little more, tilting his head, fitting his mouth more firmly against yours.

He makes another sound - this time rougher, needier - a groan that slips through the space between you.

You can feel the want in the way he kisses you, in the way he angles his head to take more, to taste more, and damn if it does not overwhelm you.

The way his fingers tighten their hold, his thumbs brushing just beneath the hem of your shirt, needing to feel your warmth.

And the way he breathes you in, each exhale shaky, each inhale sharper, like he is drunk on this, on you.

Your hands find purchase in his hair, fingers tangling in the strands at the nape of his neck, and the second you pull just so slightly, he makes a sound.

A gravelly noise that shoots straight through you, heat curling at the base of your spine.

He is kissing you like he can’t help it anymore. As if he has been waiting for this exact moment, for you, for so long that he’s past the point of fighting it.

You thought he’d pull away. You thought he’d startle and demand an explanation, eyes sharp with suspicion, voice laced with confusion. But he doesn’t.

His lips only press more firmly against yours, his nose sweeping against your cheek, his chest rising and falling unevenly, breathing erratic as if he is just as lost in this as you are.

Your heart is hammering so violently in your chest, you think he must hear it, must feel it where your body is pressed to his. Your hands are slightly trembling, sliding to curl into the fabric of his shirt, holding onto him. Because you have to hold on. You have to anchor before you fall, before you slip too deep into the intoxicating pull of him and lose all sense of self.

But maybe you already have.

Because he is kissing you as though he’s afraid this is a dream, testing the edges of reality with every careful, exploring movement of his tongue and lips.

He tastes like something warm, something safe, something like the orange juice you two have been drinking, something wholly Bucky. Every press of his lips, every brush of his tongue against yours, is stealing a coherent thought from your mind.

This was supposed to be a distraction. This was supposed to be a lie.

But hell, it’s not.

It’s everything you’ve ever wished for.

When you pull away, both breathless and panting, his forehead stays against yours.

Your pulse is so fast, so fluttering, and you know he can feel it, the way it thrums in your chest, in your throat, in the slight tremor of your fingers still curled loosely in his shirt.

His hot and shuddering exhale fans over your lips and it’s maddening how much you want to taste them again, how much you want to fall right back into him.

You open your eyes.

His are already on you, so close, so intent, so devastatingly blue that they don’t help at all in trying to regain a healthy breathing rate. There is something in them, something soft and devoted, something awed, like he can’t quite believe you are real, that this is real.

A shiver works its way down your spine, leaving goosebumps in its way and Bucky sees it. He feels it. His grin widens, slow and boyish almost, something that makes him look young and light, like something is lifted off his shoulders.

Your name is a breath that leaves his lips with the kind of care reserved for wishes made on falling stars.

It sends another shudder through you, and his grin turns brilliantly wide.

“That the present you were talkin’ about earlier?” he breathes, voice still hoarse, still dazed.

You huff a laugh, shaking your head. Smiling. Grinning. Like a fool. God, you can’t stop. It’s lifting your cheeks and making you feel giddy in a way you haven’t felt in so long.

“No,” you whisper back, voice airy.

“Don’t matter,” Bucky’s voice is full of affection, of something certain. His hands slide up, one cupping your jaw, thumb skimming over your cheek, the other finding the nape of your neck, fingers weaving into your hair. Holding you there. Holding you close. “Best damn present I’ve ever gotten.”

His tone is so sincere, so full of adoration, that your breath turns upside down, and you can’t do anything but feel the way butterflies are dancing in your stomach.

Heat floods your face and Bucky’s fingers flex against your skin, his smile turning impossibly brighter.

His eyes are shining with something you don’t think you’ve ever seen in them before. It’s breathtaking. It’s promising. It’s worshipful.

It’s everything.

You guess you owe him a little bit of an explanation.

There is guilt pooling in the hesitation before you speak. “Buck?” you start, voice quiet.

“Yeah, baby?” he drawls, and the way the new nickname rolls from his tongue so seamlessly makes your next inhale shatter midway, breaking into uneven pieces. You almost feel like choking.

His voice is so full of warmth, so soft, so fond. He is smiling at you and his eyes are sparkling as if you’ve just handed him the world. He is kneeling in front of you, patient and content, as though he’s got all the time in the world if it means spending it with you.

Something dizzying rushes through your veins, sparking at the base of your spine. You have to take a moment, a single, shaky pause to shove the giddiness down for later, to not let it explore the wide landscape of your heart and mind.

You clear your throat, shifting slightly in your seat, still at the edge of the armchair. Your chest almost brushing against Bucky’s. “I, uh- I do have something planned for you.”

Bucky is beaming. His amusement spills over into something so brilliant and blinding. His entire face lights up, so open, so full of adoration that it makes a feeling of pure bliss explode in your chest, sending delightful shivers down to your toes and hell, you don’t think you can handle it.

“Oh, do you?” he muses, dragging the words out slow and teasing. There is something beneath the syrupy sweetness. Something like mischief. His brows raise, eyes glinting, his lips twitch, and you know he is about to be a menace.

Tilting his head, Bucky feigns deep thought, but his eyes stay on you at all times. “Would that involve two idiots tryna sneak around behind my back?”

You blink at him.

Bucky’s grin turns wolfish and he bites his lip to suppress a laugh.

“You were actin’ all off from the beginning, doll. Knew somethin’ was up,” he states, voice a little softer, until he turns on his playful teasing voice again. “Flawless execution, sweetheart. Didn’t notice a damn thing.”

Groaning loudly, you press your hands to your face and Bucky lets the laugh out. It’s full-bodied and wholehearted. His chest shakes, his shoulders lift, his body tilts into it. And it’s such a good sound, such a lovely sound, so rich and free. It makes your own lips curl despite the frustration of the ruined surprise.

Bucky reaches up to gently pry your hands away from your face. His grip lingers, thumbs tracing over your knuckles, his touch so easy and natural.

His expression gives way to something soft. He bites his lip again, before bringing your hands up and kissing them softly, twinkling bright blue eyes trained on you and the deep flush that spreads along your cheeks.

Perhaps Bucky Barnes finally has a reason to start celebrating his birthday.

“But oh baby! Your smile.. Felt like warm sunshine after a heavy storm.. Overdose of it, is still not enough for me..”

- Zankhana

[vbecker10]

I Kissed Her

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N) established relationship

Summary: Bucky went on a short mission and when he comes home he's distant and anxious which makes you nervous that something horrible happened in the field. You reassure him that he can talk to you and he opens up about how he needed to pretend he was married to his ex girlfriend, Natasha, for their mission and he kissed her.

Warnings: angst... Bucky feeling guilty and feeling like he cheated (but he didn't, it was purely for their cover story), Bucky being afraid you won't want to be with him anymore, Natasha being a horrible and petty person (sorry, that just sort of happened but I usually really like her)... fluffy ending 😊

A/N: I'm sorry for this one but I'm pretty stressed out from life so you're getting Bucky angst 💚 This is a spin on the fake marriage scenario while on a mission so I hope everyone likes it!

Your phone goes off and you read the automated notification from SHIELD for all nonessential personnel to clear the landing area for the incoming jet. Jumping up from the couch, you grab your phone and slip on your shoes. The only jet that was out was the one Bucky, Steve and Natasha had taken for their mission. You pull your door shut and call Bucky, groaning impatiently as you listen to it ring over and over.

Bucky's been gone for three days and two long nights. Unfortunately, you hadn't been assigned as an analyst for that mission so you weren't told where he was going or when he'd return. All you know is that you miss your boyfriend and you can't wait to see him again.

Bucky finally answers as you are deciding if you should hang up and text him. "Hi," he says with little enthusiasm which causes your smile to falter slightly but you try not to let it affect your mood. You know he's probably tired, he never sleeps well when he's away and neither do you.

"Hey Bucky," you say cheerfully, hoping your excitement will be contagious, "I heard the jet landed so I was hoping that meant you were home."

"Yeah, we just got in," he answers and you can hear people talking in the background. "Sorry I didn't text you." You get into the elevator and push the button for his floor.

You're anxiety rises as you begin to worry if he didn't want you to know he was back home yet for some reason. Typically, Bucky would text or call you as soon as possible to let you know he was on his way back and he couldn't wait to see you.

"Can I come by to say hi?" you ask unsure of his mood or what's affecting it. "I'm sure you're tired but I really missed you."

"Sure," he agrees to letting you visit.

You wait for him to tell you he missed you over the last few days but when he doesn't you ask, "Bucky are you okay?"

"Yeah," he mumbles. "Sorry, just a lot on my mind from the mission."

"Okay, I'll be there in a minute," you tell him.

"Okay," he responds then ends the call before saying goodbye.

You look down at your phone as your heart beats faster in your chest. Something really horrible must have happened while they were on the mission, you can't help but think. Bucky didn't sound like himself and it worried you immensely.

You knock on his door and it opens immediately, he takes a step back to let you in. As soon as you are inside, you put your arms around Bucky without saying a word and the super soldier hugs you back tightly, almost as if he will never let go. The two of you stay like that silently for a few moments, you close your eyes and try to relax as you listen to his breathing. He leans down to kiss your forehead lightly but before you can return the kiss, he releases you from the hug and takes a step away.

"Bucky..." you start and his eyes drop to the floor, there's no hiding how anxious he looks. His metal hand flexes slowly and you ask him, "What's wrong? Did something happen on the mission?"

He nods a little at your second question and your mind races as you close the distance he created between you both, "Did Steve get hurt?"

"Steve and Natasha are fine," Bucky answers and you breath a little easier. You know important Steve is to him as a friend but you honestly you hadn't even thought something might have happened to Natasha too. Even with all the awkward tension between you and the spy, you were glad she was okay also. If no one was hurt, what else could have happened, you wonder to yourself.

"I need to shower then we can talk, okay?" he asks and you nod then he adds, "I don't want you to hear about any of this from her."

"I'll be here when you're ready," you offer him a small smile to reassure him you aren't going anywhere. You stand by his front door as he turns and walks into his room, closing the door. Letting out a nervous sigh, you take a seat on his couch and hold one of the pillows tightly to your chest as you look around his living room. Your focus settles on a picture of the two of you sitting on his end table from when you first started dating six months ago. A smile starts to spread across your lips when you remember how much fun you had at Bryant Park with him that day but then his words echo in your mind.

'I don't want you to hear about any of this from her,' he told you. He obviously meant Natasha but what was he talking about?

Natasha all but refuses to speak to you unless it is specifically about official SHIELD business and you are more than fine with that. His ex girlfriend has made no attempt to hide how much she dislikes you or your relationship with Bucky. The spy still blames you for Bucky leaving her even though you had barely known him when he ended their year long relationship. You and Bucky didn't begin dating until a few months later but you were never quite able to escape the numerous rumors that spread through the Tower. Bucky ignored all the gossip easily enough but you found it harder to shake the accusing whispers that you started your relationship with Bucky before he ended things with Natasha.

You lift your head when you hear his door open and watch quietly as Bucky sits next to you on the couch. His hair is still wet and he tucks it behind his ear when he looks at you. Bucky's eyes met yours and he says, "I know I need to tell you what happened but I'm afraid you'll hate me."

