#bucky why that sassy response

[meep-meep-richie]

hashtag no i'm not a sassy ass jealous bf over here

[notafunkiller]

she chose me

Summary: Steve's hopes get crushed when he wrongly assumes you'd choose him over Bucky.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x agent!female reader

Warnings: 18+, no condom (but f is on birth control), teasing, pet names, jealousy, sergeant + sir + daddy kìnk, vibranium arm kìnk, language, degrading, praising, no mention of y/n etc.

Word Count: 6.9K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you’ll enjoy it! This was inspired by the "She chose me." TikTok trend.

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

You’re all quiet, watching the back and forth between Cap and Bucky. Not even Sam intervenes.

“You didn’t-”

“This is just not gonna work, Buck.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, with an expression you like to describe as bitchy. He’s so sassy without even intending to, and you wonder how bitchier he’d be if this wasn’t his best friend talking.

“Let’s see if people agree.”

He looks around waving at you and the rest of the team while Sam just snorts, covering his mouth with his hand.

But you’re not amused because you have no idea how to handle this diplomatically.

“Whose side are you on?” Steve’s tone is deep and authoritative, making you feel a little uneasy.

You don’t know how to talk to Avengers sometimes. You are on friendly terms, even when you train. Sam always cracks jokes, Steve shares stories and gives advice, and Bucky is Bucky. Nat and Sam call him The Machine for a reason. But he’s a really good professor and an even better observer. He pays attention to every recruit and remembers what they need to work on. You find him extra intimidating because he’s also the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. No exaggeration. And it’s not in the usual clean and golden boy way you are used to, anyway. He’s been through shit and it’s showing in the way he carries himself and doesn’t talk much when it’s not needed.

But you pay attention too, and this is why you think you were chosen to lead the recruits for this mission. You are on good terms with the Avengers, and Bucky probably approved the idea of working with you because you didn’t piss him off like most do. You know he hates chit chat, you learned how to read most of his stares and to not take it personally when he makes remarks about your fighting skills. They’re not your strongest asset, but you have a flair and you come up with the best solutions under pressure. You managed to pin him down once for a few seconds, and that is probably your greatest achievement.

But in moments like this, you don’t know how to say things without upsetting one side.

“You won’t get in trouble, don’t worry,” Bucky adds confidently. You’re not surprised when four out of your six colleagues agree with Bucky. They explain quickly why, emphasizing how much faster and efficient it would be if you followed that route, but their voices are still trembling. And you get it. Telling Captain America to his face you prefer his best friend’s plan over his will always be a risk. But if he gets mad, that says more about him as a leader than about anyone else.

Sam raises his hands in the air defensively, probably enjoying this as a show, but based on the looks he shares with Bucky, it seems like he agrees with him too.

You try to find your words, knowing you’re the last one from your team to speak, but before you can even open your mouth, Steve already smiles, pointing at you with his index finger. “Look at this, though! She agrees with me… She chose me.”

His grin is cold and a little arrogant. What you don’t notice, though, is the intention Steve had when he decided to use those exact words, but Bucky does. And he clenches his jaw at the same time his vibranium hand curls into a fist; a silent response to the not-so-innocent assumption that Steve made.

After a few seconds, Bucky leans in, his gaze steady and confident. “Did she?”

There is no way you would pick Steve’s plan. You are too smart and you have too much integrity to pick his side just to kiss his ass. He raises an eyebrow at you this time, a confident smirk forming on his lips. “Did you really choose him? You really think his plan would work better, doll?”

You feel surrounded by Bucky… attacked even. Your cheeks are getting hotter, too, and you know there is nothing you can do to hide your redness. Doll… He called you that when he turned you again on your back the day you managed to pin him down. It’s something about the way he says it that makes it absolutely deadly. Your first instinct was to be offended, but you reminded yourself he is a man born in 1917. He lived his twenties in the 40s, and doll was used as slang for sweetheart.

Taking a deep breath, you tilt your head slightly, directing your response to Steve. “It’s not about choosing sides, but considering all perspectives for the best outcome. And your plan, Captain, has its strengths, but I’m inclined to agree with Sergeant Bucky.” You bite your lip. “It’s about finding the most effective strategy for the mission, not a personal preference of any kind.”

Steve’s smile falls off, but your attention shifts back to Bucky’s grin that lightens up his face.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Well, then,” Steve sighs. “Can I have a word with you in private?”

You don’t realize he’s speaking to you until he says your name.

Surprised, you jump. “Yes, of course.”

*

Steve leans back in his chair, a slight smile playing on his lips as you write down the last details. “You know, I value your insights on the mission.”

You look surprised because how can he value your opinion when this is your second mission only? He’s Captain America!

“Oh?”

“I trust your judgment, and your training is going great. If you and the team chose Bucky’s plan, then we do it.” You see his jaw clench, though, so you know it’s not easy for him to say it. Even if it’s his friend… interesting. “Maybe, when all is over, we could grab a cup of coffee and talk about other things. What do you think?”

You’re silent for a couple of seconds, trying to realize if he means it in the way you think he is. There is no way, right?

Just in case, you offer him a friendly smile, “Thanks, Cap! I value our teamwork too. Coffee sounds great after. It could be a good way for all of us to unwind as a team.”

He nods, sighing. “I’m glad you’re on board. I’m looking forward to that coffee, even if it’s with the whole team. And please, call me Steve.”

So he was flirting…

“Thank you,” you pause as you stand up. “I’m gonna talk with Sergeant Barnes so we can get things ready for tomorrow. Have a good night, Steve!”

*

You knock only three times before the door opens and a Bucky dressed in shorts and a white tank top lets you in with a smirk.

“Sergeant Barnes,” you nod as you take a step inside his bedroom. He only stays here before and after missions when he is too tired to go to his apartment, so you don’t expect to see any personal objects there except for a few clothes.

“What happened to Bucky?”

You look at him surprised, tightening your hold on the tablet you are holding.

What?

“Sir?”

Bucky closes his eyes for a second. “Earlier, during the meeting, you called me Sergeant Bucky.”

Shit!

Maybe you should start calling him Sergeant Barnes in your head as well to avoid these fucks up. You feel so embarrassed that you want to disappear. You don’t want him to think you disrespect him in any way. His rank carries a lot of weight and trauma.

You clear your throat, slightly flustered. “My apologies, Sergeant Barnes. It won’t happen again, sir.” You offer him an apologetic smile while trying very hard to maintain a professional tone.

Bucky’s smirk softens as he places his flesh hand on your shoulder. You feel your legs transforming into jelly.

“My point was, doll, there is no need to be so formal. We’re off-duty here, and titles aren’t necessary. Just call me Bucky.”

“Alright, Bucky,” you smile. “I’m sorry for bothering you, but I came to discuss the plan for tomorrow. I talked to Steve and we agreed it would be wise for you to lead the way as Mr. Wilson-”

“Steve?” Bucky interrupts before you can finish your sentence. He doesn’t even bother to look at your tablet, either.

“Yes, we talked in the office.”

“No, I get that. But you call him Steve? What happened to Cap?” Bucky knows that might sound really childish, but he can’t help it. What is Steve trying to do?

Was it some kind of test? Did you misunderstand everything with Steve?

“Oh, Cap allowed me to call him Steve earlier. I am sorry if it sounded disrespectful.”

He squeezes your shoulder even before moving his hand to your chin, raising your face, and you feel yourself blushing again.

The blue of his eyes is so intense that you can’t see how anyone would be able to survive it.

“You apologize too much, doll. I don’t like it.”

You can’t breathe. “Sor-” You pause, realizing he is right. Apologizing is second nature to you. It feels wrong when you don’t, and you do it without even thinking about it. “I guess I do that a lot. I’ll work on it, Bucky.”

“I’m not your teacher right now, doll.” He smiles, letting go of your chin. “Just remember, we’re not all about formalities here. Relax a bit.”

Easier said than done. But you need to keep it together and ignore the urge to grab his face and finally kiss him. So you focus on talking about the mission and the members of the team. You talk about all of your colleagues, and Bucky helps you take notes. He switched so easily from friendly to the sergeant mode, which is fascinating.

He explains step by step your positions, the way things are gonna happen and even two back up plans. Two!

You’re not overwhelmed by the amount of information, but you’re quite surprised by how much he talks and how well he answers every possible question any of you could have. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him speak for more than a few seconds continuously so you try to focus on every word.

Only when he finishes and you close your tablet after sending everyone the plan, do you see him relaxing again.

With a smirk, he asks you, “How did Steve take it?”

“He was fine with the plan, even suggested if we feel like doing it, to get one or two more members. But based on what you said, we won’t need it.”

“He has a point, of course, but if you said you don’t think you need it, good.” You try not to stare at his lips as he speaks, but it’s so hard. “And I meant how he took that you chose my plan. That you chose me.”

You meet Bucky’s gaze, trying to keep your composure, “Steve seemed more than okay with it from what I saw. He values the team’s decision. Plus, it’s not about choosing sides, and-”

“And not a personal preference of any kind,” he interrupts just to quote you, and you don’t know if you should feel flattered he remembers word by word or to prepare yourself for a negative reaction. To be honest, your head is spinning and him being so close makes it worse. “I heard you very well, but I’m curious…”

He extends his hand and carefully tucks your hair behind your ears. You swear you can hear your own heartbeat going crazy. And if you do, so does he.

“About what?”

“Would the answer be different if it was about personal preferences, doll? Would you choose him?”

You freeze. You are simply in shock because this cannot happen to you. From Steve asking you out earlier to your crush basically doing this. You’re confused and a little tired, but you didn’t imagine all of this. Does Bucky want you? Is that it?

You take a deep breath praying you won’t choke on the words. “In a hypothetical scenario based on personal preferences, Bucky, I would still not pick him.”

Your voice is trembling, but you maintain eye contact even after admitting it. You didn’t choose Bucky’s plan because of your crush, so you shouldn’t feel embarrassed or exposed. He’s the one who let you call him Bucky, who touched you and asked you that. You don’t know if he counts romance as a personal preference, but there is an urge inside you to find out. You wonder how he’d taste, if he’d kiss you back if you kissed him first, how your mission would be if you crossed the line. Your thoughts are foggy.

“So you’d choose me.”

You clear your throat. “Yes.”

“Over Captain America.” His grin is so boyish and cute that it makes you smile. He looks younger and less… burdened when he gets like this. Bucky chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Well, well, well. Looks like I got someone not kissing Captain America’s ass for a change. That’s really rare. You’re a naughty one, aren’t you?”

You mask your gasp with a cough, deciding to play along, a sly grin forming on your face. “Maybe I just have a thing for underdogs.”

Bucky’s eyes light up with amusement to your annoyance but also excitement, and he leans in, taking the tablet from your hand and placing it on the floor without a care. “Underdogs, huh? Ouch, that hurt a little. I thought I was your favorite super-soldier.”

You can’t help but giggle, feeling enough encouragement from his reaction to touch his vibranium arm just to feel it. You got the chance to do it only for a couple of seconds and it always fascinated you, especially the golden pattern. The fact he can feel everything because it’s connected to his nerves is insane to you. It probably is to him too. “Oh, you are. And my favorite teacher too. But a little competition never hurts, Sergeant Barnes.”

You can see he feigns offense. “Competition, huh?” Bucky’s playfulness turns into a serious tone as he adds, “Well, let me show you why I’m the only choice.”

And without warning, he closes the distance between you and kisses you.

You gasp, taken aback, but you bring your hands to his face and hip before you deepen the kiss. He’s not as gentle as you expected, his left arm flying to your ass and bringing your hips closer to his immediately.

You moan when you feel his hard on so close to your pussy, and tug on his hair a little.

“Aren’t you a naughty girl?” He lowers his lips to your jaw. “I could basically smell how wet you got earlier as soon as I called you doll. And so did Steve.”

You want to open your eyes and tell him to stop talking about his friend. You don’t want to be turned off, but he already continues.

“He thought he stood a chance with my girl.”

“Your girl?” You whimper when his teeth graze your neck before his tongue licks on the spot. He intends to leave a mark, you have no doubt, and you absolutely love it.

“Mine.” His whisper makes you shiver. “I want to mark you. The thought of having you covered in hickeys during the mission makes me so hard it almost hurts. Gonna show everyone you belong to me.”

“Do I belong to you, Sergeant Barnes?” You take a step back but let your hand linger on his chest teasingly. “Because I don’t remember you asking me to dinner.”

Bucky grins. “Dinner is a classic move, and I adapted very well to the present. But of course I can stop with the kisses right now, and we can have some late dinner.”

You roll your eyes at his unbelievably good answer. Fucker!

“This is not what I meant, Barnes, and you know it.”

“I don’t know it. But I want to know something else.”

You don’t even doubt he means something dirty because it’s too obvious.

“Like what?”

“Like how your pretty pussy tastes while you come all over my face.”

You gasp at the no-filter words. You’re so used to Steve’s warning you to use proper language, that you did not expect it.

“I thought men your age were all about being proper and refined… Don’t they teach subtlety in the 40s etiquette class or did you skip it?”

You tease him on purpose, and he knows it. You are well aware what a nerd he was in school. Such a nerd that it was displayed in the museum. You snort. You were a nerd too, so you love it.

Bucky chuckles, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he brings his hands to your pants, unzipping them without warning. Holy. Shit. The way you love this. He reads your body language very well and he has his super soldier senses.

“Well, doll, proper and refined went out the window with the 40s, right? Because otherwise you’d not be standing here letting me undress you.”

You raise your eyebrow, a mix of surprise and amusement on your face. His energy is so light, and he looks like a man without a worry in moments like this.

“You’re the one who offered to show me what the little upgraded version of you can do, after all.” You take off your shoes before pulling down your pants as soon as he drags them to your ankles. You can’t believe you’re about to fuck James Bucky Barnes! “Why would I say no?”

“Just sit back and enjoy the ride, doll. Gonna make sure you have the time of your life.”

You snort, amused by his eagerness, and decide to take off your shirt yourself to see his reaction. And he doesn’t disappoint.

He grins like a child, his hands flying straight to your back without taking his eyes off your chest. And before you know it, your bra is on the floor and Bucky cups your breasts, bringing your left tit to his mouth.

If you gasped when you felt the cold touch of the vibranium, now you moan loudly, enjoying the way he licks around your skin. He avoids your nipple on purpose, so you decide to take matters into your own hands quite literally and get a grab of the top of his hair, forcing him to suck on your nipple.

“Fuck! I didn’t expect you to be so whorish,” you say without realizing, and you feel his snort and breath on the wet patch he left with his tongue.

Bucky’s grin turns into a sly smirk. “This is what you call whorish? I guess I’ll give you an experience you won’t ever forget.”

“Talk less, do more.”

You want to enjoy more of this. You have a mission in a few hours, and it might be just a one time thing anyway since he is Bucky Barnes. You don’t want to get your hopes high.

Bucky lets go of your breast with a pop and moves up, raising your head so he can kiss you.

It’s electrifying, and desperate, and not enough. You move your hands to the bottom hem of his tank top and lift it, interrupting the kiss so you can take it off completely. You just want to feel him, all of him.

You step back for a second, wanting to look at him properly, but you notice a change in his eyes that he, of course, tries to mask.

“Why are you nervous? You look like a fucking god! I should be nervous here.”

Bucky’s eyes flicker with vulnerability.

“I guess I’m not used to someone seeing my scars or my,” he waves toward his vibranium arm, and you frown.

“I will sound totally weird, but they all make you really cool, Serge.” You trace down a few scars when you see he is completely relaxed and continue. “Do I have to lick them all to make you believe me?”

You move your hands under his shorts before he can answer, though, finally touching his cock. You both moan at the feeling. He’s hard and thick, and the head is wet. You bring your fingers to his lips, smearing some of the precome before leaning in to suck it off.

You’re not prepared for his moan or for the way he attacks your mouth, and definitely not for him to snap your underwear using his flesh hand. Not even his vibranium one!

You moan into his mouth. He makes you feel like you’re floating and you need to fuck him right then.

“You’re not just whorish, you’re a whore!” You pause when you feel his fingers close to your entrance. “No wonder why you didn’t belong in the 40s.” Then you move, allowing him to touch you. You don’t realize what you said, and when you do, in the middle of dragging his shorts down, you curse yourself in your mind. It sounds like the most disrespectful thing ever. This man’s fate was changed by monsters who cryogenically freezing him and brainwashing him, and you are selfishly talking as if he belonged to you. “I’m sorry that was awful of-” But he interrupts you before you can get a chance to properly apologize.

“You like that, don’t you?”

A wave of shame surges through your body. Your cheeks are burning.

“I’m really sorry,” you take your hands off his shorts and look away, not even peaking at his cock. You ruined it, didn’t you? “I will just go.”

Bucky shakes his head, puffing. “For such an amazing agent, you’re not a good room reader, are you?”