Your heart beats faster and you ask, "Why would I hate you?" He looks down and you move closer to him, taking his right hand in yours.

He shakes his head instead of answering you and squeezes your hand, "You know how much I love you, right Y/N?"

"I love you too," you tell him then take a deep breath and force yourself to ask, "But are you breaking up with me? Cause this feels-"

"What? No!" he says quickly as he cuts you off. "I'm just scared you're going to leave me when I tell you what happened with Natasha."

"I don't understand..." you start then bite your lip as your mind begins to put together the very few pieces you have. Bucky was away on a mission with his ex girlfriend and now he's distant and nervous and afraid you're going to hate him, you think as you grip the pillow next to you tightly. Natasha flirted with him every chance she could, you had seen it yourself dozens of times because she seemed to really enjoy doing it right in front of you. Had he finally given in while he was away on the mission?

"Bucky," you clear your throat and try to prepare yourself to ask something you never thought you'd have to ask him. "Did you cheat on me with Natasha?"

He sighs deeply and you fight to hold back the tears you can feel wanting to fall. "I don't know," he says and you look at him in confused silence. "No, I mean... I don't think so but-"

"You don't know!?" you ask harshly, unable to contain the mixture of emotions that flood through you. In an instant you feel hurt, betrayed, confused, angry and so many other things you can barely think straight. You pull your hand free from his and stand up, "How could you not know? You either did or you didn't."

"It's complicated," he says as he looks up at you from the couch. "Please, just let me explain," he reaches up and takes your hand.

You let his metal fingers grip your hand gently as he pulls you back down on the couch. "Fine," you mumble and quickly wipe away a single stray tear that runs down your cheek.

"I didn't tell you I was back yet because I needed to think-" he starts to explain.

"Of an excuse for cheating on me?" you interrupt him and let go of his metal hand.

"No," he shakes his head. "Just..." he sighs deeply, "Just listen please? I want to tell you everything."

You nod and sit facing him with your arms crossed over your chest. You can't imagine what he could possibly tell you that would make the feelings swirling inside of you go away but you're willing to hear him out.

He starts at the beginning, "We went to Germany, SHIELD found a high stakes poker game that a lot of high ranking Hydra officers attend on Friday nights. Natasha, Steve and I went undercover using those nanotech masks from Stark."

You look at him quietly, waiting for him to get to the point.

"Agent Hill worked up a cover story to get us in the game," he explains. "I was a wealthy arms dealer from Romania, Steve was my bodyguard and Natasha was my wife. We were just supposed to gather information, see who was there so SHIELD could decide who to go after next."

"Okay..." you say as he rubs his hands together nervously and describes every detail of the mission.

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

Steve knocks four times rhythmically on the metal door and waits for the small window to slide open. "Hail Hydra," he whispers to the dark figure who slams the window shut then opens the door. Bucky let's out a small sigh of relief knowing the previously gathered intelligence was correct.

Natasha smiles up at Bucky, holding onto his arm as they walk through the door followed closely by Steve. Steve looks around the room, his dark sunglasses capturing images of everyone he sees and sending the information back to analysts at SHIELD. The three of them are greeted by a well known Hydra officer, Captain Marc Burwell, and are escorted to a poker table in the middle of another, much less crowded room.

"Your wife can wait in the other room," Burwell says to Bucky as he unbuttons his black suit jacket and takes a seat at the table.

"She stays with me," Bucky responds with a smirk. "She's my good luck charm."

Burwell's attention shifts to the plunging neckline of Natasha's dress when she leans down to place a soft kiss on her fake husband's cheek. "If I had a wife that looked like yours, I'd never let her out of my sight either," the man chuckles as his eyes roam over the spy's body. Her long, shimmery black dress reveals a high slit when she moves to sit on Bucky's lap sideways, her arm resting around his neck.

Bucky looks up at the man, his jaw tightening, "Keep looking at my wife like that and I'll remove your eyes myself."

Natasha giggles and plays with her necklace, adjusting the pendant as it connects to the numerous cell phones in the room. Steve takes a step forward, standing just behind Bucky as he folds his arms and stares at the now very nervous captain. He clears his throat and apologizes before excusing himself quickly.

The dealer takes his position at the head of the table and the rest of the players sit around Bucky. He checks his watch to ensure it's transmitting the conversations of those close to him as the first hand is dealt.

"Good luck baby," Natasha says as he picks up his cards and he smiles in return. She kisses his cheek again, this time leaving a light lipstick mark and she wipes it away, "Oops."

He clears his throat and whispers, "They already bought that we're married, you can ease up with the kisses." He moves his free hand so it barely rests on her lower back while Steve stands behind him in silence.

"Come on baby," Natasha whispers in response. "Hold me like you want me, like you used to."

Bucky chuckles as if she said something flirtatious and runs his fingers up and down her back slowly. He looks at her as if to ask if that was better and in response, she presses her lips to his then rests her head on his shoulder.

He tries to ignore the kiss, focusing instead on the cards in his hand and the bets being placed. SHIELD wasn't too concerned about Bucky winning or losing so long as the information was gathered but he needed to at least keep up with the other players. While he waits for the players to place their bets, his mind wanders to his previous relationship with Natasha.

It had started purely because they were paired together so often on missions. Pretending to date or be married to each other over and over had convinced them that a real relationship would work. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case and it took Bucky a long time to voice how unhappy he was to Natasha. She was dismissive and ignored his concerns which finally caused him to leave her. It was the best decision he could have made, because he found someone a few months later who truly made him happy, you.

Serval uneventful hands later, Bucky orders a drink from the waitress as his fingers trace small circles on the exposed skin of Natasha's arm. The quiet woman places his drink on the table in front of him but he makes no move to pick it up as he examines his cards. Natasha smirks and lifts the glass to Bucky's lips, "Here baby."

"Thanks sweetheart," Bucky says with a smile as he cringes internally after he takes a drink. He had always hated when she called him 'baby' while they were dating. He wasn't sure why he didn't like it but he had asked her not to do it several times and she never listened.

Without warning, Natasha presses her lips to his and for a moment he forgets they are pretending to be married. Bucky pulls back slightly to separate from her but she only smiles in response, running her fingers through his hair while her other fingers trace the rim of his glass.

"Need another drink?" she asks and he nods, not wanting to draw the attention of the others at the table. Natasha lifts the drink to his lips again then just as she pulls it away, she kisses him again.

Bucky closes his eyes and kisses her back, unsure of what else to do in the moment. His mind fills with images of you but he can't trick himself into thinking you're here instead of Natasha. When she finally breaks the long, deep kiss she giggles and places the empty glass back on the table.

He's unable to focus and folds his cards then plays two more hands, losing both. At the end of each hand, Natasha kisses him and he's forced to kiss her back to keep their cover in tact. After the two loses, Bucky wins a large pot and he reaches across the table to gather all of his chips with a smirk. When he sits back in his seat, his fake wife presses her lips to his in celebration.

As the dealer is shuffling, Steve receives word through his ear piece that SHIELD has enough information. He taps Bucky's shoulder and leans down to whisper that they can leave, sending a wave of relief through him.

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

"I couldn't wait to get back on the jet and see you again," he says, finally looking up at you.

"But you didn't call or text me," you remind him.

"I know..." he pauses. "Like I said, I was trying to think."

"About what?" you ask.

"About if what I did was wrong or not," he says and you realize he was being serious when he said he didn't know if he cheated. "Natasha sat with me in the back of the jet while Steve flew us home," he explains. "She asked me if I wanted to continue where we left off then tried to sit on my lap again. When I told her no, she got really upset. She told me she couldn't wait to tell you how much fun the mission was and by the time she was done you would never forgive me."

"But... you didn't do anything," you tell him.

"I kissed her," he says with a sigh.

"Right, but you only did it because you had to," you remind him gently.

He nods quickly and you move closer to him on the couch, taking his hand and he squeezes it. "I know it was just for our cover story but she got in my head while we were coming home. Natasha kept telling me I kissed her like I used to when we were dating and that she could feel how much I still cared for her," he says.

"You still-" you start to ask and almost pull your hand free from his but he keeps his fingers intertwined with yours.

"No," he cuts you off before you can finish your sentence. "No, Y/N, I don't have any feelings for her. I haven't since before you and I started dating, you know that," he assures you and you nod. "It was just something she was going to tell you to drive a wedge between us." He sighs and mumbles under his breath, "I think Steve's right, I'm an idiot."

You can't help but agree, "You are an idiot."

He looks up at you but doesn't say anything.

"Bucky," you cup his cheek, still holding his hand tightly. He breaths deeply, preparing himself for the worst when you smile and his eyes fill with confusion. "You got me all stressed out and nervous because your ex girlfriend is crazy," you say at you breath a little easier. "I already knew that."

"I... what?" he asks.

You let out a little laugh at his reaction, "Did you want to kiss her?"

"No," he answers quickly.

"Did you enjoy kissing her?" you ask.

"No," he answers again and shakes his head.

"Do you wish you were with her instead of me?" you already know the answer to that one but you want to prove a point.

"Absolutely not," Bucky lifts your hand and kisses the back of it.

"So that means..." you start and give him a second to catch up.

He smiles a little, "It wasn't cheating?"

"I don't think it counts," you tell him honestly. "It's like if you were an actor and had to kiss someone for a role. You were just doing your job, right?"

You watch him breath a heavy sigh of relief, "That's what Steve said when we landed. He was listening to pretty much everything she said and he told me I really needed to talk to you before she did."

"I think you need to listen to Steve more often," you tell him and he nods.

"I'm sorry," he says and you move closer to cuddle against him. He wraps his arms around you and you feel him relax for the first time since he left.

"It's okay, I still love you," you look up at him with a smile.

He smiles in return, "I hope so because I love you more than anything." He leans down to kiss your lips, cupping your cheek lightly. You close your eyes and kiss him back, running your fingers through his damp hair.

When you pull away, you tell him, "That doesn't mean I'm thrilled about this whole thing. I mean, I understand why you had to do it... I just really wish it had been anyone else. Natasha doesn't seem like she's going to give up on trying to ruin our relationship any time soon."

"She probably won't but honestly I don't think it's because she wants me back," he says. "I think she just hates that we're happy."

You rest your head on his shoulder, "Just keep being honest with me like this and we'll be okay. Maybe... phrase things a little better?"

He chuckles and nods, "I'll have Steve prep what I should say for next time."

You giggle, "Next time you should just pretend you and Steve are married and she's your bodyguard."

He smiles and plays with your hair, "I'll ask Agent Hill about that."

"Wait, really?" you ask sitting up a little.

He laughs, "No. I'm not kissing Steve."

"Lame," you smile and kiss him again.

"I'm sorry," he says with a smile, keeping his arms around you tightly. "Can you stay the night? I can never sleep without you."

"I think I can do that," you agree easily.

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

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[d3v1ls4dvocat3]

Doomed

James “Bucky” Barnes x Fem! Reader Smut

Summary: When Bucky notices the new neighbor, he can’t seem to get her out of his head! Whatever will he do?

W.C: 1600

Tags: Smut!, pervert! Bucky, panty thief! bucky, guilty bucky?, mentions of lingerie, AFAB! Reader, age gap but it’s not specified, male masturbation, breast fixation, nipple fixation, p in v? kinda? it doesn’t actually happen, Bucky POV, mentions of steve, mentions of war and Buck being the Winter Solider

MDNI!! Let me know if I missed anything!!

He remembers the exact day you moved into the apartment across the hall.

It was only a few days before the new year. Everyone on the floor had seemingly left to be with family, not that he bothered to keep track of his neighbors whereabouts, but he had noticed the overall lack of people when he made the unfortunate trip out of his apartment to see his therapist every other day.

That made your appearance even more noticeable.

Bucky liked to keep track of everyone he saw day-to-day anyway, it helped calm his nerves (rather he told himself it calmed his nerves) and luckily enough for him, you didn’t want to stop and introduce yourself.

Over the next few weeks, he only saw you a handful of times. You both never said anything, barely even looked at each other. It was nice.

Of course, nothing lasts forever. His therapist was sure to tell him that, much to his distain. Strangely enough, it was on one of his trips coming back from another session with Dr. Raynor that he found you cursing to yourself standing outside your apartment.

A part of him wanted to just walk by, and avoid the headache altogether. But he could hear a quiet voice in his mind that sounded a lot like Steve telling him to man up and help a poor lady in need. He sighed mentally and cleared his throat to grab your attention.

You looked up with slight shock and embarrassment. “Oh.. uhm, I’m not in your way am I?” You asked.

He frowned. “No, sorry. You look like you’re having some trouble there?”

Your eyes seemed to light up. “Is it that obvious?”

Bucky chuckled lightly and stepped closer to you, offering a hand of assistance. You gladly handed him your key.

“This building is old. These keys get stuck all the time. You’ve gotta know how to turn it to get it to unlock,” Bucky said as he fidgeted with your lock.

You watched him with unwavering eyes. Unknowingly to you, he was watching you out of the corner of his eye. This was the first time he’d really gotten a good look at your face. You were young, way younger than anyone he’d talked to recently. Most likely a college student. You held yourself with confidence but not in a way that made you seem cocky. You just had a sense of determination he hadn’t seen in a long time.

It was refreshing. Reminded him of sunlight.

He immediately frowned at that thought and focused his attention on your lock. Within a moment a quiet ‘click’ sounded through the small hallway. Your face lit up with a smile so bright he almost had to look away.

“Oh my god, thank you! I seriously thought I was fucked there,” You exclaimed.

He nodded and stepped back. “No problem. You can come get me if it does it again. I’m pretty much always home.”

You smiled again, gentler this time. “I will. Seriously, thank you. I really appreciate it.”

He watched you escape into the comfort of your home. He smiled, unbeknownst to himself and turned to his own apartment.

Cute.

_____

The next time he saw you was only a few weeks later.

Since the door fiasco, Bucky couldn’t get you out of his head. He wasn’t sure why, but something about you was like a breath of fresh air. He felt almost addicted to it, to how he felt at that moment.

So when he opened the door to the laundry room he was understandably surprised to see you. He was also even more surprised to see you in nothing but pajama pants and a very very small tank top.

And no bra.

He was going to turn around. Laundry could wait. Just as soon as his hand hit the door knob, he heard an intake of breath.

“It’s you!”

He sighed.

Bucky turned back around and smiled. “It’s me.”

You were smiling that same damn smile. He felt weak in his knees.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” You said happily.

He nodded. “I don’t get out much.”

You hummed in understanding. “I get that. I’m still getting used to the city myself.”

It was quiet for only a moment, before you noticed Bucky’s small basket of laundry. You quietly moved over and motioned to the washing machine.

“I’m almost done with the dryer,” You said. Bucky muttered a quiet ‘thanks’ and began throwing his clothes into the washer. Once he was finished you both sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“I don’t think I ever got your name…?”

Bucky himself was surprised at the question that came from his mouth. You also seemed surprised for a second before grinning.

As you said your name, he watched your lips form the word. Your name fit you, he thought. He whispered it to himself, trying to commit it to memory. Although, he was sure just like everything else about you, he wouldn’t forget it.

“James,” He said in return.

“Nice to officially meet you, James,” You practically purred. He felt his knees go weak again. He feared that might be a common occurrence around you.

As the silence fell over you again, Bucky began to struggle with his most recent thoughts. He questioned why he was acting like a teenager with a crush again?

Bucky had been through more than twenty men combined. He’d done things so horrible he couldn’t even speak about it. He’d seen things that would make anyone want to commit suicide. So why, out of all things, was a girl making him feel so weak?

He quietly looked over at you again. He traced the outline of your figure. Your hair down to your eyelashes. His eyes moved to your lips, plump and wet from where you’d licked them while talking.

He continued trailing down until his eyes stopped on your breasts. He felt guilt wash over him immediately at the practically sinful sight before him. He could perfectly make out your tits. The cold air in the room had made your nipples perk up just enough to poke through the already thin tank top.

Bucky glanced away quickly as the buzzer from the dryer sounded. He turned slightly to hide his tightening pants. You bent over to grab your clothes and he practically called out to god to strike him dead right there before he made a fool of himself.

It felt like years before you were up again and leaving the room. Before you closed the door, you waved bye to him. Bucky had to force every once of what he’d learned as an assassin just to seem normal enough to wave back.

Once the door closed behind you, he groaned and put his face in his hands. He tried to calm his breathing, using some of the techniques Dr. Raynor had taught him in one of their very first sessions. It was probably close to ten minutes before he felt okay enough to remove his hands from his face.

Bucky needed to calm down. You were just a girl. There was absolutely no reason to be feeling like this.

He repeated that to himself as he took his clothes out of the washing machine. As he went to throw them into the dryer, a small bright red thing caught his eye.

He grabbed it before he could even process what it was. He held up the laced piece of clothing he wasn’t sure would cover anything and knew he was doomed.

“Fucking dirty girl…”

_________

He was a pervert.

He knew he was a pervert. He felt guilty and ashamed and terrible.

However,

The thought of you wearing nothing but those red laced panties and a matching bra had been plaguing Buck’s mind. He couldn’t stop. He’d tried. He’d done everything he could think of.

He’d taken a cold shower.

He’d gone for a run.

He even tried to watch some of the movies that Steve had written down in his journal of things he “absolutely needs to watch and listen to” or whatever the blond had said.

Nothing could get that image out of his head.

It was three in the morning when he was fed up and aching and he needed release. He hadn’t meant to grab them. He was simply caught up in the moment. His hand stroking up and down his cock. He moaned and stroked faster.

Once the soft fabric touched his tip, he had to stop himself from instantly cumming.

“Oh fuck…” He moaned. Bucky wrapped the thong tightly around his hand. In his mind, he imagined your hips rubbing up and down his hard on. Teasing him in every way you knew would rile him up.

“Something wrong, Barnes?”

He groaned. He was fucking up into his fist now. He imagined flipping you over, grabbing your hands with his metal one and using his other one to squeeze your breasts.

He imagined kissing down your stomach until he got to those red panties and slowly, sensually kissing down them until you were begging to feel him. Begging him to touch you.

“Say my fucking name, doll,” He moaned.

He imagined your hands wrapped around his back and he mercilessly pounded into you. He imagined your soft lips wrapped around his full length, with your bright eyes filled with tears as you looked up at him.

He cursed.

“Nice to officially meet you, James.”

Suddenly he was cumming into his fist. He continued to stroke his cock until he was spent. As he calmed down, he looked down to see the mess he’d made with your undergarments.

“Fuck.”

He was seriously doomed.

[honda-odyssey-the-queer-allegory]

Me anytime Bucky is mentioned

[fatbiatchforever]

Sleepless Nights

You turned to look at the time.

2.41 am

Five minutes since you last checked. 

You were tired and frustrated at your lack of sleep. How did people pass out in seconds? You thought about looking at your phone to google ways to fall asleep, but you knew you were thirty seconds away from accidentally opening TikTok and accidentally spending next three hours scrolling through it.

You hugged Bucky's pillow a little tighter. Maybe if he was here, you thought. You pressed your face into the pillow and counted imaginary sheeps. 

Around the fiftieth sheep, you heard something. It was so quite that you ignored it and went back to your sheeps. Your eyes shot open when you heard the click of the door and the thud on the floor. 

You jumped out of the bed and opened the door wider. You saw his silhouette across the dark room, "I woke you up, didn't I?"

You laughed, as you turned the lights on, "I wish, shit, Buck."

You walked across to look at his face, covered in blood stains and bruises. You placed your hands gently on his jaw, turning his head softly to survey the damage done.

Bucky held your wrist softly, "Y/N,"

"If you're going to tell me you're fine, don't. What happened?"

"Last day, you know how it is."

You did, but that didn't make this any easier. Each and every time he came back from a mission, covered in cuts and bruises, it hurt you, to seem him bruised and scarred. For Bucky though, you kept your cool.

"Sit down, I'll get the kit."

Just as you moved away, Bucky held onto your arm, "I'll take care of it, you should sleep."

"You're unbelievable."

You shook his arm away and moved to the kitchen to grab the kit and some water, "I haven't seen you in three weeks and you want me to choose sleep over you?"

Even though Bucky had controlled his groans, you heard them. This man was the biggest pain in your ass most days and, UGH, you missed it when he wasn't.

"So fucking stubborn." You huffed.

"Warm welcome huh?"

You kept the stuff on the table and turned to glare at him.

Bucky pushed the loose strand of hair behind your ear and ran his fingers through it, "I missed you, doll."

And that was the end of your mean facade. Literally. You leaned in, to kiss him gently, and whispered on his lips,  "I missed you too. So much."

Bucky's eyes lingered on you, while you took the supplies out to tend to your husband.

"Why are you still up?"

You turned back to him as he slid down to lay his head on the top of the couch. You winced when he hissed, "Sorry, it'll be over soon."

Bucky smiled softly, his hands circling around your waist, pulling you closer to him, "Hmm, why are you up?"

"Can't sleep."

"Why?"

You got the bandages out, "I don't know. Is the mission done?"

Bucky nodded, to which you sighed in relief.

"How long before the next one?"

Bucky's smile widened, the bag around his eyes intensifying as he did, "I'm hoping for a while."

"Good."

You concentrated on his face. He really was the prettiest. Obviously, if you said that out loud, Bucky wouldn't be happy, but that's how you felt when you looked at him. Especially, his softness around you. The need to always touch you when he was around, his words of praise for everything you did, his support for everything you wanted to do, how he takes care of you even if he was hurting, all of it made you feel loved. Oh, you loved him so much. So much that you wanted to do everything for him.

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm pregnant."

Bucky shot up, which immediately led to him, wincing in pain.

"Bucky, are you okay?"

"You," Bucky's eyes focused on you, "You're pregnant?"

You nodded.

Bucky's eyes lingered down, the shock still very evident on his face, "We're having a kid?"

"I mean, yeah, that's what I hear."

Immediately you were engulfed in him. Bucky pulled you closer into his chest and wrapped his arms around you. You laughed as you wrapped your arms around him, breathing in his very grim filled shirt.

"I love you."

You kissed his chest, "I love you too."

"When did you find out?"

"Yesterday."

Bucky's hands covered your face as he kissed your forehead, "We're going to have a mini you and me, running around soon."

"We have some more time for that Buck."