Your eyes finally drop to his cock, which you’ve been trying to avoid in the last minute out of shame, but there’s no need anymore since he’s teasing you. He’s just a bit longer than average, and he’s really thick, and the veins do not make it ugly at all. You are curious how it’d feel in your hand, how much it’d twitch, how Bucky would moan.

“You aren’t a good room reader, either then, Barnes, since I’m not getting dicked down and my hair pulled, am I?”

Something snaps in him, and it’s visible in his eyes. You don’t know what to expect so you just watch him. But you can’t. He is so quick that, despite your crazy training, you don’t anticipate his move. His hand wraps around the hair from your nape and fists it hard enough for you to move along with him.

“Wanna be dicked down? Fine by me, get on your hands and knees.”

You’re surprised, of course you are, but his tone is firm and you find yourself nodding and doing what he told you. You know you can say no; there is nothing in Bucky’s energy that makes you feel unsafe or as if you have no choice.

At the same time, he lets go of your hair just so he can take off his shorts completely.

“Are you not gonna make sure I’m wet enough for you?” You ask when you see him getting closer to you again, even though you are very wet. You just want to push his buttons.

“I can smell you if I focus on it, let me remind you.” He smiles. “I know you’re soaked, and you wanna be dicked down. Or are you backing off?”

Challenging prick!

You roll your eyes. “I’m not scared of your dick.”

“Good, because he wants to be friends with you.”

You close your eyes, cringing. “God, you were this close to turning me off.” You raise your hand in the air, putting your weight on the left one as you bring your thumb and index finger close to each other to show him exactly what a thin line this was.

Bucky laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna make you forget it in a second.”

Your first instinct is to want to tease him about the second remark, to ask him if this is how long he can last, but you’re too horny now. And you also need rest for the mission tomorrow.

“How, uh…” You pause not knowing how to ask this properly. “Can you, uh, make babies?” You cringe at your words. “I mean, widows can’t… and I just wanted to know if we need a condom to be extra careful since you might be extra fertile because I am on the pill and I have no idea how sex with a super sold-”

Bucky’s lips press against yours suddenly, making you stop talking.

“Breathe.”

“I’m breathing,” you whisper and he cups your face.

“Not enough. We can use a condom if you want, but I’ll need to check where I can find one. Or we can go bare if you trust me… I can pull out and you are already protected, so there shouldn’t be a problem, I think.” He pauses to kiss your lips again. “But we can still use a condom anyway to be extra careful as you said.”

You frown at that, suddenly more desperate to feel him bare than ever before.

“No, I trust you. I have never done it without a condom before, and I assume you didn’t have much time to uh… have sex.”

Bucky snorts amused. “Now why do you assume that?”

“You look like you haven’t been fucked since 1945.”

The fact he doesn’t even deny it makes you feel even bolder, so you reach for his cock and place your thumb on his wet head while wrapping the rest of your hand around the length. “Are you gonna even last for a second once you’re inside me, Sergeant Barnes?” You snort when you see him trying to hold back his moan by biting his lip. It makes you feel happy. “Or do you even manage to get inside me before- ahh!” He is predictable this time as he pulls your hair, so you laugh.

“Are you familiar with this whole red, yellow, green color code?”

You gasp. “Yes, read about it, never needed it. But how do you know that?”

“I read about it, too.” His grin is so wide and beautiful that you melt again.

“Quite naughty of you, Serge. Reading dirty books. Needed some ideas?”

Bucky smirks, kissing you again and again. “Gonna need a review after I finish with you.”

“You finishing with me?” You smile. “Big words, Barnes, but no action.”

He knows you challenge him, and you don’t try to hide it. Do you have to beg for his cock for him to finally fuck you? He is edging you on purpose at this point.

You let out a whimper in anticipation when he moves behind you.

“Are you sure you’re fine with no condom?”

“Ihm, I’m not ovulating anyway,” you whisper, trying not to sound too eager. But you are. You want to get dicked down, indeed. And you wanted it for months.

His silence makes you a bit nervous, but the sounds of him dropping to his knees behind you, followed by his hand grabbing his cock and positioning it at your entrance while squeezing your hip with the metal arm.

You love the sensation of the coldness, but you love even more when he leans in to kiss your back before he pushes inside you.

It takes two tries, though, for him to be able to push halfway inside you because you kept pushing his dick out of you instantly. You managed to take him only when he brought his fingers to your clit and rubbed a bit.

You still laughed though because the sounds were too funny and his little frustrated whimpers were hilarious. The amusement turns quickly into more horniness when you feel him stretching you without even being fully inside you. You dreamed and daydreamed about it… fantasized about it, but it still wasn’t even close to how it actually feels. How full it feels. It’s like you cannot even think, your body is weak.

“Fuck,” your voice is cracking. “Deeper.”

“You’re so fucking tight,” he whispers.

“So?” You bring your hand to his ass, trying to show him you really need it deeper. “Why do you make it sound like a bad thing? Or are you trying not to come, Mr. Super Soldier?”

“You have quite a mouth on you, I think you need it-”

“You talk way too much. Are you nervous or-” It’s his turn to interrupt you with a thrust. Such a deep thrust your head is spinning. He’s not fully inside you, you realize, but he doesn’t try to, instead, he starts to fuck you, taking your breath away. His fingers leave your clit, grabbing your hips with both hands.

There is no question anymore, just fucking as you wanted.

And it feels like heaven. You try to keep your eyes open just so you look at him over your shoulder, but it’s impossible.

“Cat got your tongue?”

You groan. “No, you did, n-now fuck me harder.”

“Well, well,” he slows down and you almost wanna die. “This is not how you talk to your Sergeant, is it?”

He can’t do this!

“Fuck you!”

“What does my baby want?” His thrusts are too slow and teasing, just like his voice. “Use your words, beg for it.”

You’re not turned off, surprisingly. Not at all, on the contrary, the firm tone he uses, the words… you’re getting hornier, if that is even possible.

“I love your cock, Sergeant, so please give it to me. Fuck me harder and faster. Need you to pull my hair, and choke me, and… be rough.” You would be embarrassed if you weren’t so desperate. You know he wouldn’t make fun of you for this, so you trust him.

“Only mine.” You take a deep breath relieved when you feel his right hand wrap around your hair. “Do you hear me? Answer me.”

You nod, unable to say anything because he starts to thrust hard and fast, just like he did before he stopped. Your tits are jumping at the impact, and you have to dig your toes into the floor.

“Use your words. If you want my,” he moans. “If you want my cock and my hand wrapped around your neck, you have to use your big girl words. Tell me you’re only mine.”

You can’t hold back your tears this time. You love it so much, you can’t believe you waited so long to have him.

“Only yours.”

“No Steve.”

He lets go of your hair, wrapping his hand around your neck. No pressure, not moving it, he’s just holding it there.

“There’s n-no Steve, Sergeant. Only you. My pussy belongs to you. I o-only want to get filled by you.”

You know he’s smiling without needing to look at him.

“You love your Sergeant’s cock, don’t you?” You have no idea how he’s able to speak while thrusting so hard. He’s a fucking robot, indeed. “No one else could give you this, no matter how much they tried.”

You feel the building in your core. You’re so, so close already, so you try to place your weight on only one hand and bring the other to cover his, and before he can say something, you encourage him to choke you by pressing his fingers on the sides of your neck.

You moan so loudly you surprise even yourself. You sound like a cat.

“Please, sergeant, please, choke me.” You repeat your move and you close your eyes. “Please, daddy, I’m so c-close.”

He pauses for a second, and you don’t know why.

Before you can ask what’s wrong, he doesn’t just start to thrust inside you again, he dicks you down just the way you wanted. It’s as if he fucks the air out of your lungs every time you exhale. You’re crying and screaming at this point, so loud the whole floor must hear you. But you’re not ashamed. You feel so close you can almost taste it.

You barely hear his whimpers, but they’re there and they’re so beautiful.

You get no warning when he decides to squeeze the sides of your neck: gently at first, but then? Perfect. So perfect you come without warning, not being able to even say his name. You just scream some nonsense, your hand dropping from his to the floor so you can ground yourself properly. Your whole body is burning, and burning, and burning, coming alive for what feels like an eternity.

He doesn’t wait even for a second after you come down from your orgasm. Instead, he gets his dick out of you, grabbing you by your ass and raising you in his arms. Still weak, you barely have the strength to wrap your legs around his waist and your hands around his neck. He’s sweaty but not that hot. His metal arm is making you cool down.

“Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.” His lips find your forehead and you fight the urge to kiss his neck. You feel so small in his arms… and as if no one can hurt you.

You’re smiling like a fool when your back hits his bed, and so is he. Such a beautiful, blinding smile.

You let him spread your legs before you drag his face down so you can kiss him. You bite his lip hard until he opens his mouth, moaning when you feel him entering you again. This time, you’re relaxed so he thrusts inside you so much easier.

“Gonna make you come again around your daddy’s cock..”

His hands wrap your legs around his ass when he starts to thrust again.

“You’re quite… into it, Sergeant Barnes. So dirty!”

He gently grabs your jaw. “Tongue out.”

You do it, opening your mouth and waiting, and waiting until you finally understand what he’s about to do.

Instead of being grossed out, as you expected, you eagerly swallow the saliva that he lets drip from his mouth, which lands on your tongue.

You bat your eyes as you start to move your hips to meet his thrusts halfway, and that sends him into a frenzy.

“Fucking hell, you don’t want to sleep tonight, do you?” He asks sarcastically, but you don’t have enough air to tease him with a stamina comment. “You want me to make you scream and swallow my spit and come till we have to go to that fucking mission. Till your beloved Steve needs to come to us himself and hear us covered in come but still fucking.” You moan at the idea of your teammates finding out about this. You get awful comments anyway; at least you can get him for real and rub it in their faces. “You would like that, wouldn’t ya? Having all my undivided attention on you, not caring that my best friend is mad…” The thrusts are so deep that your head falls on the pillow instantly. You cannot keep your eyes open for even a second and you’re crying again. “Not caring my pal wanted you so badly he even tried to take you out tonight.”

“Sergeant-”

Thrust after thrust. You grab his forearm as tightly as you can so you can have something to hold onto.

“He thought he could have you, that you’d choose him. Come on, love. Come on, scream my name, let them hear. Let them all hear whose cock you cry for. Who is the one you belong to.” His balls slap against your skin so hard they tickle you. But not even that can distract you from almost reaching your orgasm. His words, his cock, his possessiveness…

“Sergeant, please. No one but you, can I… c-can I touch my clit? I’m so, so close.”

You don’t have to, though, because he is quick enough to bring his flesh hand between your bodies and rub your clit just the way you need it.

“F-fuck, coming,” you manage to warn him before the pleasure hits you. It’s so overwhelming you see white, digging your nails into his forearm.

You don’t know what you call him… daddy, Bucky or sergeant, but it doesn’t matter. You hear his praise, how you’re his good girl, and his words encouraging you to come for him.

When you can focus again, you kiss him with everything you have.

“Need you to come for me, Sergeant Barnes,” you whisper between kisses. “Need you to come inside me, need you to fill me up with your come, sir.”

He hisses loudly, his eyes being more grey than blue.

“Don’t tease me.”

“I mean it,” you make eye contact, wrapping your legs tighter around him. “Not the heat of the moment. I need your come, daddy. I’m on birth-”

He kisses you so hard your teeth end up hitting, but you don’t care. This is everything.

“Gonna come, gonna give you what you want. Gonna make you my come s-slut. Is that what you needed?”

“Yes, yes.” You’re so excited to watch him finish you don’t even realize how much you like being called his come slut until he says it again. “Come on, Sergeant, come for me.”

After you say that, it only takes him two more thrusts to finish, moaning your name.

His eyes close, and you notice how pretty his eyelashes are. And the little moles on his face… his mouth semi-open and his hair in all directions.

You want to witness this every day.

Before you can stop yourself, you lean in to kiss his nose and cheeks, letting your hips move at the same time.

“C-can’t… doesn’t stop,” he manages to groan, and you bring your hand to his nape, caressing his hair as he rides out his orgasm.

When he finally finishes, though, his head falls on top of your breasts, his mouth finding your nipple and playing with it before sucking it fully into his mouth.

“Easy, Bucky,” you moan, but he keeps going, though.

You have to pull his hair, to make him stop.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but I need to uh… I’m tired.”

You’re back to your shy self. But his smile still makes you feel so relaxed.

“Got you tired, huh?” He winks, giving your breasts a kiss before pressing his lips against yours. “Fuck, I’ve never been so aroused in my entire life. Won’t even mention how happy I am.”

“Me neither,” you whisper.

“Well, we need to get used to it.”

You laugh so happily that you think your chest will explode. It’s surreal.

“You owe me that dinner after all.”

“A million dinners.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Trying to charm me?”

He pecks you one more time before getting out of you with a whimper.

“I’ve already done it.”

It’s weird to be empty like this again, but seeing your come and wetness on his pubic hair or dripping out of your pussy just to soak the sheets beneath you distracts you. You made a mess.

“We need to clean this.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says distractedly as he uses his index finger to push some come back inside you. Jesus! “This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You smile. “You’re a whore.”

“Your whore.” He slowly gets out of bed, grabbing his shorts from the floor.

“Want me to go?” You ask all of a sudden, gaining a confused look from him.

“Why would I want that? Unless you do, of course…” He runs a hand through his hair, trying to fix it a little. “But I want you to stay.”

“Saw you dressing.” You bring your knees up just to put your chin on top of them. You feel extra shy.

He smiles. “Just gonna get you some water. I don’t want you dehydrated.”

*

Bucky knew Steve was in the kitchen as soon as he went down the stairs. He smiles casually, not giving him a second look as he goes straight to the fridge. It’s not like he hasn’t seen him in shorts or shirtless before, and Bucky knows he knew exactly what happened upstairs.

“Can’t sleep?” Steve’s tone is so obvious Bucky almost laughs.

“Not sleepy yet. What about you? You’re alright, punk?”

“Yeah,” he says, taking a sip from his own glass of water; his hands tightly wrapped around the glass.

“Still mad about earlier? You know I’m right.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, it’s all good.”

Bucky sighs dramatically. He loves Steve, he is his brother, but sometimes he is so annoying.

“Well, try to get some sleep. I suggest you wear some earplugs or something, though,” Bucky suggests casually, taking a whole bottle of water. “We wouldn’t want you too sleepy tomorrow. And the night is young.” He even winks at Steve, making him clear his throat.

“Buck…”

“Not a super soldier perk, I know, but you understand, right?” The smirk he suddenly gives Steve is almost sinister. “She chose me after all, and I gotta let her test-drive me. Have a good night!”

Even though he turns around, Bucky doesn’t miss the way Steve’s hold gets so tight that his glass almost breaks.

Bucky doesn’t regret it. He had it coming when he thought you’d choose him.

[rootedinrevisions]

Never Left Me: Part 1

PART SUMMARY: Lauren is working at the law office she shares with her fiancé, Jonathan, when she receives the heartbreaking call from her father about her mother’s passing. Overcome with grief, Lauren struggles to process the loss, and Jonathan is by her side, offering unwavering support as she begins to prepare for the trip back to Arkansas. As she packs, Jonathan notices her unease, suspecting that something beyond her mother’s death is weighing on her. The tension between them grows when he gently pushes her to open up about why she’s avoided returning home for so long, but Lauren remains vague, unable to reveal the real reason: her unresolved past with Tyler. The car ride to Arkansas is heavy with silence, broken only by Jonathan’s attempts at conversation, but Lauren’s thoughts are far away. When they finally arrive at her childhood farmhouse, Lauren is hit with the weight of both her loss and the past she’s been running from for eight years.

WARNINGS: Death of a parent. Grief.

WORD COUNT: 5.5k

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 I @saucy-sassy-sparkly  I  @alipap3  I  @dudinhastuff  I  @lunatygerqueen  I  @hookslove1592  I  @glenpowellluver  I  @missmarveledsblog  I  @calirindo

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! (I currently have one for Glen Powell & His Characters, One for Bradley/Rooster now, and then a third for WWE/Wrestling. I also can create one for Bucky & other MCU characters if there's interest for more of those characters!)

Lauren sat at her desk in the bustling Sinclair Law Office, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she handled the influx of calls and emails that came with a typical Monday morning. The office hummed with activity–paralegals rushing by with stacks of documents, attorneys deep in conversation with clients, and the steady rhythm of phones ringing.

Lauren paused for a moment, glancing at the neatly organized piles of paperwork that awaited her attention. She had always prided herself on her efficiency and attention to detail, qualities that made her invaluable to the firm. Even on days like this, when the workload seemed endless, she found a certain satisfaction in her role.

As she sorted through the documents, her gaze drifted across the hallway to the office directly opposite her desk. The door was slightly ajar, offering her a clear view of Jonathan Sinclair, her fiance, as he spoke with a client.

Jonathan was in his element, gesturing animatedly as he explained the intricacies of a case. His passion for his work was evident in the way his gray eyes sparked with intensity, his voice steady and authoritative. He had always been this way, fully immersed in his work, driven by a deep-seated commitment to justice–a commitment that had been passed down through generations in his family.