Bucky placed tender kisses all over your face, "Hmm, my wife, my child's mother and my happy place."

You giggled, "Your happy place?"

Bucky kissed your jaw, "Wherever you are is my happy place."

"Oh, I think you're my happy place too."

Bucky pulled back to look at you, "Really? I thought your happy place is sipping on margaritas in Italy?"

"Guess who's sipping on margaritas with me?"

"Me?"

"Who else?"

Bucky's eyes quickly widened, and all the happiness drained out of his face, "WHY ARE YOU UP?! Did you go to the doctor? Y/N, did you eat?"

You rolled your eyes, "Here we go."

You pulled away from him and sat down. Bucky paced back and forth, infront of you, bombarding you with a question every passing second,

"Can you please breathe?"

"I should start reading some books. Find a safer house for us to live, did you tell anyone else?"

"Yep, all of Brooklyn. Should I buy a spot on Times Square too?"

"This is not funny, Y/N. I need to protect them, if something happens,"

"Buck, hey," You reach out to hold his hand, "stop, don't go there." 

Bucky sat down next to you, his head laying your chest and his hands around your waist. You ran your fingers through his scalp, playing with his hair, "You'll be a great dad."

"Yeah?"

"Of course, I have no doubt. I can see you being wrapped around our baby's fingers, doing whatever you need to do to get a smile out of them. The cool dad, their biggest supporter and their protector. Seriously, I'm glad you're my baby's dad. With you around, I don't have any reason to worry about our kids. Just like you look after me, you'll look after them. And most importantly, we'll love you just as much you love us."

Bucky looks up at you, "You'll be a great mom too."

You laughed, "I'm playing for second favorite with you around."

"You'll always be my favorite doll."

You pushed him away immediately after he kissed you, because there's only so much attack your nose could take, "Prove it to me by taking a shower."

He gets up to take his shirt off, "You're no fun." 

You scoffed, "And you're the biggest tease."

Bucky laugh echoed as he moved to the bedroom, "I got you pregnant, so mission successful."

[gremlin-girly]

Forget-me-not Blues

Ask and ye shall recieve! Buckle up buttercups, this is my first Soulmate AU.

Banner by me and the images were sourced from Pinterest (credit to the OG pics), made in Canva

Dividers by: @/sweetmelodygraphics

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Tags/Warnings: FLUFF, ANGST/WHUMP, Soulmate Mate Mark AU!, mentions of death., mentions of torture, right person wrong time, 2nd and 3rd person P.O.V, petnames (doll)

I’m leaving out some tags so I don’t go spoiling the plot so please read at your own risk!

Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated (or put through AI)

A/N: I cut a huge chunk about Soulmate AU context at the beginning because it felt unnecessary. It's just a world where word/phrase of the soulmate's is written on them; it's not always the first thing they say to a person :)

More Author’s Notes are at the end of this fic so if you want to know more about the flowers and some thoughts I had whilst writing this, please go take a peek! This has been a labour of love.

Summary: A story about finding and losing soulmates to the test of time.

Word count: 4.2k

Navigation | The Bucky Barnes Collection

1942

Your family had owned a flower stand for as long as you could remember. Ever since you could stand on your own two feet your father put you to work handing out daisies to every woman, young or old, that passed by just to put a smile on their face.

Adorned with roses, daisies, poppies and more, the colourful stall had always been popular. Your father expertly wrapped combinations of flowers in old newspapers until the war began. He believed it was bad luck to wrap gifts in bad news.

When your father had been called to return to service, he had entrusted the stall to you. The old women who’d lost husbands and sons in the war would often buy a poppy or three, and any of the soldiers on a short stay would always buy a dozen or so roses for all of the dames.

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes was one of your best customers. Bucky was always smiling, flirting and generally schmoozing his way by, often with a battered Steve Rogers in tow. Bucky being the big romantic he was liked roses, of course, and would frequently stop by your stall on his way home from work.

“Hey doll,” Bucky grinned, leaning against your display table.

You couldn’t help but smile back. The playful air he had around him was infectious and you half wished you could find a soul mate like him. Or wished you could just have him.

“Afternoon Buck,” You fluff up a pile of pink roses. Despite the trying times, business was booming. A lot of dates, a lot of weddings and a lot of funerals. “Want the usual?”

Bucky plucks up a rose and twirls it in his fingers before raising it to his nose and inhaling the gentle, sweet scent. His grin grows wider, his boyish charm shining through with the glimmer of mischief in his blue eyes and the dirt on his cheeks from a long day at work.

You know what’s coming next.

“No, Bucky.” You say airily, smiling at him as you move to the next pile of roses on the stall. Bucky gapes at you.

“Please, doll. One dance - that’s all ’m askin’!”

It’s now the sixth time he’s asked you and each time he looks like a kicked puppy when you tell him no.

“Yes but one dance turns into two, then three.” You tease, moving around the stall to face him, plucking the rose from his fingers and leaning close. “And then you’ll be dancing with a new dame next week anyway. I’m just cutting out the middle man. Plenty of men like you come by my stall, James.”

You turn away from him with a short shrug, placing the pink rose back into it’s correct pile before moving to a new carefully packed crate of flowers that need unpacking.

“What if I’m not the man you think I am?” Bucky counters, following after you. “Maybe I’m terrible at dancing.”

Chuckling you turn to face him, ready to spout another weak excuse to not go with him, when one of your white roses is stuffed under your nose. Raising an eyebrow you look over at Bucky, who’s smirking at you.

“Hi, my name’s Bucky and, if you’d be so kind as to let me take you dancing sometime, I promise to make it worth your while.”

You feel heat crawl up your face as you start to laugh. “Why are you introducing yourself to me?”

“Because,” Bucky shrugs, the twinkle in his eyes becoming a bright sparkle now that you’re laughing. “I’m not the man you think I am. And life’s too short, doll. I’d like to spend at least one night of my life dancin’ with you.”

How were you going to argue with that?

But something seemed… strange. When you’d say no, usually he’d banter with you a bit more and ask about your dad, you’d ask after his mom, his sister and Steve before he’d trot on his merry little way with you gazing after him.

Today, Bucky was insistent but behind his eyes was a sadness you hadn’t seen before. Your heart strings tugged, something within you screamed at you to say yes like you had desperately wanted to all those times before. No more imagining what it would feel like to have his hands in yours as you twirled and danced well into the night.

“Sure,” you sigh after a few moments, trying not to seem too eager. Bucky beams at you so brightly anyone else would think you’ve hung the moon and hands you your white rose with a mocking bow.

“One dance.” You add firmly, heart fluttering as your fingers brush his when you pluck the rose from him.

Bucky puts his hand on his heart, beginning to walk backwards. As he passes your stall he stuffs a dollar into your change jar and bats his eyelashes innocently at you.

You shake your head with a grin, watching him go. There was an electric charge all around you and you felt excited for your long-dreamed-of date with one Bucky Barnes.

“I only need one dance to make you fall in love with me, doll!” He continues walking backwards, narrowly avoiding other New Yorkers, but his eyes never leave yours. “I’ll pick you up at seven!”

Dancing with Bucky was exactly how you imagined it would be; your feet barely touched the ground as he spun and lifted you. You felt lighter than air as you looked down at Bucky's grinning face, eyes sparkling with joy as he held you close. One dance quickly turned to three.

After the third, Bucky led you to a nearby table.

"So much for one dance." Bucky teases lightly, his hand still lightly holding your waist. You're thankful your flushed cheeks hide your embarrassment but you're smiling regardless. Before he can ask you what drink he can get you, We'll Meet Again begins to crackle over the speaker and you drag him back to the dance floor.

"Hey, shouldn't I be leading doll?" He jokes, hands immediately encompassing your hips once you'd found a space to sway in.

"Hush," You murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I like this song."

Bucky smiles down at you and says nothing further until the song finishes. You both mimic the other, swaying to the music and gently singing along as you gaze at eachother.

"I should walk you home doll." Bucky says quietly once the song finishes. You feel a little light-headed and breathless, even though you'd only been swaying and you notice that Bucky's hands are still on your waist.

"O-okay." You swallow. If Soulmates didn't exist, you'd be kissing him right about now. "I know a short-cut."

"This," Bucky looked up as the wrought iron fence. "Is a short-cut?"

"Where's your sense of adventure?" You grin back at him as you crawl through a gap in the fence. "Come on Sarge, it's not far I promise."

Bucky sighs with a smile, pulling his dress pants up so they don't rip at the knees when he crawls through the gap after you. You take his hand and lead him blindly through the dark park, the both of you stumbling and giggling like teenagers, until you reach a dirtpath leading through a small thatch of trees to a clearing. The light of the moon illuminates the clearing into a sea of blue. Forget-me-nots are clustered together in one large group in the clearing; thousands upon thousands of tiny blue flowers that disappear to black when the moon vanishes again behind a cloud.

"Wow," Bucky breathes. "You've been holdin' out on me, doll. If I knew this was here, I'd have taken you on a romantic picnic instead of dancin'."

“Yeah, I could spend forever getting lost in those forget-me-not blues,” you sigh wistfully, looking over at Bucky's face.

“Well doll, forget me not.” He punctuates each word with a sad smile.

What should be a joyous moment filled with love, happiness and a rainbow of technicolour is soured by the harsh reality that Bucky wouldn't be staying in New York any longer. You shouldn't be too surprised, you knew he got drafted but you can see it in his eyes, the utter sadness of your situation. You can't even enjoy finding your soulmate in peace.

“You’ve got orders.” You can barely eke the words out of your closing throat.

Bucky nods, swallowing thickly and looking at your entwined hands. “Got my letter the other day. England."

You breathe out, long and slow, your nose becoming more blocked as more tears stream down your face and your throat burns with unvoiced sobs. It was unfair. So, so unfair.

"I'll write to you everyday." He promises, squeezing your hand back. "I'll come back and visit every chance I can get until this war is over. And then-"

“I could never forget you James Buchanan Barnes. Never.“ You say firmly, gazing over at him and squeezing his hand hard.

You cut him off with a quick kiss that doesn't even begin to convey how happy you are to have found him, trying to protect your heart from more hurt that undoubtedly will come.

"Save it for your letters," You tease softly, sniffing away tears. "I want something to look forward to while I wait."

Bucky grins and pecks your lips back. "You got it, doll."

You both stay on that log until the early hours, basking in each other's presence before Bucky was deployed to England the next afternoon. The voids left in your hearts when you separated were almost too much to bare but when you were safely home, and Bucky tucked away on a boat, you both immediately began to work on your letters to each other.

Being posted in England isn't too bad to begin with. In fact, Bucky thinks that his letters are too boring but he doesn't want to fill the letters with how much he misses you or how he wishes he could be with you instead; he knows you know it too, and it doesn't make it hurt any less.

When he's sent to Europe, suddenly those boring, mundane letters are a God-send. One of your letters contained a good Iuck charm, courtesy of your small slice of blue paradise ; a single pressed forger-me-not into a piece of card with a lipstick stain of your lips on the reverse. Bucky kept the piece in his left breast pocket, just over his heart, keeping the thought of you near wherever he went.

The first thing he does after Steve rescues him is write you.

He leaves out the details but tells you not to worry, he'll be home soon. Tell Mom and Rebecca not to worry too.

Days later, when he's lying in the snow bleeding from the Stump that was his left arm, he wonders if it was all worth it. Your lucky charm had disappeared somewhere during the fall and Bucky sobbed at the thought that not only had he lost his arm but a piece of you too. Delirious with blood loss, he imagined your face in the cold comfort of the snow, smiling playfully like you always did, kissing him so tenderly like you had on your date all those moons ago. He couldn't leave you without a soulmate.

Hearing approaching footsteps crunching in the snow, Bucky screamed for help, hoping, praying that it was Steve.

It wasn't.

Turns out, HYDRA don't like it when their science experiments escape and despite vowing to escape a second time once he's healed, it's nigh impossible. And not without consequence.

Bucky's vow quickly becomes to always remember you instead when he's strapped to the electric chair, biting on his tongue so hard he draws blood. The more his brain cooks in the chair, the more torture he's subjected to, the more your face blurs in his mind's eye. It kills him, little by little, knowing you're fading from his memory but he still tries to remember your face. He still hopes, dreams and thinks of you. Would you remember him? Would you recognise him if he returned from this hell on Earth?

What breaks him is not the twenty-seven long years of being thawed and unthawed, tortured and electrocuted. It's the one rainy day where his heart hurts so badly, he screams until he can't any longer. It's the day his blurred soulmate's face is torn from his soul and leaves him all alone in the cruellest, darkest place imaginable.

The premature death of Bucky Barnes' soulmate caused the birth of the Winter Soldier after twenty-seven gruelling years.

How could you suffer on knowing you would never see your one true love again? His brain and heart couldn't win out after that.

Present Day

Museums were Bucky’s favourite places to be on his days off. There was something comforting about the silence and the relics of human history, the evolution and study of animals, rocks and bones and the celebration of human artistry that wasn’t as overwhelming as the Internet. The Internet was faster, sure, but museums had everything in one neat place and no two museums were the same.

He and Steve had spent countless days of their childhood visiting the Natural History Museum and then when he'd finally broken away from HYDRA, he'd visited every museum he could find to learn about himself and the developments after the war that he'd missed.

Today, though, Bucky had decided to take a longer wander through the galleries. It was easy to walk through and ignore the paintings until something caught your eye but Bucky was insistent that he would stop at every painting today and perhaps try to see what Steve sees.

It wasn't with what she was wearing or how she looked but something just didn't seem right. Bucky knew he should probably investigate but dammit it was his day off; he deserved some peace and quiet.

The galleries aren’t busy, as usual. A few old couples taking a wander through, a gaggle of tourists taking photos and an art student or two studying brush strokes of portraits. However, in a small alcove surrounded by paintings of flowers and woodland, sat a woman who looked entirely out of place.

The woman is still there when he makes it to the alcove and the pull from his chest is unbearable now. He was wrong before when he'd thought that she didn't seem right; she was perfect. He couldn't remember when he'd last seen someone so beautiful that she looked like a rare painting come to life. Nervous didn't begin to describe the feelings swirling in his chest. There was an unfathomable joy coupled with anxiety and he wished he kept gum in his leather jacket right now.

The hair on Bucky’s arm and neck stand on end, his heart rate sky rocketing. He’d heard that phrase before.

“I could spend forever getting lost in those forget-me-not blues.” The woman sighs dreamily, gazing at the painting before her.

Bucky's caught off guard when she turns to look over at him, her eyes catching his for a small respite and he almost folds like a deck chair. The air is sucked out of Bucky’s lungs so quickly he can barely process it and he feels faint, no dizzy, from just looking at her properly. Her eyes are wide with surprise but there's a sliver of playfulness that hides within them and whatever ever was nagging at him earlier has now blossomed into a crackling hearth of building adoration that was vaguely familiar somehow.

“What did you say?”

Bucky's eyes drop to her neck, where a tiny blue flowers pendant sits on a delicate silver chain. It's delicate but sweet, an almost perfect compliment to her being.

“Oh! I’m sorry. Talking to myself.” The stranger gives him a sheepish smile and turns back to the painting. “Beautiful isn’t it?”

For some odd reason, Bucky feels a wave of melancholy. He can't place why when there's a stunning woman in front of him.

Bucky tears his eyes from her and looks at the painting; two blurred figures dancing amongst a sea of blue flowers, similar to the necklace she wears. The male figure is holding the female figure's hand as her dress billows and blends into the flowers. Although they don't have faces, it's clear these figures are happy and in love.

"Does it make you feel sad?" The woman asks suddenly. Bucky glances over to see that her expression has changed to one of longing.

"-they look happy." She finishes, looking over with a wry smile. "Sorry, I shouldn't be so depressing to a stranger."

"I... yeah. Even though-"

"I like your necklace."

Bucky smiles and shifts on his feet. He wants to say something more, tell her that it's fine, but instead he dumbly states;

He regrets it as soon as he says it and looks to his feet. Didn't this used to be easy? Hadn't he charmed women both as Bucky and the Winter Soldier?

"Oh! This?" She fiddles with the pendant between her thumb and fore finger, inspecting it gently. She doesn't seem bothered by the awkward compliment. "I just like forget-me-nots."

“Why forget-me-nots?” He asks suddenly.

Forget-me-nots.

Something in his mind flashes with recognition.

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you like them?”

The woman pauses and scratches her face thoughtfully, as if trying to place when she began loving the tiny flower. "I… don’t know, actually. I just always have.”

Bucky starts to smile wider. He feels like himself, how he used to be back in the 30s. Even though there's something about her that makes him suffer this almost recognition, like she’s a word stuck on the tip of his tongue, he can't deny the joy and warmth he feels in her presence and he can't help but want keep speaking with her.

She offers Bucky a shrug. “I guess they’re pretty? Teeny, tiny little things but the colour?” She gives Bucky an impressive smile but then it falters for a moment as she catches his eyes again, really looking at them this time. “Wow. Your eyes are some shade of blue.”

“Thanks.” He clears his throat and tries for nonchalance. "Do you... come here often?"

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he cringes, scrunching his face with disgusted embarrassment. So much for feeling like himself. Was flirting always so hard?

"Ugh. Sorry that was.... oh God." Bucky runs a hand down his face as the woman laughs.

“It’s alright and to answer, no - I don't. Today I just, well, it sounds stupid. But today I just really wanted to come here. I usually just walk straight past but I’m glad I did.” The flirtatious smirk she gives Bucky makes his knees wobble and he has to shift his weight to hide it.

"You probably already know why they’re called forget-me-nots.”

Bucky says, opting to try to sound knowledgeable instead of cool. Maybe that would be a better play. He doesn't know what's gotten into him. He's usually calm and collected. However, his heart is beating so hard he's scared it may fall right out of his chest.

Bucky’s lip twitch into a smirk and the woman pats the empty space next to her, shuffling over slightly to make space for Bucky. His knee knocks hers and he gives a quiet, embarrassed apology before clearing his throat to recite what he'd been told.

“I do but tell me anyway.”

He trails but the woman is transfixed on his face.

“They used to be given to soldiers going off to war by their lovers.” He says. “I don’t remember who told me but…”

"Sorry." Bucky scrunches his nose and smiles. "I got lost for a moment."

"At least you came back." The woman smiles in return. She looks back towards the painting again. Bucky tells himself that it’s out of old observational habits that he watches her face; how her eyes look longingly at the dancing couple of the painting, the sweet curve of her lips as she smiles.

"Do you think they were soulmates?"

"I think they're two people who love each other." Bucky says cautiously and when the woman raises an eyebrow at him, he shrugs sheepishly, waving his left arm. "Sorry I... I don't have one. The writing must have been on my left arm and I can't remember what it said. I'm a little jaded, unfortunately."

She frowns and points to his arm. "Your arm looks fine to me."

Bucky snorts and smiles sheepishly at her. “It’s a…. um, prosthetic. I don’t have any words anywhere else so they had to have been on my left arm. I should have been clearer."

“Oh.” The woman's face turns fire-engine red with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. That was so rude of me."

"Don't worry about it." Bucky shrugs it off with a chuckle before swiftly changing the subject. "What do you like about the painting?"

“I’d love to do that one day.” She says wistfully after a moment, nodding at the figures.

She laughs, no chuckle this time, a pure lilt of happiness that makes Bucky’s heart twist in his chest and he can’t help but smile a little wider. Flirting was a little bit like riding a bike, not that he’d been interested in flirting much since having his brain fried multiple times.

“Do what? Dance?” Bucky asks curiously, sensing an opportunity. “You can dance whenever you want. We can dance right here if you want, I’ll ask one of the guards for music.”

The woman glances over at him, biting back a smile and rolling her eyes playfully. “Riiiiiight. Sure."

"I mean it!" Bucky bolsters, hopping to his feet. "I-..."

He falters for a moment when he sees her grin; her challenge. Her eyes meet his, bright and sparkling. Whatever he feels he knows she feels it too. He offers his left arm to her, stiff and awkward as his face blooms red.

The woman snorts and laughs again but she takes hold of his gloved hand, rising to her feet.

“Hi, my name’s Bucky and, if you’d be so kind as to let have this dance, I promise to make it worth your while.”

"Y/N. And just one." Her tone is firm but her glittering eyes betray the same excitement he feels. "What about music?"

"Heard they have music on phones nowadays, doll." Bucky quips, his free hand reaching for his phone in his back pocket. He doesn't notices she's raised a curious brow.

"Doll? That's a new one."

"I - oh..." Bucky grins sheepishly but before he can apologise, she stops him with a smile.

"I like it. Vintage."

Now it's Bucky's turn to snort. Who needed soulmates anyhow?

"Speaking of vintage." Bucky hits play on Vera Lynn's remastered classic.

"We'll Meet Again." She murmurs as Bucky's hands ghost along her waist. "Good choice."

"Thanks. Is this okay?"

"You're barely touching me." She giggles, wrists crossing behind his neck.

"Hey, I gotta make sure. Just follow my lead."

Vera Lynne's voice echoes around the alcove drawing curious peeks from other museum-goers but both Bucky and the woman in his arms couldn't care less as they swayed to the music. Y/N followed Bucky's footsteps as he guided her around the room with practices ease, poking fun at her lightly when she'd step on his feet accidentally.

An image rears its head in Bucky's mind's eye. There's a park, somewhere, with hundreds of forget-me-nots but he can't place the timeline. Did he go there as the Winter Soldier? Did he go there during the war? Was it a passing visit on a mission?

He knows he didn’t find it, someone showed him. Maybe Steve? Someone else? Did he see it once in a dream?

“You’re a good dancer.” Y/N whispers against his chest as the song draws to a close. Bucky is sure she can hear his heartbeat through his leather jacket now. “I don’t think I could ever forget this.”

“Well, doll... Forget me not.” He doesn’t know why he says it. It’s cheesy at best, terrible word play at worst.

But she halts, blinking up at him. The silence in the alcove is so loud a pin could drop.

It’s like a veil has lifted. The air shifts, Bucky can feel it now. That joy he buried earlier rose from the soles of his feet all the way up to his head. He felt like he was walking on air. He can see her eyes widen, further and further until their the size of dinnerplates, and there, almost within the depths of her soul; there's the flicker of recognition.