Watching him, Lauren felt a wave of warmth and contentment wash over her. She allowed herself to imagine, just for a moment, walking down the aisle toward him, dressed in white, the culmination of all their plans and dreams. In a few short months, she would be his wife, and they would start their life together–a life she had always envisioned as perfect.

The thought brought a soft smile to her lips, momentarily distracting her from the work in front of her. But only for a moment. With a small sigh, she refocused on the task at hand, determined to stay on top of her responsibilities. The wedding could wait. For now, she had work to do.

Lauren was deep in her work, her mind focused on the task at hand, when she noticed one of the other paralegals, Jenna, walking toward her desk. Jenna’s expression was unreadable, her steps brick as she approached.

“Lauren, there’s a call for you on Line 2,” Jenna said, her voice steady but with an undercurrent of something that made Lauren pause.

“Did they say who it was?” Lauren asked, her fingers stilling on the keyboard as she looked up at Jenna.

Jenna shook her head, a slight furrow between her brows. “No, they didn’t give a name. Just said it was urgent.”

A flicker of concern passed through Lauren, but she pushed it aside, assuming it was a client who didn’t want to be kept waiting. With a quick nod, she reached for the phone, pressing the button for Line 2.

“This is Lauren Allen, how can I help you?” she said, her tone professional and composed, as she prepared to jot down a message or take note of a request.

But the voice on the other end of the line stopped her cold. It was her father, Mike Allen, and she could hear the strain in his voice, the way it trembled with barely contained emotion.

“Lauren…” he began, his voice thick with something that made Lauren’s heart skip a beat.

“Dad? What’s going on?” she asked quickly, her professional demeanor slipping away as a sense of dread began to build in her chest.

There was a brief pause, the kind that seemed to stretch on forever, before her father spoke again, his voice breaking slightly as he delivered the words that would change everything.

“Lauren…your mother…she lost her battle with cancer. She’s gone.”

The world seemed to still, the noise of the office fading into the background as Lauren struggled to process the words. For a moment, she couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, as the reality of what she’d just heard began to sink in.

Lauren sat frozen in her chair, the words echoing in her mind as if they were foreign as if they belonged to someone else’s story. Her mother was gone. The shock was like a heavy fog, wrapping around her thoughts, numbing her to everything but the unbearable ache that was starting to grow in her chest.

The phone slipped from her hand, landing softly on the desk as her eyes welled up with tears. She wanted to speak, to say something to her father, but the words wouldn’t come. All she could do was sit there, paralyzed by the weight of the news, tears beginning to spill down her cheeks.

Across the hallway, Jonathan looked up from his desk, immediately noticing the change in her demeanor. His confident, assured expression faltered when he saw the tears streaming down her face. Without hesitation, he excused himself from the client, his concern evident as he quickly crossed the office to her side.

“Laur?” he asked gently, his voice full of worry as he crouched down beside her, his hand resting on her arm.

Through her muffled sobs, she managed to choke out the words, each one feeling like a knife to her heart. “It’s my mom…she’s gone…”

Jonathan’s eyes widened in shock, and without another word, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as she broke down. His embrace was strong, and steady, as if he could absorb some of the pain she was feeling. He stroked her back, murmuring soothing words that she could barely hear over the sound of her own crying.

“I’m so sorry, Laur,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll take care of everything, okay? Don’t worry about a thing.”

She nodded against his shoulder, her tears soaking into his shirt as she clung to him, desperate for some semblance of comfort. It was all too much–the shock, the grief, the overwhelming sense of loss–but having Jonathan there, holding her, made it a little more bearable. He was her rock, the one thing keeping her from falling apart completely.

Jonathan pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes. “Listen, I’m going to find someone to cover my upcoming cases and reschedule any appointments I have. We’ll go back to Arkansas together for the funeral, okay? We’ll stay as long as you need.”

Lauren could only nod, too overwhelmed to speak. The thought of going back home, of facing everything that was waiting for her there, felt like an insurmountable task. But with Jonathan by her side, it didn’t seem quite as impossible.

“Why don’t you take a break in the break room for a bit?” Jonathan suggested softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her tear-streaked face. “I’ll finish up my meeting with the client and then I’ll drive you home. You should take the rest of the day off, just to process everything.”

Lauren hesitated, the idea of being alone with her thoughts terrifying, but she knew he was right. She needed a moment to breathe, to try and make sense of the world that had suddenly turned upside down.

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as she wiped at her tears.

Jonathan gave her a reassuring squeeze before helping her to her feet. “I’ll be right there as soon as I can,” he promised, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made her heart ache a little less.

As Lauren slowly made her way to the break room, she felt like she was moving through a dream, everything around her distant and surreal. The pain was still there, a constant, gnawing ache, but Jonathan’s support gave her something to hold on to, something to keep her grounded as she tried to navigate the storm that had just engulfed her life.

* * * *

Later that evening the penthouse apartment was eerily quiet as Lauren stood in the master bathroom, staring blankly at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were red and swollen from hours of crying, the glossy sheen of unshed tears still clinging to her lashes. She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the dull, persistent ache that seemed to have taken up permanent residence there. And yet, beneath the surface of her overwhelming grief, there was a numbness–a disconnect from the reality that her mother was really gone.

She didn’t know how long she had been standing there, lost in the fog of her thoughts when she heard the front door open. Jonathan’s familiar voice echoed through the apartment, calling out for her.

“Babe?” His tone was gentle, laced with concern, as he walked through the rooms, searching for her. “Laur?”

He called out to her again as he approached the bedroom, his footsteps growing closer. She couldn’t bring herself to respond, the words stuck in her throat, her body frozen in place.

It wasn’t until he finally found her in the bathroom that she felt a sense of grounding like a tether pulling her back to the present. Jonathan stepped into the room, his expression softening with concern as he saw the state she was in. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her back against his chest. His embrace was warm and secure, a stark contrast to the cold emptiness she felt inside.

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple before whispering. “Do you need anything?”

Lauren shook her head slightly, the movement almost imperceptible. She didn’t know what she needed, didn’t know how to make any of this better. All she knew was that the pain was unbearable, and yet she felt strangely detached from it all as if it were happening to someone else.

Jonathan’s arms tightened around her, his presence a solid, comforting weight. After a moment, he gently turned her in his arms so that she was facing him. Her tear-streaked eyes met his, and she found herself focusing on the softness of his gray eyes, the hint of his toned chest peeking out from beneath his slightly unbuttoned designer dress shirt.

Without hesitation, he pulled her into his embrace again, and she laid her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. They stood like that for several minutes, neither of them speaking, just holding on to each other in the quiet of the evening.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jonathan whispered, “You should try to eat something.”

Lauren hesitated, her mind rebelling at the thought of food. She doubted she could keep anything down, the thought of eating making her stomach churn. But Jonathan’s gentle insistence and the concern in his voice made her relent.

“Okay,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, allowing him to lead her out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen.

She sank onto one of the bar stools at the island, folding her hands in her lap as she watched Jonathan move around the kitchen. His movements were calm and methodical, a reassuring contrast to the chaos inside her mind. He rummaged through the fridge and pantry, gathering ingredients with a quiet efficiency that spoke to how well he knew his way around.

For a moment, Lauren was too lost in her own thoughts to notice what he was doing. But as he set the ingredients on the counter–bread, cheese, butter, and a can of tomato soup–recognition slowly dawned on her. She blinked, her tear-blurred vision sharpening as she realized what he was making.

A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, a flicker of warmth cutting through the numbness. Grilled cheese and tomato soup. It was her favorite, her go-to comfort meal, and somehow Jonathan knew that it was exactly what she needed. It was the only thing she could imagine eating on a day like today when everything else felt too overwhelming to face.

Jonathan glanced over at her as he prepared the meal, catching the faint smile on her lips. “I thought you might like this,” he said softly, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “I know it’s your favorite.”

She nodded, her throat too tight with emotion to speak. The simple act of making her favorite meal, of knowing her so well, touched her in a way that words couldn’t express. It was a small thing, but in this moment, it meant everything.

As he worked, the familiar, comforting scent of melting butter and toasting bread filled the kitchen. The warmth of the stovetop and the sound of soup bubbling softly in the pot added to the soothing atmosphere. Lauren watched him, feeling a mixture of gratitude and affection swell in her chest. Jonathan wasn’t just doing this because he felt obliged–he genuinely cared about her, about making sure she was okay, even when she didn’t feel okay at all.

When the meal was ready, Jonathan placed the grilled cheese sandwich and a steaming bowl of tomato soup in front of her. He took a seat next to her at the island, watching her with soft gray eyes that always seemed to see right through her.

“Try to eat a little,” he encouraged gently, his hand resting on her arm in a comforting gesture.

Lauren hesitated, but the warmth of the soup and the familiarity of the meal coaxed her to take a small bite. The taste was like a balm to her frayed nerves, the simple, savory flavors grounding her in a way she desperately needed.

Jonathan didn’t push her to talk, didn’t press her to say anything she wasn’t ready to. He just sat there with her, his presence steady and reassuring, as she slowly at her meal. It was a quiet, tender moment, one that spoke volumes about their relationship without the need for words.

When she had eaten as much as she could manage, she looked over at Jonathan, feeling a surge of gratitude for his quiet strength. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “For everything.”

Jonathan smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to thank me, Laur. I’m here for you, always.”

And in that moment, despite the pain and grief, she felt a glimmer of comfort. Jonathan was there, and she wasn’t alone.

* * * *

The soft buzz of city traffic outside the penthouse seemed to fade as Lauren folded another dress into her suitcase. The open window let in a cool breeze, but it did nothing to ease the weight in her chest. Jonathan lingered in the doorway, watching her. He hadn’t said much since dinner, but she knew he could sense something was off.

"You’ve barely spoken all week," Jonathan finally said, stepping closer, his voice low and careful. “I know this is hard for you.”

Lauren nodded but kept her eyes down, busying herself with her packing. “Yeah… it’s a lot.”

Jonathan’s hand gently settled on her lower back, a comforting gesture that made her stomach twist with guilt. "It's going to be tough, saying goodbye to your mom," he said softly, his thumb brushing in small, reassuring circles. “But I’ll be right there with you.”

Lauren’s breath hitched. She bit her lip, nodding again, but that wasn’t the real reason her stomach churned every time she thought about going back to Arkansas. Her mother’s passing had been hard, but something deeper gnawed at her. The thought of Tyler, the possibility of seeing him after all these years, that’s what she dreaded most.

Jonathan mistook her silence for grief. “You don’t have to go alone. We can get through this together,” he said, squeezing her side gently.

She glanced at him, appreciating the support but feeling the familiar tug of the secret she’d carried for so long. He didn’t know the whole truth—about why she’d stayed away from Arkansas for the past eight years. He thought it was just the distance, the life they’d built in Chicago, her busy schedule. But the truth was, she hadn’t been able to face the past she’d left behind.

Jonathan stepped back, his brow furrowing as if he could sense there was something more. “You know… we’ve been together six years, and I’ve never been to Arkansas with you. Your family’s only visited Chicago a few times, but… you’ve never taken me home. Why is that?”

Lauren’s hands stilled over the suitcase. She knew this question would come eventually, but it didn’t make it any easier. “It’s just…” She paused, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know, it’s complicated. I guess I just… never felt the need to go back.”

Jonathan tilted his head, studying her face. “Is it really that, though? I mean, it’s been eight years, and you’ve avoided going home this whole time. What’s there that you don’t want to face?”

Her heart pounded. This was it. She could tell him everything. She could trust him, couldn’t she? They were engaged. She was marrying him in a few months. And yet, the idea of confessing how much Tyler had lingered in her mind all these years felt… foolish. Stupid, even. It had been so long ago. Why did it still bother her?

Lauren took a breath, her voice shaky when she finally spoke. “I just… it’s hard for me. There are a lot of memories tied to that place.”

Jonathan’s expression softened, but she could see the concern etched in his face. “Memories?” he asked gently. “What kind of memories?”

Lauren looked down, her fingers gripping the edge of the suitcase. “Just… high school stuff. People I haven’t seen in forever. Things I didn’t want to think about.”

Jonathan studied her for a long moment. She could feel his gaze, heavy with curiosity, with questions he wasn’t sure he should ask. “Like an old boyfriend?”

Her heart skipped a beat, but she forced a light laugh. “No, not exactly.”

She wanted to tell him. She could almost feel the words on her tongue. She could tell him about Tyler, about that summer night that changed everything, about how she’d never been able to shake the hurt, no matter how hard she tried. But it seemed so ridiculous now, after all these years. They were adults. She was about to marry Jonathan, the man who had given her a stable, happy life in Chicago. How could she explain that she still cared about the boy who took her virginity?

So, instead, she offered the safest answer she could muster. “It’s just... small-town stuff, you know? Everyone knows everyone, and it’s like nothing ever changes.”

Jonathan looked at her for a moment longer, then nodded, though she could tell he didn’t fully believe her. “Okay,” he said, letting the matter drop for now. “But if there’s something else going on, you can tell me. I’m here, Lauren.”

She managed a small smile, appreciating his understanding even as the weight of her secret remained lodged in her chest. “I know. Thank you.”

Jonathan kissed her forehead, lingering for a second longer than usual. He stepped back, watching her as she resumed her packing, but the tension in the air hadn’t faded. Lauren folded another shirt, her mind already back in Arkansas, where the past she’d buried was about to surface again.

* * * *

The low hum of the sports car echoed around them as they sped down the highway, the sprawling fields and farmlands blurring into the distance. Jonathan’s hand rested on Lauren’s thigh, a steady presence, but her mind was miles away, lost somewhere between the past and the hometown she hadn’t visited in years.

Jonathan glanced over, sensing the weight of her silence. His fingers tightened slightly on her leg before he spoke, his voice cutting through the soft music filling the car. “Lauren, what is it about Arkansas? You’ve been quiet ever since we left. And it’s not just your mom.”

Lauren’s heart skipped a beat. She shifted her gaze out the window, watching the flat, open fields fly by, but she said nothing.

“You never talk about it,” Jonathan continued, pressing just enough to make her uncomfortable. “I mean, I’ve met your family because they’ve come to Chicago, but you’ve never taken me back there. Not once. I know your mom’s passing is hard, but this feels like… more.”

She swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the edge of her seat. He wasn’t wrong. It was more, but how could she explain it to him?

“I know there’s something,” Jonathan added, his voice softer now, but more insistent. “And if there’s something you’re going to have to face when we get there… I should know about it. Don’t you think?”

Lauren’s chest tightened. He wasn’t wrong. She knew he deserved the truth, especially now, with the wedding only a few months away. But how could she explain Tyler? How could she tell Jonathan that she had avoided her hometown not just because of her family, but because of a boy who had once held her heart?

“It’s not what you think,” she said, her voice barely audible.

“Then what is it?” Jonathan asked, glancing at her with concern. “If it’s something from your past, we can deal with it together. But I can’t help you if you keep shutting me out.”

Lauren exhaled, the weight of his words settling in her chest. She knew he was right. He’d always been steady, supportive. He deserved more than this vague half-truth she kept offering him. But could she really tell him? Could she admit that she had never come back because of the boy who had shattered her heart all those years ago?

“It’s stupid,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just... things I’ve tried to forget.”

Jonathan’s hand squeezed her thigh again, a comforting gesture. “Things you’ve tried to forget, but haven’t,” he said gently. “If it’s going to come up while we’re there, I need to know, Lauren.”

Lauren felt a lump form in her throat. She glanced at him, meeting his eyes for the first time since they’d left the city. She wanted to tell him, to open up about the weight she’d been carrying for eight long years. But the words caught in her throat, the memories too raw.

“I’ll handle it,” she finally said, her voice quiet but firm. “I promise.”

Jonathan sighed, his hand slipping from her thigh and returning to the steering wheel. He didn’t push her further, but she could sense his frustration in the silence that followed.

The rest of the drive passed with only the sound of Jonathan’s Spotify playlist filling the air, the space between them growing heavier with each passing mile. As they neared her small hometown, the knot in Lauren’s stomach tightened, her past creeping closer with every rotation of the wheels.

* * * *

Jonathan turned the car onto the long gravel driveway, the tires crunching over the stones as they made their way toward the old white farmhouse. Lauren sat quietly in the passenger seat, her eyes focused on the familiar landscape that was slowly coming into view. The house looked exactly as she remembered it, its paint slightly more weathered, the garden a little less tended, but still the same place that held so many memories of her childhood.

As they approached, Lauren noticed movement on the front porch. Her father, Mike, stepped out of the house, followed closely by her younger sister, Madison. Seeing them standing there, waiting for her, brought a lump to her throat. This was the moment she had been both dreading and needing–reconnecting with her family in the wake of their shared loss.

Jonathan parked the SUV and turned off the engine. The sudden quiet that followed seemed to make the moment even more poignant. Lauren glanced over at him, and he gave her a reassuring nod, his eyes filled with understanding. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped out, the familiar scent of pine and fresh earth hitting her as she stood up.

Madison reached her first. Without a word, her sister wrapped her arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. Lauren closed her eyes and held on, feeling the shared grief between them. They had always been close, even from states away. And at this moment, that bond felt stronger than ever.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Madison whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

“Me too,” Lauren managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. 

They stayed like that for a few moments, neither one wanting to let go. It was as if the hug was the only thing holding them together, keeping the overwhelming sadness at bay.

When they finally pulled apart, Lauren turned to her father. Mike stood a few feet away, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his worn jeans. He gave her a small, forced smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes, before stepping forward to hug her. His embrace was firm, yet Lauren could feel the slight tremor in his hands as he held her.

“Hey, Dad,” she said softly, her voice cracking under the weight of the moment.

“Hey, kiddo,” he replied, his voice gruff. 

When they finally broke the hug, Lauren noticed him quickly brush a tear from his cheek, as if trying to hide the emotion. Seeing her father, the man who had always been her rock, show this moment of vulnerability made her heart ache even more.

She couldn’t ever remember seeing her dad cry growing up. He had always been the strong one, the one who held the family together through every challenge. But now, in this moment of shared grief, that strength seemed fragile, and it hurt to see him this way.

Lauren took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she turned back to the car. Jonathan had stepped out and was standing by the passenger side door, giving them space but still close enough to be there for her. She motioned to him to come closer, and he did, walking up with that calm, steady demeanor that she had come to rely on.

Jonathan stepped forward, extending his hand to Mike first. “Mr. Allen, it’s nice to see you again. Just wish it was under better circumstances,” he said, his voice polite and warm.

Mike shook his hand, giving him a firm nod. “Call me Mike,” he replied, though there was still a hint of formality in his tone. “Thank you for coming with Lauren. It means a lot to us.”

“Of course,” Jonathan said earnestly. “I’m glad I could be here for her–and for all of you.”

Jonathan then turned to Madison, who gave him a small smile as she shook his hand. 

“Hi, Jonathan,” she said, her voice softer, still tinged with the emotion of the moment.

Lauren watched as Jonathan interacted with her family, feeling a mix of emotions. On one hand, she was relieved that they were seeing him again and that Jonathan was doing his best to make a good impression just as he had the handful of times they had met him before. On the other hand, the whole situation felt surreal–bringing Jonathan into this part of her life under such painful circumstances.

As they stood there, the four of them together, Lauren couldn’t shake the feeling of how much had changed, and yet how some things remained the same. The farm, her family, this place–it was all still here, still waiting for her. But now, there was a void her mother had been, a gap that no amount of time or distance could ever fill.

As Lauren stepped through the front door, a wave of nostalgia washed over her, hitting her like a warm, familiar breeze. The house smelled the same–a mix of old wood, lavender, and something distinctly homey that she couldn’t quite place. It was as if time had stood still inside these walls, preserving everything exactly as she had left it.

The living room was the first thing she saw. The same floral wallpaper covered the walls, a pattern that had been there for as long as she could remember. It felt both comforting and jarring, like stepping into a memory. Her eyes were drawn to the couch, where a cross-stitch pillow that read “Home Sweet Home” was propped up against the armrest. The pillow hadn’t moved an inch, its embroidered letters still bright and cheerful, untouched by time or change.

Jonathan followed closely behind her, his presence grounding her in the moment. She turned to glance at him, and he gave her a small, encouraging smile. His eyes swept over the room, taking in the details of her childhood home with a quiet appreciation.

As they moved further into the house, Lauren found herself walking toward the dining room, her steps slow and deliberate. The long wooden table stood in the center of the room, just as it always had, surrounded by the same mismatched chairs that had been there for years. She could almost hear the echoes of family dinners, the sound of her mother’s laughter, the clinking of silverware against plates.

But now, the room was silent, filled only with the weight of what was missing.

From the dining room, they moved into the kitchen. The sight of the familiar space pulled at her heartstrings. The same stack of magazines sat neatly on the counter by the sink, just as it had when she was a teenager. It was as if nothing had changed, yet everything felt different. The kitchen, once the bustling heart of the home, now felt like a museum–preserved, but no longer alive.

Lauren paused by the counter, running her fingers lightly over the worn edges of the magazines. She remembered how her mother would sit here, flipping through them while waiting for the kettle to boil, or waiting for cookies to cool on a rainy afternoon. The memories were vivid, yet they felt distant like they belonged to someone else.

Jonathan stood beside her, quietly observing the space. “It’s cozy,” he remarked softly, his voice breaking the silence.

Lauren nodded, though she wasn’t sure if she agreed. This house, with all its memories, no longer felt like home. It was a strange realization–that something so familiar could feel so foreign.

They continued through the house, making their way upstairs. The creak of the wooden steps under their feet was another reminder of all the years that had passed since she last walked this path. When they reached the top of the stairs, Lauren hesitated for a moment before pushing open the door to her childhood bedroom.

As soon as the door swung open, she was hit with a powerful wave of nostalgia. The room was exactly as she had left it–the same pale blue walls, the same posters of bands and movies she had loved as a teenager still plastered on the walls. Her old bed, with its quilted blanket, sat in the corner, untouched by time.

She stepped inside, feeling like she had just stepped back in time. Everything was frozen in place, a snapshot of her teenage years. Her heart ached with the bittersweetness of it all.

Jonathan followed her into the room, his eyes scanning the walls. He walked over to one of the posters, a faded image of a UK boy Band from the early 2010s. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he turned to her.

“So, this is who had your heart before me, huh?” he teased lightly, pointing at the poster.

Despite herself, Lauren felt a small smile tugging at her lips. “What can I say? The Irish one was cute,” she replied a hint of laughter in her voice.

Jonathan chuckled softly, his eyes warm and affectionate. “I can see why. He had great hair.”

His lightheartedness was exactly what she needed at that moment. The heaviness that had settled in her chest seemed to lift just a little, replaced by the warmth of his presence. She stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist as she leaned into him, seeking comfort in his embrace.

Jonathan held her close, resting his chin on the top of her head. “You’re going to be okay,” he whispered, his voice gentle and reassuring. “I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

Lauren closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her. For a moment, she allowed herself to just be–held in the safety of his arms, in the room where she had once dreamed of her future. Now, with so much uncertainty ahead, she clung to the comfort of the present, and to the man who was here with her, offering his unwavering support.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She wasn’t sure if she was thanking him for the moment, for being there, or for simply loving her through the pain. But it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was here, and in this moment, that was enough.

[elegantauthor]

Saving Grace Chapter 21

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Aurora Stark

Summary: The hour grows late, and Bucky tries not to spiral.

Warnings: mentions of memory loss and being brainwashed

Series Masterlist

Bucky’s memories were like shards of a mirror; he would try to put them in their proper place, only for them to jut out in all the wrong directions. There was always another memory, or no memory at all—an empty fragment in the void of his brain. How could he ever be whole again without all the pieces?

He grappled with memory loss every day, ever since Wakanda. Shuri removed the code words, but they couldn’t give him back the seventy plus years under HYDRA control. No one could. Aurora’s attempts to revive the man he once was were well-meaning, but she was a bit too idealistic at times.

He couldn’t blame her; she was a young woman, prone to flights of fancy. Hell, when he was her age, he dreamt of being a scientist. World War II started, and he enlisted in the Army. The life he’d dreamt of shredded, along with his memory, every time he was put in the chair and his mind wiped. Every murder was a blemish on his soul. He was a broken man, tattered and tainted.

How could anyone love him? He was not the youthful man he’d been in the Forties. He was not the soldier off to fight someone else’s war in another country. He also wasn’t what HYDRA made him. At the same time, he was an amalgamation of it all.

He oft wondered if he could remember, would he want to? Would the happier times trigger more grief? These were the questions that kept him up at night. The ruminations of a wanderer in a cavernous expanse of darkness staring back at him when he closed his eyes.

Now, as the hours ticked by and every second counted, that expanse increased tenfold. Nagged at his conscience until he willingly opened the floodgate. It wasn’t a pleasant memory, but it reminded him why he was doing this in the first place. Because, as demons do, the temptation to leave Aurora with Baron Helmut Zemo had crossed the barren wasteland of his mind at least once during the near forty hours he’d spent searching for her.

Zemo, with all his finery, would make for a suitable partner. He could give her everything her heart desired; a private jet, lavish homes across Europe. She was a Stark. A demigoddess. What in God’s good name was she doing with a man like him?

~ * ~

Six years ago

“Goddammit, Aurora!”

The woman before him jolted, and immediately, he saw the tension in her shoulders. He didn’t have it in him to feel remorse. He stared at her with a hardened expression, working his jaw as he premediated a response to yet another of her sassy remarks.

When no such retort came, Bucky dragged his hand down his face and sighed. “I’m not— I’m not the man you want me to be. I’m sorry I can’t be him.”

Instead of extinguishing her fire, which he partly expected, Aurora smiled softly up at him. “Bucky, I don’t want you to be anyone but yourself. I know I can come off as willful and naïve…”

“You don’t say?” A small smirk tugged the corners of his mouth.

“Yes, I’m an idealist, but you have to understand… My dad is a genius, the innovator of our time. Kind of impossible not to absorb some of that idealism. But,” she stated with emphasis, “I’m not trying to push my beliefs on you. Do I think it’s cool that you’re from the Forties? Yes, I do. The best of both worlds. Innovation with good, old-fashioned values.”

“You certainly have a knack for blending opposing philosophies. Get that from your ma?”

Aurora laughed. “Maybe… I mean, she’s been around for eons.”

Suddenly, realization dawned on him, and his eyes softened. “I think I understand. You see a little of you in me, don’t you?”

Humming, she walked around the hut. Bucky knew her well enough to know when she did that, she was thinking. Tony did that, too, Steve informed him. “You’re a man plucked out of time, I’m a woman who will see just as many decades or more pass before my own time ends. I think too much about the concepts of infinity, eternity, forever, but I can’t quantify them, and that scares me.”

“Ah, so I’m a science experiment,” he said, grinning.

Matching his grin, Aurora shook her head. “You’re impossible. I’m impossible. Steve is impossible. Yet, here we are. Beings of myth and legend.”

“Legacy…”

“Yes,” she snapped her fingers and pointed, “legacy. The demigoddess and the Winter Soldier.”

“Sounds like a bad porno.”

“Bucky!” she giggled.

He crossed the room in two strides, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close. “I don’t wanna lose you… I don’t wanna keep pushing you away… Can you accept that I may never recover from some things? Can you accept me for who I am?”

“Of course,” Aurora murmured in earnest. “I’m sorry for overstepping. I never meant to hurt you.”

He shuddered a breath, nodding. “I wanna see what you see in me…”

He closed his eyes, as she cupped her palm around his face. “I know I get carried away with potentiality, the future, but… I see you, Bucky. I love you. Just the way you are.”

Opening his eyes again, he stared down deeply into hers and getting lost in the golden pools of light. “You’re a lot like him, you know.”

“Who?”

“Your grandfather. He was a man ahead of his time. The night before my unit shipped out, I was at Stark Expo.”

“I suppose some things truly are meant to be.”

Bucky nodded, the lyrics of Elvis’ song cementing the moment.

[winterspiderpurrs]

Part 1:

Part 2:

Once Bucky left the bathroom to head to the kitchen where Steve should be wrapping up in making the sandwiches, he promised, Peter sighed. He should have known that these two were courting him and him practically accepting it when he allowed them to create a safe place for him in their home.

Peter looked at his reflection in the mirror, lightly touching the patch that covered up his scent glands on his neck. Did he want this? He really liked Steve and Bucky. And when he thought about it... after a long day, he wanted to be home, and his first thoughts were of Steve and Bucky and cuddling on the couch.

Nodding to himself before he peeled off the patch, making a face as it stung. He will hop back in the shower right quickly to scrub off the glue from the patch. And of course, the little bit of slick that dribbled when Bucky got up close.

Steve just finished putting another grilled cheese on a plate when he heard the shower go off again. Frowning he turns to look at the entryway of the hall to see Bucky waltz out with a little smirk on his face. Putting his hand on his hip " What did you do Buck?"

Bucky held his hand up in surrender " Why do you think I did something Punk? I was just helping our 'mega out and getting him some clothes "

Steve eyed Bucky before turning around to start making another sandwhich. " I just want to make sure.... that everything is fine."

Bucky's expression softens a little before he he slides up next to Steve and wraps his arms around his waist, kissing his shoulder. " I would never jeopardize what we got going on. You're too important, and so is he. Everything is going as smooth as it can. At a snail pace, but beggers can't be choosers."

Steve snorts a little he was about to give a sassy response before his nose twitched. He frowns before subtlety sniffs the air and he turn to look at the hallway entryway. He could hear the faint steps of Peter heading this way. He normally can't smell Peter, with the scent blocking patch, and the advanced spider suit he normally gives off a beta smell.

" Your burning the bread Stevie"

" Shit!"

Bucky laughs as Steve panics to turn the stove off and quickly move the sandwich to the trash.

" Language Steve!" Peter laughs as he comes into the kitchen. Wearing Steve's shirt that Bucky got for him to wear and a pair of leggings that Bucky kept for him since he couldn't fit into their pants. He still laughs at the memory of Bucky running into the door frame when he came out and the pants fell after one step and he bent down to pull them back up.

Peter fidgeting a little with his hands before moving his way over to the kitchen island and sitting on a stool. " So.. uuhh... anything new? Any cool missions lately? If you can tell me not that you HAVE to tell me...umm yeah?"

Bucky smirks at Peter before pushing the plate of grilled cheese over to him. " That's more of Steve, I'm enjoying my downtime. Eat up." Steve clears his throat and nods " It's been steady. Not overly busy but not...not busy to where its worrisome."

They pass time chit chatting as Peter eats his sandwiches and then they move to sit on the couch. Peter in the middle of the two Alphas, a black and white crime movie was playing as the chatted quietly til Peter started to dose off.

" Come on sweetheart, lets get you to bed" Steve picks up Peter and carries him to the guestroom aka Peter's room. Bucky stating he is gonna clean up the kitchen then head their way. Wanting to give Steve some time with him one on one.

Once they get to the door, Steve shifts Peter in his arms.

" Want me to set you down here or... uh tuck you in?" Steve feels nervous. He shouldn't cause its not like this is the first time that Peter has to be carried to bed, but it was the first time he has been here without his scent patch. His scent smelled divine to Steve, and he honestly didn't want to set the omega down.

Peter rubs his eyes and yawns before glancing at the door and then back up at Steve. He thinks back to his conversation with Bucky, biting his lip before nodding.

" Umm c..could you take me to bed? I mean! Uhh tuck me in? " Peter blushes brightly, and even the tips of Steve's ears go red too. But he was able to play if off. " Course hun"

Once in the room, Steve was able to move Peter just slightly to be able to pull the sheets down on the bed without disturbing the lamb stuffie that was sitting on the pillows. They took Peter to the local church festival that Steve sometimes attends and won it for him. Technically Peter had two of them, one he keeps at home and one here. Steve and Bucky both competing to win the prize.

Peter once he was laid down he stared up at Steve before reaching his hand out to hold onto Steve's. " Yeah hun?" smiling shyly " um.. could..would.. uh... Bucky said that it was okay that..umm Its okay to ask... If you could stay? I mean... yeah. I want you and Bucky to stay here. Like... in bed...not like...uh sex geesh. I mean. Cuddle?"

Bucky chuckled from his spot at the door, both Peter and Steve turning to look at him.

" Yeah Doll. We can cuddle up in your nest... but Steve needs to hear that its more then a one off..."

Steve opened his mouth to argue back " It's whatever you want Peter. No pressure or entitlement needed. I am fine if all you want is the presence of an Alpha. "

Peter shook his head. " No no! I'm not explaining this well...I would like to see you... and I've been... really dense but I would like to try.. but basicly its like we have already been courting? Just uuhh without realizing. Umm..I really like you... and Bucky. And..I want both of you as my Alphas...so... Stay with me? "

[darke15]

Hello, Rhymieeeee!!! @rhymingtree

So sorry i took so long to reblog this, I remember reading it when you reacted and for some reason, I completely forgot to respond 😬

I'm so sorry this took so long 😭😭 but I've decided to procrastinate on all my other responsibilities and now here I am 🙃

Don’t be because I’ve apparently been sitting on this react for a month 😑

Ollie flashbacks are starting to drive me insane. Can't spend too long in a psychopath's brain without being driven into insanity yourself

Fr fr he’s driving me nuts too 

Also I have so many snacks rn so I'm wondering if I'll be crying with a mouthful of sandwich later on in the course of the chapter

Of course you will 😂

How Gonzalez saw everything before it happened and planned for it; he could only be blindsided if (F/N) was in harm’s way. How (F/N) would jump into a fight without a second thought and she wasn’t used to losing.