“What did you just say?”

It's a domino effect. Y/N's soul reaches for Bucky's as memories flood back; lifetimes of memories, experiences and pain binding their souls together in a dance that will last for eternity.

"It's you," He chuckles, still not quite believing his eyes. "It's really you."

The kiss they share is nothing like their first one. It's longer, more patient, relishing the electric feel of each other's lips for what feel like eons.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” You breathe, tears of happiness filling your eyes. “I knew I wouldn’t forget you. And I knew you’d come back.”

That playful smile he'd grown to love all those decades ago makes a swift appearance on your face and reaches the lights of your eyes as you look up at him.

"Now, if I remember correctly, we have a few decades worth of catching up to do."

END

A/N1: Ready for the flower symbolism? None of this the roses were pink because they were pink roses bs

Forget-Me-Nots: were given to lovers when their gifter went away to war. Commonly associated with the phrase “Forget me not.” (Duh). But they are also representative of remembrance, memory, love, friendship, hope, and fidelity. Source here

The necklace is based on this one on Etsy that I adore

Pink roses: (The first rose Bucky picks up and you steal back) symbolise admiration, happiness and love.

White roses: (The second rose Bucky picks up and hands to you) represent Innocence, purity and loyalty. Bucky’s intentions are were true.

These also are used for fresh starts, so can also be used as Bucky “starting over” (like when he goofily re-introduces himself to you and in the modern day where his memory has been wiped).

A/N 2: Name of the Fic

Well, a multitude of reasons really.

1) forget-me-nots are hardy plants that always come back (hence why reader says it to Bucky). He has an awful habit of bouncing back bless him.

2) Bucky’s Eyes: Azure blue? But there’s something about little poetic in a forget-me-not Blue ;)

3) Blues: Bucky is a big fan of Jazz, and Blues although Blues came before jazz its debated heavily on whether it is a sub-genre of jazz or if its a genre all on its own. Blues songs tend to be romantic, sad and slow; which I think are key elements of Bucky and his story.

4) Their meaning: true love and faithfulness. Can’t have a romance without those right?

5) the utter irony of the fact that Bucky did actually completely forget her lmao

A/N 3: I heavily debated how to incorporate the words of the Soul Mark back into modern day. Originally I was going to leave it kinda open ended at the gallery because I couldn’t think of a way to get Bucky’s words in without them seeming forced. But when I was doing a third edit of this, I realised they could end up having a haphazard date; which ended up as a replay of the 40s just so their souls could greet eachother again in the same place bc I am nothing if not a romantic at heart. I ended up scrapping that in favour of the museum alcove and having them recreate their "first date" there with the paintings acting as the woodland this time because I was struggling with dialogue and bridging the two - but I think it turned out pretty romantic!!!

This was my first time writing a Soulmate AU and I quite enjoyed myself! But I would like some feedback, and obviously all comments are welcome! It’s not to say I’m not proud of my other work on here but this story has been brewing for months (and I’m actually really happy that it won the WIP poll).

I wholly appreciate any comments or asks on this work!! I don’t quite think I’m ready to let it go yet 🥹 so much so that even though there's not a part 2 in the works, there's another fic in the same AU I'm working on ;)

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@irishhappiness | @awkwardgiraffe726

[thewintersoldier111]

Do you ever just look at him...

And moan?

[pinkpinkmermayyy]

Sam *to Bucky*: do you think the itsy bitsy spider gave a FUCK that it was washed out by the rain? NO! It went up the spout again. LOCK THE FUCK IN!

[averageelliot]

Yelena and Bucky survived Thunderbolts 🗣️

[local-crying-boy]

can you make a story with bucky barnes following the knight x princess trope 😋 thank you ‼️

🄹🄰🄼🄴🅂 '🄱🅄🄲🄺🅈' 🄱🄰🅁🄽🄴🅂

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𝕄𝕪 𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕪

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙺𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝! 𝙹𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 '𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢' 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚡 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙾𝚗𝚎-𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝, 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚡 𝚔𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎, 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚐𝚎 (<<𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛>> + 𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚐), 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚏 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛, 𝚗𝚘 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 (𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚘 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚏 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: <<𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛>> 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚢𝚊𝚕 𝚔𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎, 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚟𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚏 <<𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛>>'𝚜 𝚍𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙷𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚊 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝙹𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚗𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1.7𝚔

𝙰/𝚗: 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚢. 𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚜𝚔.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

With the sun glistening off of the water from a nearby bird bath, you took in the familiar sights of your palace gardens. The vibrant, colourful flowers lining on the sides of the dirt path that you walked on calming your ever growing nerves. Birds flew overhead, some chirping their cheerful songs while covered in the security of the tree leaves.

The serene atmosphere was one that you wished could last forever, one that you wished that you could stay in and hide away from the rest of the world.

Your hands by your side, anxiously fidgeting as you rubbed the pads of your fingers together, a motion to try and remind you that you were still present. Your stomach twisted and knotted, you wondered if the grand breakfast you had this morning was due to come up again.

The news was a shock to you, despite having been prepared for this exact scenario your whole life.

You were to wed the King of the Kingdom to the North.

Marriage.

You.

You and marriage. Marriage and you.

The whole ideal of marriage scared you, the idea of tying your life to another. Another, who, by the way, you had only met once in your twenty and three years of life.

Besides, from the whispers you had heard in your royal court, you knew that he was not all that kind of a man. A brilliant ruler, of course, cares for his Kingdom, but known to be hot-headed and blunt towards his suitors. Perhaps that was why it had taken all these years for him to find a Queen. To find you.

You would not had mind if the man you were set to marry was one of which you knew, or even slightly kinder than this King. Regardless, your duty is what it is, a duty. You had no choice but to go along with your Father's wishes, your King's orders.

It was for the good of the Kingdom. Your Father had told you.

And, yes, it would be. The King you were arranged to marry would do wonders for your Kingdom, for your people. He was a wealthy ruler for a wealthy Kingdom, a fierce military and reliable trade. It would set your Kingdom up well for the future.

You would learn to love him. Your mother told you. Just as I learnt to love your Father.

And, yes, you were sure that that would become true. You could learn to love this King, perhaps he was only hot-headed towards his servants and not to his wife, to you.

Nevertheless, you thought of walking down that isle, a grand, white dress with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers in your hands, you Mother and Father watching with prideful smiles, it was enough to make you nauseous.

"My Lady." You heard.

It was a familiar one, one that you had heard numerous time throughout your life that you had grown to love it. It was a voice you had turned to on many dark nights, where your fears had gotten the best of you and he was the only one who could calm you down and ease your worries.

James Barnes.

Bucky. Your Bucky.

Your head turned around, your eyes meeting his steel blue eyes. He was wearing his armour, as he would any other day, it was a rare sight to see him without it on, so it never surprised you to see him in this formal wear. One of his hands rested on the hilt of his sword, but there was no indication that he was going to draw it, he once said it was easier to rest his palm there instead of letting it dangle by his side like he ad to with his other hand.

"Bucky." You greeted with a small nod of your head, clasping your hands behind your back so that the man before you couldn't see your anxious fidgeting.

"Is it true?" He questioned, his hands unmoving as he left them one resting on his sword and his other by his side. "I have heard whispers, are they true, My Lady?"

For reasons unknown to you, you felt a thump in your throat. Bucky was bound to find out the news of your betrothal sooner rather than later, but the fact that he found out sooner made it feel almost impossible to speak up.

You took a small, timid step towards him, but it wasn't enough to come intimately close to him. "Bucky, I was going to tell you myself-"

"And, yet, I find out from mere servants, whispering and gossiping while they work?" He hissed, one his hands tightening into a fist.

"I had to come to terms with the news myself, Bucky," You quickly said, a hand outstretching to your side as if to empathise the shock you felt yourself. "You believe I would want you to find out by anyone else's words, but my own?"

There was a moment of silence, the other thing being heard by the two of you were the distant sounds of birds and the light breeze that almost urged you towards him.

"Do not do it." The man before you said and, although his voice was stern as it usually was, you could hear the pleading twinge in his voice.

"What?" Was all you could muster out.

"Do not do it." He repeated, taking a step closer to you, his arms moving forwards as if he was reaching out for your hands, but he faltered in the action and they fell back to his sides. "Do not marry that man."

"You command me to do this as if I have any say in the matter." You say with an amused scoff, but your tone held anything but humour in them.

Bucky paused for but a moment, his brows furrowing. "What do you mean by this?"

Your head slowly swung side to side, you couldn't help but rub the pads of your fingers against on another like you did moments before Bucky appeared. "This is out of my power to change, my Father arranged this with the King to the Kingdom towards the North, I only recently received the news myself."

The blue eyed man seemed as still as one of the armoured statues in your palace, unmoving as he blankly stared at you. You were sure that, if he had his helmet over his face, he could easily be mistaken as one of those statues that littered around your grand home, misplaced in the middle of the gardens.

"It is not up to me who I marry, when I marry," You continued slowly, eyes glued to his face as your tried to pinpoint what he was exactly feeling, "It is my duty to do what is best for the Kingdom, for the people, it only happens to be that this... this is what is best."

"To sell yourself to a loveless marriage?" He finally spoke up, his gaze as hard as the metal he wore.

You sighed, shaking your head once more, a hand going to your face so that your fingers to pinch the bridge of your nose. "Do not phrase it like that, Bucky."

"But that is what is happening." He insisted, his head tilting down ever so slightly so he could keep his eyes on your delicate face, "You are giving yourself to a man who only wants you because you are young, so that he can have an heir to continue ruling over his Kingdom."

When you didn't speak up, nor move from looking down at the footpath, he only continued on. "He will not care for you, nor will he ever love you. This is only for business."

"And, yet, Bucky, my whole life has been dictated for what business is." You finally hissed, head shooting up to look up at him. "I will let you know that I am very much aware of the nature of this marriage, that is would be unlikely that I will be loved by this man, let alone cared for, and that the only reason he wants me as his Queen is so that he can have a son."

This time, due to the fact that Bucky did respond, you continued. "However, my life's purpose is to do what is right for my people, and what is right for the future of this Kingdom. One wrong move could lead to a merciless war, or the demise of our home. Is this not something you would understand? Is it not true that, with one wrong move in battle, your own comrades would die?"

"These are two very different situations." Bucky scorned, his eyes narrowing as they met your gaze once more, not breaking away.

You tilted your head to the side, a taunt to try to get him to challenge your opinion. "Enlighten me, how so."

"I, unlike you, make decisions in the heat of battle, fleeting moments that could cause someone's demise." He spoke, a hand to his chest while he spoke about himself, but the outstretched his hand to motion to you. "You, however, make decisions that can be uncertain over the course of months."

"And that uncertainty can lead to those very battles where you must decide who must live and die." You swiftly countered, "We differ in the situations of which we chose the danger those we fight for end up in, but they are the same decisions, nonetheless."

"But you are a mere Princess, you do not decide whether or not we go to war." Bucky spoke slowly, almost condescending.

"I do not decide whether or not we go to war. "You repeated, your gaze not letting up as you held your chin up high. "Yet, my actions can lead to that decision needing to be made, hence why I must marry this King."

"You do not decide-"

"I do." You hissed, taking one more step towards Bucky again. "Do not try to insist that I do not, and do not speak to me in that tone, you know who I am and you should do your best to remember your place."