He could literally be blindsided so easily if you plan it right

And that’s exactly what happened 😈

The fact that Daniel Gonzalez is a fictional man hurts me to my core every day.

Same though 

“Your mission?” “Исправляем свою ошибку.”

I know the Soldier was probably told to say that, but I can hear Bucky's signature sass. Like him saying 'you fucked up and now I have to clean up your messes. You are so fucking annoying. Redheaded asshole.'

Novak gives the Soldier special permission to be sassy when he’s dealing with Oliver Walsh

Zac and Belov were practically slumped over a pair of computers that looked as though they were at least two decades old.

They're working on their Excel spreadsheets

I can hear the dial up internet noise 😂

Shadows danced in your peripheral, their ghostly voices whispered in your ear. They begged and pleaded and screamed for mercy. Their faces stretched into horrified cries. Their bodies marred and mangled by fire and riddled with oozing bullet wounds.

How the hell can anyone find their way back to being sane after all this…

They don’t. That’s the issue 😀

“You slept for over eighteen hours,” he said, pulling back with a low scoff, “How the hell did you manage to wake up cranky?” “I’m talented.”

Me to myself after one week of classes.

Fr fr 

But no honestly how am I so drained after just ONE week back it makes no sense

School suckssssssss 

How is she springing into work mode so quickly SHE ALMOST DIED FUCKIN' TAKE A BREAK

She doesn’t have timeeeeeeeee

GIRL DONT YOU REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED TO HAMILTON WHEN HE DIDNT TAKE A BREAK

INFIDELITYYY

YOU DON'T SAY NO

Ohhhhhhhh 😈 interesting

well

she already didn't say no to Novak…

👀👀👀 that do be true. She cheatin’ on aftermath?

Ghost is genuinely insane. You know how I know?

She refused to take the nap offer

what kind of person says no to a nap??? In this economy??? Take the damn nap

Fr fr 😂

— “Danny?” you cried, your lungs closing in on themselves as you struggled to breathe, “Mi amor? I’m scared. Stay with me, please?” —

Darke I'm gonna fuckin kill you

Try it. See what happens 😀

WHY DO I ALWAYS FALL INTO THESE WITHOUT ANTICIPATING THE FUCKING FLASHBACKS

Idk you should know better by now 

— He smiled softly, pulling you against him and resting his chin on your head, “I love you.” —

DARKE

WHAT 

Had he misread Walsh from the beginning? Had they been marked for death from the moment he walked aboard their plane?

So many what-ifs of what their lives would be had it not been for Walsh

Ughhhhh got me thinking about more different universes and what everything would have turned out [weston bad guy arc? 👀]

What if there were more of him? What if more Hydra agents were littered among Aftermath’s ranks?

And background checks would be practically useless, because if Walsh had fooled them, anyone could

They’d all look like regular ppl. And the thing is, you wouldn’t be able to tell. If they’re a good Hydra agent [like Alexei and Melina’s family was in BW] you’d never be able to track them back to the source 

Also I don't think reading about people with these kinds of stress levels are helping me with my stress levels

Probably not 😀

“I’ve seen her worse. I’ve seen her better.”

That is now code for: she literally almost died but is still refusing to take naps like a petulant toddler.

We all know that Ghost becomes a child when she’s sleep deprived and hungry 

I keep forgetting that Wraith's reveal was still so recent timeline wise... god reading all this all over again is gonna hurt once it's all completed

Timeline wise, the shit they’ve been through is absolutely wild

Which reminds me I've been thinking about it and I genuinely thought this fic would be finished by the time I graduated my senior year of high school

Ha! It was supposed to be done ages ago…idk if i’m gonna see the end of it 😂

“Damn you,” he chuckled, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into his lap. Imara set her chin atop his head, holding him close as the smile on his face fell.

I need fanart of this. I will pay with my internal organs to be able to put this image on my wall as a poster.

Yessssssssss 

OOOOH A CONTAINMENT UNIT

😈😈😈

Cut to Peter a few years after this, wreaking havoc in fucking LONDON with Mysterio HAHSHAHA

Gonna give poor jack a heart attack as he gets older

….also got me thinking about nwh and peter and jack’s relationship

Reading this is doing serious damage to my life expectance. This amount of tension is taking a decade off me at most

Pffffft you’re fine

JACK WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING

JACK BENNET-DUGAN WHAT ARE YOU DOING

😀😀😀

“Have we met before?” the man asked, his head cocking to the side. “Yeah,” Jack growled, “I enjoyed breaking your face in Medellín.” Wraith paused, seemingly taken aback for a moment before Jack’s words sunk in. “Copycat,” he hummed, “Come to finish the job?” “With pleasure.”

See I knwo this is supposed to be thrilling

but mostly my heart is just lurching out of my ribcage

😂😂😂

“You shoulda kept the mask. I can see fear in your eyes. Panic,” Wraith paused with a chuckle, the sound twisted and wicked, “I like it.”

Oh wow... didn't know he was into that sorta thing but I guess it isn't surprising 😏

He’s into the most random things i think

I'm about to throw a tearsoaked sandwich to the wall in a fit of unbridled rage

Don’t do that. The sandwich doesn’t deserve it

Maybe it was Danny’s guiding hand making sure they were safe.

Now I'm genuinely curious about these guys' spirituality

The only confirmed person with a belief system is Boone who's pagan. As far as I know Ghost and most of Alpha One and Two are agnostic atheists, but with that I feel like she still has a spiritual belief system that centers mostly on Danny's everlasting presence in her life

Ari was, at one point, Jewish but I think after what happens between him and his dad he doesn’t practice anymore. Idk where anyone else really sits

You were going to have to send Ollie a message.

Cool what's his email address

Or would you rather go for Jack the Ripper-esque letters written in blood with someone's severed ear in the envelope?

What do you think the near-death, crazed soldier is gonna pick?

MELINA AND NATASHAAAA MY TWO BEST GIRLS

yessssssssss

“So, Walsh knows you’re moving them for him?” This stopped Melina in her tracks. She frowned, glancing up at her in confusion, “Who?” “Walsh,” she repeated herself, watching as the woman’s face never changed, “Ghost.”

SO VERY WELL

😀😀😀

“You? Pft. No. He is the stupid archer and you’re my sister. You’re the coolest.”

nice save babes.

Fr fr 

OH MY WHAT

THE WAY I ALMOST BOUNCED OFF THE FUCKING WALL

GOD IT MUST BE SO FUCKING TENSE HOW SCARED HE MUST BE

I dunno how he didn’t shit his pants on sight

Ghostie's probably lying through her teeth

See, she’s just so good at it that it comes naturally. 

I love how May didn't question the almost ghoulish looking woman coming to talk about the ✨internship✨

I meannnnnnn in nwh she did stick up for the villains and idk if i could let a crazed and homeless willem dafoe into my house. 

Well it's high time I scream at someone to put the pieces together again. This'll be fun.

😈😈😈

I love it when all of Alpha Two gangs up on ghost and starts scolding her like she's a child and they knew she broke something in the living room

And she’s like a cat like 🤷🏼‍♀️

With so much shit going on in the East Coast with Wraith and Ghost and all that, I find myself almost grateful to be so far away from the US

Lol, everything always happens on the coasts

“Funny,” he said with a deadpan, “We don’t usually leave fingerprints.”

No you just leave a fuck ton of collateral damage, which is leagues away from little smudgy fingerprints, you fuckin' psychopath

😂😂😂

Peter is the highlight of the chapter, of course. He almost always is. I'm so curious how the homecoming fight will play out.. and how his relationship with Ghost and Jack will go in the next movies of his storyline. The banter is fun. The angst hurts. I'm all in for it.

Seeeeeeee idk if i wanna finish the homecoming arc, if anything i wanna go back and change a few things but…we’ll see 

CHAPTER 97: GENESIS OF A FIRESTORM

To all my live reactors,

Please, please, please, hide your reactions under a Read More cut. I don’t want any spoilers floating around. 

&

To all my Anonymous Avengers, 

If you want to react in my asks, feel free. However, I won’t be answering any of them until at least Wednesday if they contain spoilers. 

Thank you,

Darke

┍━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━┑

Every other memory had come so clearly. When he pulled the trigger in Odessa and Inessa. When he trained soldiers and Widows in Siberia.

He could remember the cold in the chamber. The frost bursting and burning through his veins in the darkness.

But there was also heat.

Heat and sand and sun.

It was numbed heat and a blurred face and whispers of a voice that cracked and rasped.

He knew her once.

She knew him too.

They’d made him forget her.

It was too dangerous to remember.

So they made him forget.

They erased her.

But he’d be damned if he didn’t find her again.

┕━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━┙

CHAPTER 97: GENESIS OF A FIRESTORM

✪ Bᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ Sᴄᴀʀʀᴇᴅ : Aғᴛᴇʀᴍᴀᴛʜ

♜♠ Tʜᴇ Sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ & Tʜᴇ Sᴘʏ

⧗ Tʜᴇ Rᴇᴅ Rᴏᴏᴍ

☞ Bᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ Sᴄᴀʀʀᴇᴅ: Oʀɪɢɪɴs

»Jᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇ sɪᴅᴇ Tᴀɢʟɪsᴛ

TAGLIST BELOW

@thexbookxnerdx // @fadingbakeryfarmoperator // @rhymingtree // @itsmeatballworld // @kippykasey // @turtleedovee // @onewithnomightypowers // @pixviee // @riahmcq // @thequeenofthefallen // @jesuswasnotawhiteman // @fnnshelbys // @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul // @banbananas // @oikawasblueearbud // @itsarussian // @mrsbarnesinmyimagination // @oopsiedoopsie23 // @luhuhzy // @heyimjustlaura12 // @moonlightreader649 // @sighmurderbot // @useless-creature-213 // @xiyouchan // @bookfeen // @afraidofshrimp // @yjck121 // @born-a-sinner-die-a-martyr // @comfortzonequeen // @aftermatharchives

[rassvetsky]

i was wondering if u can come up with ‘a trust issue who needs reassurance all the time’ reader and ‘i dont know how to communicate my feelings’ bucky. basically a miscommunication trope.

i will accept however storyline and ending you make because i love you and i love ur writing💕❤️❤️

hi babe!! i really really hope i did your wonderful request at least some justice because i got too carried away-- i hope you like it! thank you for existing ♡

Out Of Mind

bucky barnes x reader

"Falling in love with you terrified Bucky, enough to push you away. He was sure that it's better this way. But merely a week later, when you disappear without a trace, Bucky realized that he couldn't handle being without you."

[5.2k] | angst with a happy ending, miscommunication, arguing, bucky being an asshole at first but he has his reasons, natasha being protective, sassy tony, canon level violence, fighting, reader getting minor injuries, clint is the loml, bucky is an idiot in love my dudes, they're so cute god help me

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread.

Bucky used to be a simple man, Steve had told you long ago. After all those years of torture, he developed… Complexity.

And you couldn't agree more.

He was a tender lover to begin with, the one to always make sure that you were alright, the one to put your wellbeing above his. He wasn't good with words- wasn't the most expressive man out there, but you understood him. You understood why he never included cards in the flowers he sent to you, or sometimes didn't say anything back to your love declarations other than a bashful smile; you understood that for him, these things worked in different ways now.

And that's why he loved you so much. That's why he was terrified.

Because the deeper he fell for you, the more intense his feelings got. The harder his separation anxiety hit, the more mushed his brain became.

And in any other scenario, that would be lovely. Those butterflies that one would feel in their stomach, or the sweet little dumbification that came hand to hand with love. In another life, he'd bask in the feeling. He'd see the world around him under a different light, a light that you cast on his life.

But in this life? It was nothing but dangerous. Nothing but absolutely horrendous.

Because he was supposed to focus. He was supposed to be alert. His fight or flight response had to be on at all times and no matter what, he was supposed to prioritize his life to save the others.

He couldn't do that when you were involved, not anymore. The paranoia got too much- he was terrified of seeing you get hurt, of losing you in any way. That fear brought out the worst in him, causing fights to break out whenever you willingly got yourself in trouble, distracting him, making you drift apart further.

You didn't want that. He didn't want that. But life for you wasn't always just movie nights at the compound, breakfasts on bed, long nights of talking about the future.

He had to let the chips fall where they may.

You needed reassurance, he knew that. But suddenly, after the last mission you went on with the team including Bucky, he suddenly… Stopped doing that. That bashful grin was nowhere to be seen when you told him you loved him, when you held his hand it just didn't last as long as it usually did, he… He didn't even look at you properly. And that went on for days, each day worse than the one before, until he barely even talked to you.

And the dread you felt on your chest was unbearable.

The night-time fell quicker than any other day that one evening, as you prepared yourself a warm tea to accompany your book. Carrying the mug up to your shared room with Bucky, you slowly got under the sheets, holding the book open with one hand, mug with the other.

The plot was barely interesting to you with all the thoughts running through your mind, snatching your attention from the words, making you have to go back and reread the same paragraphs over and over. It wasn't anything new, this type of distraction, but more often than not, it was the aftermath of the latest mission plaguing your mind. Not your boyfriend being excessively restrained towards you, as if your sole existence was a problem for him.

Speaking of, maybe it was. Maybe you were too high-maintenance for him, maybe you weren't giving him enough space, maybe he was just going through something. Or maybe, he was done with you. He didn't need you anymore, now that he got rid of the vivid nightmares and dissociations-

How cruel of you to think that. How cruel of him to leave that open as a possibility.

With your tea half-drank, you set the mug back on the nightstand, pinning the bookmark between the pages before leaving it by the mug. You didn't feel like laying down- didn't think you could fall asleep with your mind on overdrive like this anyway. Getting up from where you were laid across, you slowly made your way over to the window, arms crossed on your chest as you heaved a sigh. The view was nice, moonlight illuminated enough of the surrounding trees, and if you were to squint, you could see the grass shine wetly, with a layer of dew upon them.

You couldn't help the way your shoulders tensed a bit when the door knob twisted open, hearing the heavy steps of your lover and a sigh leaving his lips. Your back was facing him still, and you didn't dare to look at him, figuring he was busy changing his clothes judging by the shuffling sound of fabric.

The slight squeak of the mattress brought a bitter grin to your lips as you spoke up. "Not even gonna talk to me?"

He was quiet for a full minute. "Sorry. I'm tired, sweetheart."

"Of me?"

"What?" he sounded surprised. "Wha- why would I be tired of you?"

"I don't know." you sighed. "You've been acting incredibly distant for the past week. Figured I was tiring you out."

Another squeak, he was on his feet now. Slowly walking towards you, he rested a hand on the small of your back, but you still didn't look at him. You wouldn't admit that to yourself but you really didn't want to know the truth.

"Don't be ridiculous," he spoke, tone quiet. "It's just that… The missions, you know how they-"

"We went through rougher missions back then," you chuckled. "On the verge of death, covered in blood. Missions that went on for months. You didn't treat me like this then."

"How am I treating you?"

"Like I'm a fucking nuisance!" you finally snapped, pushing his hand away from your body before turning towards him. Your eyes were wide with anger, chest heaving. "You're treating me like you don't even want to see me!"

"You're my girlfriend!" he was bewildered, albeit a bit guilty. "Of course I want to see you, what the fuck are you even talking about?!"

A scoff left your lips. "Fuck that! You used to treat me better when we were barely friends," you watched him look away, annoyed. "I've been trying to give you some space but you- you just won't tell me shit! You're barely talking to me, anyway! How the hell am I supposed to know what I did wrong if you won't even talk to me, Bucky?!"

Bucky felt his heart getting heavier. "Stop assuming that you did something wrong-"

"Then what else?! What else can I assume? For fuck's sake, am I supposed to assume that there's someone else, or you're just- you're just sick of me. That you don't need me anymore, is that what I'm supposed to think?" you could feel the tears building up by your waterline. "Fucking hell, it'd hurt way less if I was sure that it's all my fault! Or- even if you were- I just- just tell me what the fuck is wrong with you, please?"

"Nothing!" he was loud, suddenly. The sudden outburst had you taking a step back in instinct, and he panicked so hard for a moment that he almost took a step towards you.

He knew he shouldn't.

"Nothing, okay? Just one of those weeks. Leave it alone."

"Fine." you sighed. "Fine, I'll leave it alone. I'll leave you alone, Bucky, to figure your shit out and- please, for the love of God, don't talk to me until you do. I'm done being treated like garbage." and with a final shove to his chest, you walked out of the door.

Bucky knew that he deserved that.

Hell, he deserved a solid punch for the way he was treating you but he didn't know how else to act. He didn't know what else to do. He was so sick of worrying, being in a constant state of paranoia because of you, so sick of his heart hurting like someone reached right into his chest and severed it off whenever you got hurt.

Was he protecting himself, or you?

"Hey," Sam swiftly sat by Bucky's side with a bowl of cereal on his palms, not giving the other a chance to walk away before speaking up again. "You good? You look like… Hell, I can't sugarcoat this. You look like absolute shit."