You had never spoken to Bucky like that, not in the many years that you had known the man. You two had a close-knit relationship, oftentimes, yes, he did forget that you were royalty, but you never held that against him.

Although, clearly, times had changed, for everyone.

Bucky did not speak again, words having been stripped away from his vocabulary and forcing him to look like a dunce as he stood frozen in place.

"I cannot waste any more time engaging in this foolish conversation with you, I have wedding preparations to plan for." You said, forcing your voice to keep level as it had been all throughout this interaction with your old friend. "Good day, James."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Masterlist

[simplyholl]

Desperate Measures

Summary: When you encounter a mysterious substance during a mission, it forces you and your mission partner to get closer.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger F. Reader

Warnings: Quinjet crash. Sex pollen. Smut. Slight choking. Brief fucking with a gun. 18+ Only. Minors DNI.

See my Masterlist Here

You curse Nick Fury for what feels like the millionth time in the past three years. He had a "brilliant" idea, mission partners. When there was a world threat all of the Avengers would assemble. But when it came to smaller stuff like mobs, small Hydra threats, or robberies, he wanted just a few of you to take care of it.

Fury paired everyone based on their skills, their background, astrology, and other secret factors he wasn't willing to share. The idea came shortly after you joined the team, making an even number of people on the Avengers. You received copies of each other's files. You were supposed to spend most of your time with them at first to learn everything about them.

Fury wanted you to be able to almost read your mission partner's mind, to anticipate every move they made on the field. You should know them better than you know yourself. Which would have been great, except you got paired with Bucky Barnes, the former brainwashed assassin. He hated you, and you weren't even sure why. But the moment you met him, he was cold to you. He wasn't normally the friendliest anyways, but he had it out for you specifically.

He would smile and laugh with Steve and Sam. He was more guarded with the others, but he tolerated them, not you though. He fought with you all the time over nothing usually. So three years ago when Fury assigned you to be his mission partner, Bucky was furious. He complained to Fury, trying to switch. Fury immediately shot him down. He told him if he didn't like it, there was the door. After Steve talked to him, he begrudgingly accepted his fate.

You fought more often than not, an occurrence the other Avengers were used to. You’d argue the whole way on a mission. But when you were working together, you both could end your petty squabbles until it was completed. Then you’d be back at it the second it was over.

This time was no different. Bucky was flying the quinjet while you looked over a map of the Hydra facility you were going to. Your mission was simple. Break in, get the files, and get out. The building was located in Italy. You and Bucky both agreed once you got the files, you would part ways and explore the city. You were excited. The food, the culture, the men were all calling you. You packed a new dress just for the occasion.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when the quinjet made a noise that made a shiver run up your spine. The lights on the dash started blinking rapidly. Beeping filled the jet as you looked to Bucky. “Not a fucking word.” He barked at you, his metal fingers frantically pressing buttons.

The jet started to spin in the air. Bucky cursed as he tried to steady the wheel. It was no use, you were going down. You sat straight up in your seat holding onto your seatbelt for dear life. Of course, you would die with the person you hate most in the world. Karma was a bitch and you weren’t sure what you did to deserve this fate. The jet whipped around in the sky before plummeting to the ground.

After the initial shock wore off, you opened your eyes hesitantly. You must be dead. You hit way too hard and fell fast. The first thing you see is Bucky who quickly unbuckles himself and stands. Oh great, this must be hell. You’re gonna be stuck with him for all eternity. “Not that I’d have a problem with it, but if you don’t want to be here when the jet explodes, you better get out now.” Bucky tells you as he uses his metal hand to pry open a caved in wall and crawl out. You follow him with no hesitation.

Bucky walks a good distance away from the wreckage with you in tow. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and calls Nick Fury letting him know what happened. After a few minutes, he hangs up. “What did he say?” You ask hoping someone was on their way to get you. “Our coordinates show that we aren’t far from the Hydra facility. Fury said do the mission and he will have somewhere for us to spend the night when we are done. Someone will come get us tomorrow.”

“All our stuff is on the jet, are we not gonna get to go out like we planned?” You whined. You knew you were being selfish, but you had been dreaming of going out after the mission ever since you found out about it a month ago. Bucky shoots you a glare. “No, Princess. We aren’t going out after this.”

He rolls his eyes at you. You put your hands on your hips, pissed off at the nickname he calls you. “Princess” wouldn’t be a horrible nickname. But the way he used it made you furious. He said you were spoiled and bratty. So he had given you the nickname three years ago after you became mission partners.

He uses his phone to find the location of the Hydra facility. You followed him the whole time, flipping him off or making faces behind his back as he berated you for still wanting to go out. When you make it to your destination, Bucky turns around and gives you that signature glare. “If you don’t stop flipping me off and sticking your tongue out at me, I will break your fingers and rip out your tongue.”

Your heart dropped as you realized he knew what you had been up to the whole time. Before you could defend yourself, he grabbed your wrist, dragging you inside the building. He led the way through the dark. It was silent and it seemed like you were alone. You finally found the main computer. He stood guard as you pulled up the files and downloaded them to the device Fury gave you. When you were done, you shut down the computer and handed Bucky the device. He pocketed it and started walking toward the exit.

A loud siren started going off, blue lights flashed through the building. A chemical scent filled your nostrils. You look up to see red smoke descending from the ceiling. It was everywhere. You start to panic. It was probably some poison designed to kill whoever broke in here. Bucky was half way to the door when you finally realized you should move. You ran to him as he pulled on the door. “It’s locked.” He told you. Your heart beat faster as the red smoke slowly got closer to you.

Bucky started kicking the door until the wood splintered under his leather boots. You follow him to the front of the building, the red smoke almost face level with you now. He runs at the front door using his strength to break it down, but not before the smoke surrounded both of you. You both cough as it fills your lungs. He wraps his flesh hand around your arm, dragging you behind him.

You walk a good mile before you decide to speak up. “Was that poison?” You ask him, scared for what was to come. “How the hell should I know?” His hateful reply pissed you off. “I’m so angry that I’m gonna die with you of all people!”

“I’m not. I can’t wait to watch you take your last breath. I’ll fight to stay alive until you do. Then I can die peacefully.” You open your mouth to reply when his phone starts ringing. He answers it, telling who you presumed was Fury about the mission. He asked about the red smoke but it didn’t sound like Fury had the answers. When he hung up, he turned to you. “He sent me the location of the safe house. We are going to go there while Bruce and Tony try to figure out what the smoke was.”

When you arrive at the safe house, you’re actually impressed. Usually it would be some shack in the woods. But this was a nice house. It was clean, it smelled nice. Most importantly, the kitchen was full of ramen, canned food and water. You made dinner for the two of you, bringing him a bowl of ramen as he accepted a video call from Tony.

Tony was smiling so wide, his face looked like it might split in half. “I got good news and bad news, kiddos.” He waits a second before speaking again. “The good news is, you’re not going to die.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding at that revelation. “The bad news is it was a sex drug.” Bucky and you look at each other, confusion on both of your faces. Tony bursts into laughter.

“I’m gonna assume, you don’t know what I mean?” You both shake your heads as Tony continues. “Well, the sex drug enhances all your senses. You’re going to be horny if a breeze blows by. And it will be unbearable. You’ll feel like you’re going to die if you don’t have sex. And you will. The drug is designed to make your body so hot that a high fever will set in. It will boil your brain if you don’t have sex. Don’t bother touching yourselves, that won’t work. You have to sleep with someone to make the side effects go away.” Tony cackles as he looks at the shocked looks on your faces.

He looks at his watch. “You should have about an hour before it sets in. And probably four after that before it kills you. So good luck.” He laughs before hanging up. The silence between you and Bucky is filled with tension. Both of you unsure of what this situation will bring.

You finish your dinner without saying a word to each other. But you can’t take it anymore. “Do you think he’s right?” Bucky considers your question for a moment, his blue eyes focusing on you. “Yeah, he wouldn’t lie to us.” You take a deep breath. “We have about thirty minutes before we start to feel it. What are we gonna do?”

“Im going to take a shower and go to bed.” You look at him incredulously. “Bucky, he said we will die if we don’t have sex. There’s gotta be a bar around here or something. We can go out and find someone to sleep with.” You offer a reasonable solution. Bucky chuckles, “We are in the middle of nowhere. There’s no one around for miles. And I’m sure as hell not fucking you.” He spits the words at you like venom.

“I don’t want you anywhere near me. But we don’t have a choice.” You fire back, but Bucky ignores you, walking to the bathroom and slamming the door behind him. You go into the bedroom with the en-suite bathroom and take a shower too. You can feel your body start to heat up. You turn the water as cool as it can get. When you dry off, your skin is sensitive. You can feel yourself getting wet just from the towel touching you.

You look through the drawers, knowing that there was usually clothes in there just in case. You were so hot you were starting to feel like not putting any clothes on at all. But you settled on a thin, white tank top and a pair of red panties. Your hard nipples rubbed against the fabric of the tank top making you moan. You lay on the bed and check your phone. The symptoms were just now setting in, and you were already miserable.

You closed your eyes, trying to sleep. Maybe Bucky was onto something. If you could sleep through your death, it might not be so bad. But sleep never came. You tossed and turned, you touched yourself. But nothing would suppress the horrible ache between your thighs. Your panties were practically stuck to you, they were so soaked. You checked the time again, realizing you only had an hour and a half before your imminent demise.

You stand up on shaky legs and walk to the bedroom Bucky was in. Desperate times called for desperate measures. You knock on the door gently at first, but after a few minutes pass with no answer, you try the door handle. It’s locked. You beat your fists against the door. “Bucky let me in. I’ll do all the work. You can close your eyes, pretend I’m someone else. We can put bags on our heads. But I need you to fuck me right now.”

He opens the door, his long hair in a messy bun, his blue eyes dark with lust. He’s naked, his hard cock on full display. “Bucky, please. I know we hate each other, but we have to. I can’t take this.” He doesn’t say anything as he grabs you with his metal hand slinging you onto the bed. You gasp as your back hits the mattress. Bucky towers over you looking at your body hungrily. His gaze lingers on your breasts. Your nipples are so hard, you’re surprised they haven’t cut through your tank top.

“If we are doing this, we do it my way.” He grumbles. You just lay there, willing to do whatever he wants. He walks over to the nightstand, grabbing his pistol and walking back to you. “What are you doing with that?” You ask wide eyed. “Shut the fuck up.” He growls. You swallow hard as he brings the gun down over your torso.

He grips your tank top between his large hands and pulls. The rip of the fabric echoes through the silence. He moves above you, bringing his head to your breasts. He captures a nipple between his lips, pulling it with his teeth. You cry out as he soothes the pain with his tongue, lapping at it gently.

He jerks your panties down your legs, discarding them behind him. “God, Princess, you’re soaked.” He runs the muzzle of the pistol through your folds. The cold metal making you shiver. He positions it slightly, sliding the barrel into you with ease. “Bucky! What’s with the gun?” He smirks as he works the weapon in and out of you. “I don’t want to touch you yet.” He shrugs, maneuvering the barrel causing it to hit your g-spot. Your toes curl and you arch up off the bed.