Bucky felt like absolute shit.

"I'm fine." he muttered, eyes trained on the big TV screen in front of them. The compound had been pretty quiet for the past few weeks, with the main troublemakers scattered around the globe for a mission.

Sam saw right through his bullshit, though. "Your girl ain't talking to you?"

"None of your business."

"She looks like absolute shit too."

Bucky took a moment to process that.

"Did you guys fight?"

"Again, none of your business, Sam." heaving a sigh, Bucky slowly pushed himself up to his feet, leaving Sam sitting on the couch all alone. Natasha, who was busy making herself something to eat to get through lunch, decided to chime in after Bucky managed to take a few steps away.

"You push her away the second things get hard and then wonder why she hates you."

If looks could kill, Bucky's would murder everyone in that room under three seconds. "She doesn't hate me."

"You want her to hate you."

"Bullshit."

"Because you hate yourself. Isn't that it?"

Sam's eyes were wide when he looked at Natasha. She was the one to deliver a hard kick on the shin when one needed it, tough-loving and relentless with her words- not to hurt the other, but to give them a chance to see things from a different perspective.

When Bucky didn't say anything, Natasha decided to continue. "I don't know how you're justifying this in that 'cyborg' brain but you don't have one single right to punish her. For absolutely no reason, too."

"Natasha-"

"Shut it, Sam." she shook her head. "We get it, you don't like fights. But I never took you for a coward, James, and you're not being anything else but that with the way you're refusing to fight for her."

Nobody said anything else for a solid minute, while Natasha kept glaring at Bucky. His eyes were on the ground now, the harsh nature of Natasha's words hitting him right across the chest- and it hurt. It hurt bad, because he knew that he was hurting you on purpose. "How do I make it right?"

"In my opinion? Leave her the fuck alone-"

"No, no. Natasha, calm your horses," Sam got up from where he was seated, approaching the two with a relaxed expression to calm them both down. "Just tell her how you feel, man. Be real with her. Be completely honest- if you don't love her anymore, just say so. If that's not the case, then-"

"I love her, Sam."

A soft sigh left Sam's lips. "I know. Just talk to her. She'll understand."

Bucky shook his head in a nod. The idea of talking to you was nerve-wracking, to say the least. You hadn't talked to him in a week, despite living in the same compound. Didn't even dare to step into your shared room when he was there, instead deciding to take on a vacant room for a while and get your work done in silence.

You were afraid of continuing that argument, honestly. Because you and Bucky- you two weren't the type to argue. Problems would be solved in peace at all times, with both parties admitting to their faults. So when that dynamic changed, it freaked you out. Just like how falling in love with you freaked out Bucky.

"FRIDAY," Bucky called out. "Where's Y/N?"

An automated voice answered immediately. "I'm afraid that information is classified." Bucky tensed up quicker than he'd like to admit.

"What?" Sam muttered under his breath, gaze finding Natasha's confused one. Natasha spoke up not too long afterwards. "What do you mean by classified?"

"Mr. Stark specifically requested that I keep Mrs. Y/L/N's current location confidential."

"Fucking hell," Bucky heaved a sigh. "Have any of you seen her today?"

"Nah," with a shrug, Sam walked towards the counter to set down his bowl of cereal, suddenly not interested in the food but rather, your whereabouts. "Last I saw her… Yesterday evening, yeah. She was leaving Tony's office, didn't say anything."

"Where did she go after that?"

"Man, how would I know? I'm not keepin' tabs on your girlfriend, that's your job."

"FRIDAY, where's Tony?" Natasha ignored the two, focusing on the matter at hand. For all she knew, you weren't the one to keep secrets from the team. Even on solo missions, you would always keep your tracker on just in case.

"In his office. Shall I inform Mr. Stark of your visit?"

"Nope." lips pressed into a thin line, and a not-so-apologetic shrug. Typical Tony Stark nature. "Just because you live here doesn't mean you have to know everything."

"But she's my girlfriend."

"Just because she made that mistake doesn't mean you have to know everything, Barnes." Tony quipped. "If anyone else in this room was on her position and I were to give away your location, which she specifically made sure that I wouldn't tell, I would be murdered horrendously."

"It's not like her to do that." Natasha's tone was way softer than Bucky's, understandably. She was mad at Bucky and worried about you at the same time but still, keeping her cool was an art form and she was doing it beautifully. "We're just worried, that's all."

"You don't seem like her parents to me."

"Would you tell us if we were her parents?"

"Wilson, use your head. Of course I wouldn't." plopping down on his seat with a huff, Tony rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you'd beg to differ but I'm a very virtuous and excruciatingly handsome man, and I made a promise, so… The door is right behind you. I got a lot of stuff to do."

The sound of Bucky's palm meeting the desk separating him from Tony caused everyone's eyes to find his, including Tony. "You have to give me something."

"I don't owe you anything." Tony's words were like venom as they dripped from his tongue, his challenging gaze on Bucky's rampageous one. "But if you really, really want her to hate all of you, fine. She's on a solo mission."

"A solo mission?! You sent her on a solo mission?!" Sam was quick to grab Bucky by the arm, pulling him back a little.

"Man, calm down-"

"Last time I checked, she was perfectly capable of handling a mission and taking care of herself." Tony spoke, calm despite the furious man standing in front of him. "She wanted to go. Why the hell would I say no?"

"Bucky, he's right." Natasha pushed herself up from the wall she was leaning on. Signaling for Sam to possibly take Bucky out of the office with her eyes, she approached the desk. "I'm sure she's fine and she only did that just so you wouldn't go after her."

"Yeah," Sam continued. "Let's just- let's get you out of here. She'll be back before you know it."

Tony didn't miss the glare Bucky sent his way when he left the office with Sam.

Feeling Natasha's judgmental eyes on him, he looked up at her, leaning back on his seat comfortably. "Do you need anything?"

"What are you hiding?"

"Nothing, except for her location."

"No," Natasha shook her head. "It's obvious you didn't tell us everything. I'm not expecting you to, but I've known you for a long time, Tony. I can see it when you're leaving a crucial part out."

A sigh left Tony's lips.

"She's indeed on a solo mission. A mission that I know absolutely nothing about, and she disabled her own tracker."

"Are you sure nobody knows you're here?"

"God, Clint, what's with all the secrecy?" you weren't even sure your hushed whisper was heard by Clint, crowded streets of Hong Kong were noisy enough to usher a headache within you. You hadn't seen him in a while, with him retiring again, and God he retired a lot, but after receiving a message with 'emergency, don't tell anybody.' and coordinates, you rushed to his aid rather immediately.

You owed him a lot.

Following him to a small apartment building as he pushed the door open, you looked behind to see if anybody was following, before climbing up the stairs with him. "What's going on?"

"Extraction." he whispered. "Kind of a sensitive one. Tony didn't want anyone involved."

"I really think Laura should lock you up sometimes."

"So do I, kid."

Your time spent in his small hideout apartment was filled with intel and planning. It was supposed to be a very quiet mission, a sensitive one like he mentioned earlier- a swift infiltration to save a former SHIELD agent from where he was held prisoner, just so he could return to his research.

You didn't quite understand why Tony wouldn't want anyone to be involved and to save the agent, but you weren't going to ask. You trusted Clint, sometimes more than you did Tony, and if Clint told you that what he's doing was right, then you'd believe him.

The next day, with both of you suited up, his arrows ready and your secret knives hidden beneath layers of fabric all around your body; the quiet approach to the building went pretty smoothly. He kept telling you to keep your cool and to keep it quiet. This was a stealth op, and made sure to assure you that you were excellent at those.

Except, for all the stealth operations, your partner was Bucky. He was the one who knew exactly what you were going to do without needing you to tell him, he was the one who fought by your side, in so much sync with you that it felt like you two were one mind split to two bodies. You felt safer when he was by your side, calm enough to perform better.

You didn't tell Clint that. You didn't tell him that you felt way too insecure without Bucky by your side to perform well.

He was expecting your help, and you were going to deliver.

Except, things took a turn for the worse far too quickly. You got into the room in which the agent was kept, with Clint following from far behind to keep you safe; and saved the agent from his restraints. Before you could lead him out, though, you heard Clint telling you to stop taking your time because apparently, a swarm of people were coming your way, and he had to hide.

You helped the agent all the way down to the ground from the first floor, through the piping by the outer side of the wall and informed Clint of your current location, before spotting a few men running your way.

Pushing the agent away towards the woods where he could hide and protect himself, you pulled your gun out and managed to down at least two of the five men. You noticed one of them following the agent as the two attacked you; landing a harsh kick by one's neck before sliding out your knife and swinging it at the other's direction, but the distraction that they needed came quickly when through your in-ear, you heard Clint's voice again.

"Shit, abort. Get the hell out of there, get away from the building."

And a loud explosion right to your left followed.

Natasha was torn.

Tony's words kept replaying themselves on her head as she paced around the room, unable to decide between telling Bucky and keeping it to herself. She didn't know what she would be risking if she told him, but at the same time, you could get yourself in a much bigger situation and a supporting pair of eyes at solo missions were always required.

She couldn't bear the worry and uncertainty anymore.

Pushing the back door that led to the living room open with a loud thud, she found Bucky by the kitchen area, and Sam by the couch, watching the afternoon news. "I need to tell you guys something."

Bucky perked up at that, pulling himself away from his moping state to get back up on his feet, and walk towards the couch where Natasha approached. "She disabled her own tracker. Tony has no idea where she is, or what she's doing."

"Shit, how are we supposed to find her, then?" Sam slowly got up from where he was seated in worry. But before any of them could say anything else, a loud explosion sound snatched their attention and brought it to the screen.

"Earlier this morning, a lab explosion took place in a Hong Kong biochemistry lab, for reasons unknown. Public CCTV footage shows two unidentified individuals breaking into the building only ten minutes before the blast."

"Isn't that-"

"Damn it," Natasha whispered. "God fucking damn it, Barton."

No matter how fast the Quinjet was, Bucky felt like they couldn't get there quick enough. His heart was basically beating through his ribs, brain pumping adrenaline into every single bit of his veins as he watched the jet decrease altitude. The news didn't even provide the number of casualties, and the fact that he wasn't sure if you made it out of there alive or not was eating him alive.

The fact that he didn't get to make things right with you beforehand was outright torture.

The jet landed on a clearing by the woods, pretty close to the remote building in which the explosion took place. Bucky's strut seemed like it was made out of steel, as if nothing in this world could even attempt to stop him as he walked in front, Natasha and Sam following close behind. It had been at least twenty hours since the blast, and if you were dead, you'd be identified, right?

The news of your passing would be all over the world by now, right?

"I know where they might be hiding," Natasha spoke up, a bit breathless from having to catch up with Bucky's fast steps. "Clint has a hideout apartment, not too far from here."

"Fuck!" your loud cry was enough to land a grimace on Clint's face, as he let out soft shushes, trying his best to wrap your injuries up.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." he mumbled, taping down the bandage wrapped around your thigh before giving it a slight pat. "Just a contusion. I know it hurts but you could have it much worse."

"I know, but it still hurts, you idiot!"

"And whose fault is that? Not mine!"

Letting your head fall back on the cushion with a thud, you let out a slight groan. "How's the agent?"

"Called somebody to pick him up," he sighed, pulling himself up from the floor to sit next to your laid out figure. "I genuinely didn't know that they had explosives laid out through the building. Some sort of eradication. Must've been big, whatever they were hiding."

"Couldn't really keep it quiet, huh?"

"Unfortunately," he chuckled. "But we saved him, at least. Probably going to get an earful from Tony when he finds out… But you did a good job. Thanks for coming."

"Didn't have anything better to do," a grin made its way to your lips. "Don't even wanna go back, if I'm being honest."

A frown took over his features. "Did something happen?" and he continued, when your only response was a slight nod. "Bucky?"

"That easy to guess, huh?"

"Nothing else has an impact on you," a soft chuckle followed. "It'll be fine. You two- you shouldn't lose each other. Not over anything."

"I don't know if I can make sure of that anymore, Clint."

"Look, I'm saying this from a man's point of view," he repositioned himself on where he was seated, now completely facing you. "And I don't ever want you to think that I'm sexist or something, but, um… We're different. In a bad way- we're not… Complicated like your kind."

"My kind? Okay, now that's-"

"No, shut up, you know what I mean," he laughed. "Every single woman that I had the pleasure of meeting knew what they wanted. Maybe it was a bit rough around the edges, maybe it was just a scaffolding but there was a plan. There was an… expectation of how things are supposed to go, you know?"

A short silence followed. "And because of that scaffolding, you folks don't freak out as much as we do. And when you do, you still make sense. We don't. We freak out over the smallest inconvenience and everything goes shit because we don't know how to restructure our own plans that quickly. We take longer to adapt. Because we're a bit more primitive, does that make sense?"

You smiled at him, earnestly. "That's… vague, but it makes perfect sense. Thanks."

His hand found yours then, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry about it."

That night, Clint woke up to footsteps across the apartment. He was sleeping on the armchair by the side of the bedroom, making sure that you were safe on his bed since you had to take a pill or two to manage the pain and fall asleep quicker.

Quickly getting up to his feet, he grabbed the pistol he placed on your nightstand earlier, slowly pulling the door open- only to find Natasha, with a gun in her hand, seemingly relieved to see Clint.

Clint brought his finger up to his lips, signaling the room as to let her know that you were asleep. "What are you doing here?" he whispered.

"That was a sloppy op, don't you think?" Natasha whispered back, teasing. "Gotta warn you, Barnes will be here in a couple of minutes and he's going to be mad, Clint."

"Let him be," he sighed. "She's-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the front door got pushed open, revealing a worried and seething Bucky and an apologetic Sam following suit, shutting the door slowly after the other. "Where is she?"

"She's in the bedroom-" Clint stepped in front of the door, shutting and guarding it. "She's exhausted. Be quiet."

"Why the fuck is she with you?"

"Hey, not like I kidnapped her, alright?" Clint rolled his eyes, still speaking as quietly as he could. "I needed her help and I couldn't call anybody else. I'm sorry I kept your girlfriend away from you for literally two days, Barnes."

Bucky took a step back, heaving a deep sigh. He was angry, angry at you, angry at Clint, angry at himself… Yet he didn't know where to direct that anger. He didn't know how to calm this feeling down. "Why didn't she tell anybody? Not even Tony- what the hell did you make her do that she felt like she needed to hide from everyone?"

A scoff left Natasha. "Bucky, stop making assumptions."

"No- you know what?" Bucky was getting louder by the second, and nobody in the room had the guts to shush him down. "My girl doesn't hide anything from me, ever. I need to know what was so important that she had to turn her tracker off and you had to lead her into a building full of explosives."

"How the hell was I supposed to know that the lab would explode?!"

"You were supposed to make sure that it's-"

"Bucky?" your frowning, sleepy figure appeared by the door that everyone was too busy watching the argument to notice opening. Bucky's gaze visibly softened when he saw you, tense shoulders relaxing before Clint stepped out of the way and with a few steps, he approached you to pull you into his embrace.

You didn't hug him back at first- instead sending a confused look to the rest, to which Sam shrugged as a response. "Are you okay?"

"No, are you okay?" he asked, pulling away to get a good look at your figure. A few cuts and the bandage by your thigh was visible as you were just wearing one of Clint's old shirts and underwear. "Are you okay?" he asked again, tone more stern this time.

"I'm fine," you pushed his hands off of you. "Why the fuck were you yelling at Clint?"

"Yeah, alright, have that conversation without us," Clint sighed, pushing the two of you into the bedroom gently before offering you a small wave and shutting the door, to give you some privacy.

Bucky sighed before looking at you again, wanting so bad to just cup your cheeks and leave kisses all over your face- but he knew he fucked up, and you were mad. "I was worried about you. You left without a word, and when I heard that your tracker was off-"

"I don't owe anyone any explanation." your tone was harsh. "And I'm sorry if I thought that you wouldn't give a shit, Bucky. You made it pretty obvious that you wanted me to leave you alone."

"I never said that," he ran his fingers through his hair, trying his best to stay calm and work this out- but you were almost as stubborn as him, if not more. "I never- I care about you, alright? You're my girlfriend, and you should've told me where you were going."

You shook your head to both sides in disbelief. "You're not entitled to that."

"Y/N-"

"No, you're seriously not entitled to knowing anything about me. Not when you have the audacity to treat me like I'm nothing more than an absolute stranger, and then to not even make an effort to talk to me for a whole week."

"I freaked out, alright?!" he sighed. "I was fucking terrified because- because of you!"

"How the hell is that my fault?!"

"It's your fault! You're the one who made me fall in love with you!" he was loud, and you got cryptically quiet.

He never dropped the L-word before.

"It's your fucking fault because I can't stop thinking about you, I can't stop worrying about you, I can't stop making everything about you and it's putting everyone in danger!" you were biting back a smile now, as he kept ranting. "Including you! I can't- do you have any idea how hard it is to look at you and not just burst into tears because oh my fucking God, you're the love of my life and-"

You cut him off with a kiss to his lips, your hands cupping his face. He was shocked at first, unable to comprehend the sudden switch from arguing to kissing, but he wasn't going to complain. Wrapping his arms around your body delicately, he deepened the kiss, exhaling softly against your mouth when your fingers massaged the nape of his neck.

"You're such a fucking idiot," you whispered against his lips. "You're like, the dumbest person I've ever met. Your IQ is so low that-"

"Okay, okay. I get it." he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm sorry. I genuinely am. I'm sorry for making you feel like I don't love you- because I do, I love you so much that it's physically painful."

"I thought you were tougher than that, Bucky."

"I'm just a coward, honey." with a shrug, he pulled you closer to his embrace. "I'm just a fucking coward, nothing more. But you know what? Seeing you so angry at me, telling me that I don't deserve to know anything about you- that hurt more. I guess I- I really can't be without you."

"I can't be without you either," you sighed. "I've been so cranky, just ask Clint."

"Oh, I'm still kicking his ass."

"No, Buck," a soft giggle left your lips. "He actually plays a grand part in me forgiving you. And he's one of my favorite people in this whole world, so, I won't hesitate to punch you if you ever yell at him again."

"In that case, I'm thanking him. And kicking his ass in my head."

[spilledkauffie]

Bucky x Pregnant Reader

Just some funny & fluffy HCs (they’re kind of long, sorry!!)

*xFemale!Reader || Part 2 !

He’s super cautious about everything, if you want soup for dinner he makes sure it’s not too hot, if you want ice cream he lets it thaw just a little so it’s not too cold. When you asked him why he was sticking a thermometer in your coffee he simple said, “too much heat isn’t good for the baby, it could burn it,” as he stared at the meter, “uh-huh, and you do know we’re not in the 1940s anymore, right? We have a much better understanding of mom-baby connections,” you tilted your head, “Look I’m just being cautious, for you, okay?” It’s old fashioned, but it’s sweet.

He nearly has a heart attack when he sees you on a ladder, a step, the counter, or anything with heights. He will literally man handle you, grabbing you carefully by the waist or under your arms (yes, like a child in trouble) to bring you down from where you were, even if it isn’t actually that high. “It wasn’t even that high, babe,” you sigh, waiting for him to get your chips off the top of the fridge, “it’s not like I was climbing Mount Everest.” / “Close enough,” he shake his head at you with a sassy tone, still distraught over you just heaving yourself up onto the countertop.

Sam is always over! Though he doesn’t have kids, he has nephews he’s close with and thus has had some experience with babies and children. Often Bucky just rolls his eyes when Sam’s giving advice, but Sam comes back with “Oh, I’m sorry, who should she believe, a 106 year old who took vintage sex ed in 1900, or someone who was at the hospital with his sister, like eight years ago?” you had to laugh at the comment, but Bucky just ducked his head, “it was 1939…” / Sam is actually a big help for you, he said he’d try to get his sister up to visit with you and talk baby stuff next time the boys are on a mission so you’re not alone.

Sleeping, Bucky’s made it a habit of always going to sleep with his hand somewhere on your stomach, it’s mainly a protective thing, since before the baby he just had to have an arm around you, holding you. But now it has to be skin on skin contact, which means you’ll feel him slowly and softly slip his hand under your shirt when he comes to bed later than you. You’ve come to love it, often placing your hand on top of his.

↳ “lazy days” have become much more of a thing as you entered your third trimester, some days you just don’t want to get out of bed, and Bucky is completely fine with that, he’ll cook, he’ll bring you whatever you want, he’ll lie in bed with you.

You’ve gotten really concerned about the pregnancy and being a mom on a few occasions. Usually this results in some bouts of depression. In times like those, Bucky makes sure he is there physically and mentally for you. If you don’t want to talk about you, he lets you snuggle up as close and as tightly to him as you want. He understand silent suffering and how much just a physical person being there means. When you do want to talk about it, he’s always there and ready to listen.

One minor wince or groan or mumble from you and he’s on it with the “what’s wrong?” / “what is it?” / “how can I help? Is the baby coming?!” He’s mildly paranoid that he’s going to miss something vital or important if he isn’t 100% paying attention to every detail. This is why no you’ve never teased him about anything regarding the baby, because he’s so concerned and invested that it might just give him a heart attack… He is 106.

He was beyond panicked when you called him over, desperately reaching a hand out for him as he sat down next to you. Taking his hand, you press it to your side, and tell him to wait. Super confused if this is a good or bad moment he waits with an anxious look until- “did you feel that?” you smiled up at him; his jaw drops and spreads into a smile as he shifts closer to you in awe silence you both feel another kick, “wh- how did you do that?” he asks, stroking his free hand through your hair, as he bites the corner of his lip. Finding it precious you’re nearly crying from the happiness when he kisses your forehead.

He’s that guy that gets a book on “pregnancy for dummies,” so he can attempt to better understand what you’re going through that he can’t necessarily see. Needless to say part of the book horrified him, “oh my g- do you know what’s happening inside you?!” You just shake your head finding 10/10 entertainment in just watching his face whilst he reads it. The actual “how birth happens” chapter might’ve been one of the best.

He’s actually a little scared, or worried, about touching your baby bump (with a certain hand). You’ve told him you don’t mind that it’s cold, but he’s still avoidant. When asking him why, he didn’t want to say because he thought you might laugh, promising you wouldn’t he confessed, “what if the vibranium… magnetises the baby?” You managed to keep a straight face for approximately two seconds before breaking into laughter.

Your random (and very intense) moods are the biggest handful for him. He’s trying his very best to know what to do, but he never wants to make you feel like it’s not normal to feel a certain way.

↳ The Crying: one time he was telling you about this past mission he was on. It was like casual conversation for him to talk to you about it, but when he got to the part of “so they had these big dogs-” he looked over at you to find you in absolute tears, he stopped in his tracks, biting in his bottom lip as you stared at him, “and? then what?” you asked, voice breaking, he shook his head slowly, keeping eye contact, attempting to think of something, “then-” / “then you became best friends with the dogs and they were on your side in the fight?” he nodded dramatically to you response “yes, that’s exactly what- what happened… yep, nothing more to that story.” 

↳ constant State of Annoyed: at times you’re just purely annoyed for no reason, typically more passive aggressively, but sometimes you’re just straight up honest about it. When he tells you good morning and reminds you how beautiful and glowing you are, you’ve said “I love you, but your voice sounds like a duck today,” or “I am not glowing, be honest, I look and feel like a blimp.” He still tries his best to compliment you, other times he just hides for the day. Until you become super needy at night.

↳ MamaBear Instinct already kicking in: you’ve become extra protective / defensive. One time you were at the store, around one A.M. (because cravings!) and you were picking out cereals together. Bucky was surprised to see some brands he knew still around: “wow, Chex?” he picked up a box, “I didn’t know they were still making these-“ he trialed off about the cereal, but you noticed some kids snickering a few feet down the aisle. “Then again, the last time I had these they tasted like cardboard,” Bucky winced, “probably cause they were made out of it back then-“ / the kids laughed again, despite the soft Hello Kitty pj pants you had on, you were far from soft. “HEY!” You called out, “are you laughing at him?!” Bucky turned to see who you were talking to, but before he had time to address them himself, he was reaching to stop you from lunging over the cart at them, “I will fucking fight you if you are!” / “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Bucky completely stepped to block you, lifting his hands to meet yours gently, but you just tried to push them out of the way still flustered.

[real-jane]

nostalgia for the new

(bucky barnes x fem!reader, shield)

summary: Bucky overhears someone listening to big band music in the wee hours of the morning. The someone? A curious SHIELD spec ops agent, who doesn't seem to mind his tendency for nostalgia... and happens to be good at picking locks on ankle monitors.

warnings: um. pure fluff? very sassy reader who likes to swear, two idiots starved for touch, lots of references to 'dinosaur music', self deprecating bucky with burden trauma, more fluff and also fluff.

word count: 8.3k+

a/n: this is for @peterhollandkait who bemoaned needing fluff, who also loves the 'I hate everyone except you' trope, and who is directly responsible for my descent into madness... and will be very mad at me for writing this, in a loving way.

series masterlist - masterlist

Somewhere, in the deep recesses of the compound, someone was playing Benny Goodman.

He had tracked the lilting brass lick from the fifth floor stairwell landing--stopping at each ventilation grate to listen. Whoever was listening to Swing’s Senior Statesman occupied the eighth floor. There were only a handful of agents he knew by name, and none of them resided on eight. Could be anybody. It was gonna drive him crazy if he didn’t find the source.

Nobody was out and about in the halls after one a.m., at least nobody who wasn’t an insomniac super-soldier, but someone was awake in room eight-oh-five. There was no light from beneath the door, but Bucky pressed his ear to the smooth metal--this was the place.

He raised his hand to knock and froze. What the hell would he even say?

Hello, agent. It’s urgent that you tell me… why you’re listening to the King of Swing. Right now. Because… I recognize it, and…

And, what?

Hello, agent--you have the musical taste of a centenarian. As do I. Okay, goodnight.

He sat on the floor, beside the door to eight-oh-five, where the first real familiarity since his deprogramming flowed like a blessing. If he remembered Benny Goodman that acutely, it meant old Bucky was still in there. Pre-Hydra, pre-enlistment, innocent bright-eyed Bucky Barnes was perking up his ears from another realm, one in which he had never known anything but sweet girls with one-syllable nicknames, and dates to Coney Island.

Bucky raised a hand to card it through his hair, but his fingers met the unfamiliar shortly-cropped style Steve had urged him to get. Cap had personally escorted him all the way to Brooklyn, to a place called Sal’s with a spinning pole out front--familiar as ever--and flat screen televisions on every station showing the highlights of the current top professional football games.

Unfamiliar.

Steve had said a haircut would make Bucky feel like himself again. The only thing cutting off his hair did for him was remove a layer of safety from invasive eye contact… which, there was a lot of in a compound filled with SHIELD agents who didn’t trust war criminals. Spending forty dollars to have a kid named DJ give him a shitty fade certainly hadn’t been a comforting experience.

No. The one thing that made Bucky feel like the blue-eyed boy from Brooklyn was currently playing on the other side of the door. It wasn’t playing out of a radio, the way he had grown accustomed to when he could find the right frequency in Italy, clutching the little box against his ear for just four bars of Benny before the connection fizzled out… whatever device was playing it now, a phone maybe… the sound system had no problem managing the notes. The future was a strange and horrible place, all told. But there was still Benny Goodman.

Bucky lost track of how long he sat there. His fingers tapped through the melodies on the cement. His heart swelled with the brass. Sometime between midnight and dawn, something a little like calm took him over, and Bucky Barnes fell asleep.

***

You would have fallen on your face if it weren’t for well-honed reflexes, and non-slip soles on your sneakers, because there was an entire man asleep on the floor outside your room. Well--he was propped up on his knee, but dead to the world, with one leg stretched out in front of him. There was no question of who he was, but why… Why in God’s name was the former Winter Soldier parked on the eighth floor? Asleep.

As quietly as you were able, you pulled your door shut behind you. The faint click shocked the man awake, and he was on his feet before you could even greet him. His cheek was imprinted with the lines from the plates in his metal palm, the front of his freshly chopped hair was smashed upwards, and he whirled on you with wide eyes.

“Morning,” you managed, far softer and far more evenly than your racing heart could account for. The man blinked at you, not fully seeing you. He shook his head like he was erasing a bad dream. He frowned.

“Sorry.” He scratched his nape and stumbled away--towards the very elevator you needed to take to the ground floor, so you could run your morning laps on the track.

It would be… very rude to wait for the next elevator to come up, and very obvious if you turned around and made a beeline for the stairwell, so… you found yourself waiting several feet away from the bleary-eyed interloper to the eighth floor. When it became clear that he hadn’t actually touched the down button, you slowly reached forward and pressed it. The man beside you said nothing.

You’d never been within a hundred feet of Bucky Barnes before.

Every agent in your division was either afraid of him, or talked about him like he didn’t belong among the Avengers, and you had it on good authority that none of them had ever so much as shared an elevator ride with him, because he kept to himself. Sometimes he was waiting in the hangar when the quinjet returned, but only if the Captain was returning from a mission, and only if it hadn’t gone smoothly. He didn’t leave the compound, and he didn’t socialize. That was all anyone actually knew. Diane in Medical said she once got to see his metal arm up close, but Diane also claimed to have seen Tony Stark naked in the pool with Director Fury, so you knew better than to believe anything she said.

Also, she made weak coffee. Untrustworthy.

The elevator car arrived, the doors slid open, and Bucky stalked inside. He pressed his back to the glass and waited. You stepped in after him, flicking the bluetooth switch on your cordless headphones so they’d pair with your phone.

Barnes hadn’t pressed a button for his destination.

“Where to?” you asked gently. You looked at him when he didn’t reply--he was staring at the ground, unblinking. Before you could stop it, your hand touched his shoulder--the metal one--and you could’ve sworn that he gasped on contact. He looked at you from beneath the longest eyelashes you had ever seen. His eyes were piercing, like polished mirror. But he didn’t jump, or shake you off, or do any of the things that were flying through your brain as possible punishments for touching the Winter Soldier, himself. He swallowed. He breathed in slowly through his nose. Then, he spoke.

“Five. Please.” The ‘please’ was clearly an afterthought, and his voice was gravelly from not being used much.

“Sure.”

You pressed the button for five, and then the G with a star beside it. The doors closed, enveloping you both in contained silence. The feeling of the elevator descending made your stomach drop, which was enough to make you realize that you were still holding the man’s shoulder. Your hand snapped back.

“Sorry. I… shouldn’t have touched you. Without asking, that’s… super rude, I know I hate it when people just touch me without us even knowing each other. Especially someone from work, like…” you trailed off, and you felt your cheeks flush. “Boundaries, right?” It was the weakest attempt at small talk you had ever made, but you could not stop yourself from trying to be cool about being in the immediate vicinity of a man people largely avoided. Like you wanted to make him comfortable with you. Because everybody said he hated other people, he only spoke to Steve Rogers, blah blah blah--

“It’s… fine.” He shrugged.

The car stopped on his floor, but when the doors slid open… Bucky Barnes didn’t immediately exit, despite how much his body language seemed to indicate wanting to flee. Instead, he reached forward and hit the ‘close door’ button. It did just that. The car descended once more. He turned his body fully towards you and crossed his arms.

He cleared his throat. “I thought I heard… swing music.”

You looked at him with wide eyes. “When--last night? Oh, fuck… I thought I was being quiet, I’m so sorry--”

“No! No. No, uh--” He rubbed his cheek with his knuckles. “I haven’t heard Benny Goodman in, pshhh… seventy years, give or take?”

“So you… like him.”

“Like him? I saw him play at--”

Ding!

For one brief, blinding moment, Bucky Barnes had become a flowing beacon of energy, and then he stifled it just as quickly as the elevator reached the ground floor. There was pink in his cheeks. He stepped back so you could exit, and you paused with a hand on the bumper to keep the door from closing on you. Bucky Fucking Barnes likes big band music, you realized. You could not prevent the smile from pulling at the corners of your mouth.

“You saw Benny Goodman live?” you whispered. Those blue eyes flicked up to meet yours again. He nodded so faintly you nearly missed it. “Bet that was unreal.”

“Carnegie Hall,” he mumbled.

“Fuck. That’s incredible.” The doors lurched against your palm but bounced back open. “I have a record player. It’s not live at Carnegie Hall with Benny, but it gets the job done. I think you’ll agree that any Benny is better than none.”

His jaw was slack in surprise as he just stared at you. The elevator dinged--a sign that an upper floor had called for it. The man narrowed his eyes at you.

“Who are you?” he breathed, incredulous in his navy hooded sweatshirt with STARK ENTERPRISES printed up the sleeve, and black tac pants which clearly hadn’t seen any combat in a long time the way the dense fabric had softened in retirement. He wore black boots like he was going to be called on a mission any ole’ time, but clearly those worn things only saw the smooth cement floors of the compound because the leather would crumble in the heat of field work. He tapped his toe like he was waiting for you to explain yourself.

“Y/n. Agent 257, SHIELD spec ops. Benny Goodman aficionado. And... you are?”

Your hand extended towards him for the second time that morning, this time giving him ample distance to decide whether or not to take it. But… he did. His fingers dwarfed your palm, long and strong enough to shatter every tiny bone. He was very warm.

And of course you knew who he was… nobody could visit the Smithsonian and not become acutely aware that James Buchanan Barnes was an integral part of Captain America’s history. But the enlistment photo of baby-faced James Barnes was nothing like the man you shared the elevator with, and you didn’t want him to think that you presumed anything about him other than what he had personally shared. He wasn’t a figment of Diane’s imagination, a Howling Commando on a propaganda poster, and he wasn’t the Winter Soldier.