Bucky grabs you back down, his vibranium arm laying across your stomach to hold you in place. He removes the pistol, looking at it in awe. It’s covered with you. His tongue darts out to lick your arousal off it. He moans as he sucks all of you off his weapon. “You taste so good, Princess.”

You gasp as he jerks your legs apart, fingers digging into your flesh. You’re dripping down your thighs, making it harder for him to keep hold of you. He lowers his head, lapping up your arousal from your thighs. When he finally makes it to where you need him most, he wastes no time. His lips and tongue feasting on you like he’s ravenous. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking harshly as he pulls a forceful orgasm out of you.

He stands, pulling you to the edge of the bed. Bucky is fully inside you with one forceful thrust. You gasp at the delicious stretch. “Fuck.” He whispers, a few loose strands of hair fall from his bun. You have to fight the urge to grab a piece between your fingers.

Bucky’s movements are erratic. He’s like a wild animal. He lifts your leg, placing it over his shoulder, the new angle causes him to hit even deeper. You’re a mess, crying out his name, watching his face as he sets a brutal pace. The heat in your stomach becoming unbearable. You move your hips with him, matching his rhythm. He brings down his vibranium hand, touching over your chest before bringing it to your neck.

He squeezes lightly at first before adding more pressure. Your eyes roll back in your head. This was all too much. The way his big body pressed you against the mattress. The way he was looking at you. The way his vibranium hand was wrapped around your throat. How he fit so perfectly, it was like you were made to take him. You clench around him, causing his movements to falter. He is getting sloppy.

You wrap the leg not on his shoulder around his waist bringing him impossibly closer. You feel him spilling inside you sending you over the edge with him. He removes his hand from your neck, bringing it to your chin forcing you to look at him. “I hate you.” He whispers as he stills inside you. Bucky removes himself and stands between your legs. He gathers the cum dripping out of you with his middle and index fingers, forcing it back inside you. “I hate you too.” You say as your legs tremble from the intensity of it all.

Tags in the comments ❤️

[munsonshire]

Bucky Barnes as your Boyfriend

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: none Main Masterlist Bucky Barnes Masterlist

- He will beg you to stay the night at your place because he sleeps better when he's cuddling with you that when he's alone because as he says "you keep the nightmares away from me"

- You're his home and his safe space

- He allows himself to be vulnerable when he's with you

- You jokingly stick magnets to his metal arm, he acts as he hates it but it makes him feel less dangerous

- His nickname for you is doll or baby

- Would force you to watch 40s movies with him because he says that they are the best and that modern cinema is shitty

- Holds you tight when you sleep

- Stares at you ll the time

- Gives you a lot of soft little kisses all over your face and cheers you up when you're sad

- He has some trust issues and personal image issues and worries if you talk to other guys, he becomes jealous, not the bad kind, just the "I'm insecure of myself" jealous

- Steve was the one that introduced you to each other

- He's nice to you in public but he keeps all his affection for when you're alone

- When he went to Wakanda you went with him

- He loves to wear your headbands (if you use them) on his wrist

- He doesn't know how to type on a phone at first so your first conversations would be filled with random letters and lots of grammatical mistakes until he gets used to it

- Play fighting

- When you're out on dates he will usually ask for a large dessert because even if you say that you don't want one you will always end up picking at his food so he decided that this was the best decision

- Will give you his old dog tags to wear as a necklace, so that you remember him when he's out on a mission or in case something goes wrong

- He's very touchy once he gets comfortable with you

[vbecker10]

Bucky comforting reader after a nightmare?🥺

You're Okay Doll, I'm Here

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N) established relationship

Summary: You have a nightmare while Bucky is away on a mission and he comes home just in time to comfort you.

A/N: Thank you so much for sending this request! I absolutely love it. I hope you enjoy it 💚

The second the jet lands, Bucky picks up his gear and stands at the rear door waiting impatiently for the ramp to lower. As soon as it begins moving, he waves to Steve and Natasha over his shoulder without turning to check if they are following him. "I'll do my part of the paperwork in the morning," Bucky tells his teammates.

"Sure, that works," Steve responds, his attention focused on the checklist in his hand. "Night Buck," he adds a moment later but by the time he looks up, his friend has disappeared into the Tower.

"I guess he's in a bit of a rush to see Y/N again," Natasha laughs lightly as she switches off the last computer system in the jet.

Bucky shifts his bag to his other shoulder and presses the button for the elevator, hoping it will come quickly. Once the button lights up, he looks down to check his phone, hiding a yawn behind his metal hand. It's just a little after three in the morning, almost two hours later than he originally told you they'd be home.

As usual, your boyfriend had texted you when the mission officially ended and the jet took off to bring him home.

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

Y/N: Yay! ❤️ Can't wait to see you!

Bucky: I'm excited to see you too, beautiful. It's going to be late though, we're still about five hours away. It's okay if you fall asleep before I get back

Y/N: I won't, I just started a new book 😊

Bucky: Ahh, I see. You're not waiting up to see your amazing boyfriend, you just want to finish your new book

Y/N: Lol you figured me out 😆

Bucky: That's how well I know you. I'll see you in a few hours doll, I'm going to try and take a nap

Y/N: Can't wait! Enjoy your nap 🥱 have a safe flight ❤️

Bucky smiles at your last text then closes his eyes, folding his arms across his chest and resting his cheek on his shoulder. He breaths slowly, thinking about the plans you made for next weekend to help him relax. With a wide yawn, he stretches then slips off to sleep a few minutes later.

An hour into the flight, Bucky's jolted awake and nearly thrown from his seat in the rear of the jet by heavy turbulence. He opens his eyes, suddenly wide awake to the sound of thunder surrounding the jet. The super soldier looks towards Natasha and Steve who are focused on flying through the driving rain.

After discussing the unexpected weather with his teammates, Bucky returns to his seat in the rear of the jet. The three of them agreed the storm was too large and violent to fly directly through and follow the original flight path. The decision was made to fly around the storm, adding at least an hour but possibly more to the trip home.

Bucky sighs deeply, looking at his phone unsure of what to do as the sky lights up from a large streak of lightening. If he tells you about the storm and how much longer it will take to get back, you'll stay awake worrying about him. If he doesn't tell you and he doesn't come home when he was supposed to, you'll worry something happened. The last thing he wants to do is cause you any more stress so he decides to close his phone and hope you're asleep when he gets home. Maybe you won't even notice how late he is.

Bucky opens the door to your shared apartment quietly, not wanting to wake you if you had fallen asleep on the couch like you had several times in the past. The living room is dark expect for a small bit of light that shines from under the bedroom door. He knows the light doesn't mean you're still awake, you've fallen asleep with it on while reading plenty of times.

He takes off his jacket then kicks off his shoes and places his bag down by the door. Bucky walks silently through the living room without turning any of the lights on and heads straight for your bedroom.

As he gets closer he smiles to himself, remembering when he came home from a mission a few weeks ago and you were fast asleep. Bucky will never forget how absolutely adorable you looked curled up in the large bed, hugging his pillow tightly and wearing his favorite shirt. After a few moments of watching you from the doorway, he slipped carefully under the covers and pulled you into his arms. You sighed deeply when you felt his arms around you and he kissed your cheek and neck softly until you smiled and mumbled his name in your sleep. When you opened your eyes, you had the most beautiful smile and told him your dream came true.

Bucky reaches your bedroom door and listens for a moment to see if your still up reading. Instead of hearing a soft giggle or pages turning, he hears you groan and say something he can't quite make out. He pushes the door open, his eyes quickly adjusting to how bright the room is.

The lamp on your side of the bed is still on and a book lays open on the bed but it falls to the floor when you roll over quickly and yank on the sheets. It takes Bucky a moment to realize you're not trying to get comfortable, you're having a nightmare.

You squeeze your eyes closed tightly and breath heavily as your nightmare intensifies. "Bucky... come home," you mumble, kicking at the sheet as you scream those words in your dream.

Bucky sits on the edge of the bed and tries to reach for you but you roll over once again, your legs now tangled in the sheet from trying to kick it away. He gently grabs ahold of the sheet and frees your legs so you don't make it worse, "Y/N, wake up." You don't respond to him or notice when he climbs onto the bed next to you.

"Please... come back..." you beg in your sleep as several tears land on Bucky's pillow. You turn your head and groan again in your sleep.

He moves closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and talking gently to you. "Wake up, baby you're having a nightmare," he tells you as he pulls you onto his chest and rubs your back.

You open your eyes suddenly, gasping as the images from your nightmare repeat in your mind. "Bucky..." you breath out his name and try to catch your breath.

Your body tenses at the sudden contact and he loosens his hold of you but doesn't let go completely. He can feel your shakey breathing and rapid heartbeat as your chest rests on his. He kisses the top of your head lightly and rubs your back again. "Y/N, open your eyes for me. You're having a bad dream, you need to wake up," he says a little louder to break through your deep sleep.

"You're okay doll, I'm here," he says, his arms hold you to his chest, letting you know he's really with you.

"You didn't come home," you tell him as your eyes fill with tears. You press your cheek against his chest and hug him back tightly.

He rubs your back in slow circles and kisses the top of your head several times. "I'm so sorry, we hit some rough weather and I didn't want to worry you," Bucky says, his heart breaking when he realizes he is the cause of your nightmare.

You look up at him, "Bucky, I always worry about you. I'm always afraid you're not going to come home."

He wipes away a tear that rolls slowly down your cheek then kisses your cheek lightly. You give him a small smile and he says, "I'm sorry I didn't text you. I know I should have but I'm always going to come home."

"You promise?" you ask, biting your lip nervously.

His fingers move under your chin and he tilts your head up so he can kiss your lips like he haa wanted to since he left you days ago. You kiss him back deeply, closing your eyes as his hand slides down your lower back. When he finally breaks the kiss, he smiles, "I promise Y/N. I may be late sometimes, but I will always come home to you, always."

You smile and place a quick kiss to his lips then rest your head on his shoulder. "You better, cause I really like you," you giggle and wait for his response.

"You really like me?" he repeats and you nod without lifting your head, smiling wider. "Well that's awkward cause I love you," he says.

"So awkward," you agree then jump as Bucky suddenly begins to tickle you. You giggle and squirm in his arms, trying to get away.

"Tell me you love me," he says with a smirk as he continues to tickle you.

You shake your head no but there's no escaping him. Bucky waits for you to lift your head so he can kiss your cheeks and nose, his fingers still tickling your body. "I... love... you," you manage to force those three words out between laughs and he smiles down at you, his hands now resting calmly on your back.

"That's better," he kisses your lips then reaches over and turns off the light. "Goodnight doll," you can hear the smile in his voice as he pulls the sheet back up around you both.

"Goodnight Bucky," you answer with a yawn as you curl up against him. You kiss his cheek and close your eyes, feeling more comfortable and relaxed than you have in days. His metal fingers run gently up and down your arm as you drift off to sleep.

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

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[newtmas-supremxcy]

Buddie are literally modern day stucky if they met later in life

Edit: lmaooo I just realised that Kenneth choi who plays chim also plays one of the howling commandos he's been third wheeling since the fricken 40s

[honda-odyssey-the-queer-allegory]

JUSTICE FOR ALPINE

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