Not right now.

“Barnes. Um… Bucky. Fellow Benny Goodman fan.” Something strange happened to his face… almost like a smile. The deepening of dimples, even. The smoothing out of the lines between his eyebrows.

“Pleasure,” you said, and… it wasn’t a lie. You barely came up to his chin, but he was slouching down like he didn’t want to overwhelm you with his stature. Even bent over as he was, he was striking to look at. He released your hand, but as soon as his arm straightened at his side, his fingers flexed and opened again. This was a man re-learning how people were to one another.

“Sorry, and thanks,” he said quickly. “Just… thanks. For a reminder.”

“Of?”

He tilted his head to the side and considered you. “When things were simpler.”

“Sure,” you said softly. The elevator lurched for the tenth time and you stepped out of it, finally. Just before the doors closed, your new acquaintance raised his hand. His lips were pressed into a thin line, but you could’ve sworn the corner was turned up in the faint inclination of a smile.

As you ran your laps on the track, with the dulcet tones of Moonglow crooning between your ears, it came over you slowly, but… Bucky Barnes wasn’t frightening, like the Dianes among you said. He was a lonely person, far from home… clinging to something familiar. You didn’t know anything about that, did you? No… it wasn’t like you cycled through your Grandma’s record collection to send you traveling back in time to Christmases at her side, while she warned you off handsome boys with charming smiles, and taught you how to boil every kind of vegetable until it was grey. No.

You wouldn’t know anything about nostalgia like that.

what happened after bucky met the girl

For the rest of the week… Bucky Barnes was kind of just. Around. Not everywhere you went, but hovering by the elevator a few times when you came back from your morning laps. Twice actually sitting in the caf, which was not a thing his Avengers compatriots ever did. One time juggling a phone he didn’t fully seem to know how to use while passing by from the gym to the locker room. Every single time… he waved. He didn’t quite smile, but somebody was acquainted with the Winter Soldier enough to be greeted by him publicly, and it was you.

But it also became a fun little… moment, for you. He’d wave, you’d get close enough to toss out a quiet “hey, Benny” (which once had Agent Ellis asking you if you really didn’t know Bucky Barnes’ name or if you just liked being a bitch to “a man with no friends.” Except… he did have one friend, and not just the famous one with the justice fixation.).

It didn’t hurt to have a little bit more of that handsome face in your routine. His haircut became less severe--super-soldier hair seemed to grow a little faster--and his stubble stayed perpetually at five o’clock, much to your delight, and his eyes were a little less tired. They didn’t meet most people’s, but… he always looked you in the eye. The corner of his mouth would turn up. If he wasn’t careful, he’d lose his carefully crafted reputation for being repellant.

Entirely unrelated:, you wondered if vibranium was magnetic. It certainly seemed like it when he grasped your elbow to keep you from falling when your heel caught going up the steps. You know… conveniently he was just there.

Maybe you should’ve been creeped out. If he were an opportunist, maybe you would be. But Bucky Barnes let you brace yourself on him as you removed your broken shoe. You received approximately four emails about the sight of you holding onto his metal arm, smiling. One which included slightly blurry pictorial evidence. You saved that photo on your phone without shame.

There were no rumors to feed, or address. But if Bucky got fewer dirty looks in the hallways because you called him a silly nickname and took his help when he offered it… who cares if the gossip mill took a few rotations?

In the meantime you wondered… It had just taken a mutual love of music to find a friend in Bucky. Maybe there were other things that would help you breach his shell a little further… then, your meetings would be purposeful, instead of just… “accidental?”

***

He hadn’t meant to hover, but… M was playing on a massive television, which encompassed most of the wall of the lounge room, just off the communal kitchen on floor five (which was only used by Steve, Sam, Nat, and occasionally Bruce when he could be coaxed out of the lab). Seeing M in the cinema in 1931 had been a trip, the way the audience had squirmed. They were gripped by the story of the sympathetic murderer, put on trial by his peers. This was an old film. Only fossils watched stuff like it.

He found himself leaning against the island with an untouched pb&j in one hand, eyes glued to the screen.

Dot had hated it. “Who cares!” she had exclaimed, touching up the lipstick so sickeningly red that he had begged out of kissing her, for fear of being branded by the acidly crimson mark of a vixen he had no right to date. Dot. What a dame. He shivered. He hadn’t seen the end of that film with his criminally under-enthusiastic companion. He had spent far too much money to get her a black cab home without him at the end of the night.

“Jesus Chris, Benny!” Your voice from the couch made him jump about three feet in the air, and you peered at him over the back of the overstuffed pillows with wide eyes. “You’re too fucking quiet.”

“You have a sailor’s mouth. Benny.” He tossed the nickname back at you and took a bite of his sandwich to feign indifference, despite his confused expression as you paused the film.

“Do you… want to not be a creep, and join me?”

“I’m not the one watching M, doll--”

“I swear to god,” you gasped, grappling with the pillows to sit up and point at him accusingly, “if you tell me you saw this movie when it came out in theatres, I will murder you. With… this mostly-empty popcorn bowl.”

You held it aloft so he could see how very dangerous and roundly-edged your threat was. You couldn’t care less that you didn’t really know this man. You knew you were a lot to be around when you were worked up, and he could deal with it. He’d been around you enough all week without explanation.

This was his penance!

He paused with the sandwich half-inside his mouth. Then, he replaced it on the plate and folded his hands. He narrowed his eyes at you.

“Oh, no. I did see it, quite soon after it was released. In Germany. While I was stationed there, in the original German.”

You melodramatically gasped. “You’re a monster.”

His face fell, and he took a determined chomp of sandwich to hide it. “The sass,” he mumbled between bites.

You sat back against the pillows with a melodramatic huff, turning your attention back to the very old, very creepy movie which was paused on the tv.

There was something about him being there, talking to you candidly--it made you want to push his buttons a little. See if he had a sense of humor beneath that stark exterior. Belabor the point so he stuck around for longer than a wave and a smirk.

Also, there was the very real fact that M was a freaking masterpiece, and it gave you those full-body chills that were just unmatched by modern thrillers… and also Brock Rumlow had made a pass at you at the shooting range, and so the idea of watching a murderer get everything he had coming to him seemed very therapeutic, and being on the same couch as a very handsome man would make it even better. So… you really had every right to be sassy to him. All things considered.

Maybe you should go talk to someone about that, someone with a psych degree. Instead of Bucky Barnes.

He snorted. “Can’t believe you’re watching this alone.” He had migrated to the side of the couch, and stood there with his hands in his pants pockets.

“Imagine trying to sell anyone else on this movie,” you laughed lightly.

“Try me.”

You gestured to the opposite end of the couch. Please, your face pleaded. He folded immediately. Bucky sat, stiffly, sagging against the cushions.

“Picture this: Guy does bad things. Other guy knows it. Writes ‘M’ in chalk and pats him on the back so other people know he’s bad. The whole town shows up to prosecute him, and then you feel bad about it.”

His head swiveled towards you, and before you realized what was happening, he was actually--toothfully--smiling at you.

“That… was the sorriest excuse of a summary that I’ve ever heard!”

A shower of popcorn kernels pelted his upper body and head in retaliation. “You’re extremely rude.”

“Play the movie, already, Benny. You’re losing me.”

You hit play on the remote and watched him out of the corner of your eye. He picked a piece of popcorn from his sweatshirt and popped it into his mouth. His head laid back against the cushions, but he was engrossed in the film. Sure. ‘Losing him.’ If that rapt attention was what losing the Winter Soldier looked like, what the hell did ‘keeping him’ look like?

...your stomach and your cheeks conspired to turn you seven shades of red at your own, far-too-intrusive thoughts. Just like they had when he uttered that little honorific. Not Benny, but… ‘doll.’ The one that reminded you that he was approximately four times your age, trapped in the shell of a forty-year-old man who was far too handsome for how unapproachable he was. Maybe putting a man on ice for that long preserved that old fashioned goodness you’d heard so much about from Grandma Kath.

“Heaven forbid,” you whispered. If he heard you, he didn’t show it. Instead, he watched the rest of the movie with rapt attention.

Towards the end, his posture had changed. He rubbed his chin with one hand, while his metal arm was folded across his chest. He was frowning. As the credits rolled, he let out a breath like he had been suppressing it for a while.

“God. Brutal.”

“Yeah.”

He bounced his knee, staring up at the ceiling. “Why M, of all the films?”

You scoffed. “I had a little angst to work off from the day.”

His head swiveled to look at you. God, Frank Sinatra had nothing on those baby blue eyes in front of you. He raised an eyebrow, as if to say “tell me.”

“Rumlow. Wouldn’t lay off my form during target practice.” You rolled your eyes but the memory still bit in ways you didn’t want to admit, especially not to a man who seemed far too pressed down by his own memories to bear anyone else’s problems.

But. He raised the other eyebrow, and you couldn’t help yourself.

“I’m certified in every hand gun that SHIELD recognizes, I’m a dead shot, and yet that asshole thinks my form could use some work, and he said something really… really shitty, palmed my ass, and I put a hole in his shin, so. I’m sort of on probation until I either apologize, or Nick Fury decides that it was just a funny prank I played on his favorite covert agent.” Your cheeks were red and you were still as angry as you’d been standing over Rumlow, with your pistol smoking.

You didn’t regret it. But it had cost you all the goodwill you had built up in your tenure with SHIELD. It was lucky Natasha Romanoff had witnessed it all, or you were certain you would’ve been escorted outta there with a pink slip in hand. It was thanks to her that you were given the run of the Avenger’s lounge for the evening. Something about “solidarity between women,” and “best thing I’ve seen in ages,” she had said, before popping your popcorn herself.

You worried the slightly swollen tendons in your dominant hand (always happened after too long cradling a compact pistol) when his fingers slid into view. He didn’t touch you, but… Bucky patted the cushion between you in solidarity.

“I have one criticism.”

You looked up at him, confused. The man was smirking at you--an expression that gave you the tiniest glimpse of what sort of power he might’ve had over women in a freshly pressed uniform, and a hat sitting just so on his brow. You had seen photos of him as the Hydra asset, and he wasn’t half as terrifying that way as the idea of unadulterated Bucky Barnes straight out of the 1940s on soldier’s leave, in his dress uniform. The current incarnation of the man was much softer, more serious, but… certain charms could survive seven decades, and brutal mind control.

Dimples were forever.

“You’re clearly not a perfect shot,” he said. “If you were, I wouldn’t have had to listen to Rumlow whine this afternoon, while they pumped me full of someone else’s blood. All of Medical heard his griping. No, no… if you ask me, Benny, you should’ve aimed right between his eyes.”

“Oh god, I can’t imagine,” you laughed. “I apologize that I put you through that.”

“I wasn’t there long enough to hear the root cause, but I understood enough. Now I know that you are ‘that bitch’ to whom he referred, I’m sure you didn’t go far enough.”

“It is I. That Bitch.” You shared a smile with the man.

“It’s an honor,” he chuckled.

A bit of bravery flared in your chest. “That must mean you’re “the Scary Dude” that waits for Rogers on the helipad.”

“Yep. I’m also---” He used his fingers to list off-- “the Scary Dude who gets blood transfusions every Friday in Medical, Scary Dude who lives on five, Scary Dude who can’t leave the compound, Scary Dude everyone’s afraid to get within twenty feet of…”

“Mmmmm… sorry, I don’t see it.” His face had sobered, but he laughed at your words. “You’re telling me that you, Benny, you’re scary? Yeah… I think that’s bullshit.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re a bitch.”

“We’re even.”

“Guess so.” He huffed. “I could do something about Rumlow for ya.”

“Other than shooting him? Nah. Thanks for the offer, though.”

“Sure, doll.”

“Probably should’ve just gone down to the gym and sparred with the first poor sucker I found,” you said wryly. “But watching this movie seemed less destructive.”

“And you got a babysitting gig out of it.” He gestured to himself.

“What do you mean?”

He sighed and reached into his pocket. He offered his phone to you. On his screen was a blueprint of the compound, delineated by blue glowing lines. An indicator blinked with his name over it, and quite close in the image of the lounge, a smaller red indicator flickered. It was labeled ‘AGT 257.’ You felt anger flare in you.

“They’re tracking you?”

Bucky reached down and lifted his pant leg, urging it out of his boots. When the fabric was free, he was able to show you the monitor affixed to his ankle.

“You don’t go anywhere because… you can’t.”

“Mmhm.”

You stared down at the glowing dots, which approximated the two of you as little blinking targets. You knew that interface… before you could second guess it, you brought up the keypad of his device and typed out the code which you had taken part in setting, for a security system, which you hadn’t been given clearance to know anything else about. Without knowing it, you had had a hand in creating that very program.

A Bucky monitor.

You swiped away the keypad and the indicator with Bucky’s name over it came to a standstill. It was still as bright as ever. But it was frozen. Only someone who intimately knew the system would know why it wasn’t blinking anymore, and the only person who knew for now was you. Disabling the tracking was simple, because you had been told it was needed “simply to help disguise or locate agents in the field…” well. You didn’t much like being tracked. And Benny Barnes was your… Well, he wasn’t what they said he was. Not if he liked swing music and old German movies. So.

“What?” he asked. You handed him his phone back, and smiled angelically.

“Hey, do you wanna see that Benny Goodman record?” You stood up from the couch quickly. You had only jammed the system for five minutes. It was the genius of the system--a stop/gap that could also jam infiltrating systems. But you didn’t have long to get him outta there before whoever was monitoring him realized it. You could engage the blocker in your room if you made it before the program was back online, and give him a taste of freedom.

He clocked the grin on your face and frowned. “You don't gotta humor me--”

“Yes or no?” You held out your hand to him and bounced on your toes.

“I mean--”

The metal of his hand was so cool in yours but you yanked him up, and didn’t give him time to actually turn you down before you ran for the elevator. He was faster than you, hot on your heels, and as he came around to what you had done, he squeezed your hand tight.

“My monitor isn’t buzzing,” he breathed as you pressed the up button far more times than it required.

“Wonder why!”

The doors opened and you dove inside. You pressed floor eight. The doors shut. He loosened his grip on you in the course of the quiet ride upwards, but he didn’t let go. You glanced at your own phone. Two minutes until the system un-jammed.

The doors opened again, and you ran full-tilt down the hallway to your door, knocking your wrist against the doorknob as you fumbled to press your thumb to the bioscanner. “Fuck!”

“You good?” he breathed behind you. Your door unlatched, you pushed him inside, and the telltale sound of his monitor resuming its buzz sounded just as your door locked again. You sagged against it. The location would still ping the monitor, but it would look like it just… blipped away in your hallway.

Fuck, indeed.

Your wrist ached. A few fingers massaging it helped, but you’d need to ice it before bed. Ice cold reality hit you when your vision focused on the toes of worn black boots.

Bucky Barnes was inside your bedroom… and you had dismantled his babysitter program. Aaaaaannnnndddd somebody had probably realized it already. And he was staring at you, and he was so damned cute--

Play it cool, woman. You shook out your hand and shrugged.

“I, uh… sorta had a hand in the beta run of that program,” you said, pointing to his pocket where he had stashed his phone to make a break for it. “So. I… also happen to know how to disable that ankle monitor. If you’re so inclined. Oh--do you like Édith Piaf?”

You had trailed off further into your living space--really, it was just a small studio with a bed (which you hadn’t made one time since you moved into the compound, to your ever living shame now that there was a fully grown man there to witness it), a desk, several bookshelves, a small wardrobe, and a personal washroom. Your record player sat open on your desk, with the small stack of records beside it, which you had sorted through the day prior, once you returned from your run and thinking solely about how the man currently in your bedroom seemed to love the ‘good stuff.’

“Who are you?” His voice filled your space. It was such a warm timbre, and you wondered how anybody found him the least intimidating.

“Y/n L/n, Agent 257--”

“I know, I know,” he laughed. “You’re an enigma.”

“Thank you?”

“Oh, that was definitely a compliment,” he said softly. “And yes… I like Édith.”

***

He watched with rapt attention as you disabled his ankle monitor, all while Édith Piaf sang something nice about not having regrets, fingers curled against his skin to wiggle the magnet under the weighty mechanism which had been bruising his ankle for months. Your hair had dislodged itself from its messy bun--

“Je me fous du passé…”

You snorted. “Everyone cares about the past, Piaf.”

He swallowed. Hard. If that was so, then who was he to disagree? He was a man with far more lifetimes of past than most men got, and… all of it clouded by horrors. And if Édith Piaf was wrong, that she couldn’t cast away her past and declare that she was beyond regret, well… he wasn’t quite sure he’d survive a world where Édith Piaf was wrong.

The latch popped. The green light faded out. Your fingers brushed over his ankle bone, but stuck there, poking around at a spot which was especially tender. He sucked in sharply. When you looked up at him, sorry as you were for causing him harm, he sighed.

“You weren’t kidding,” he said.

“We can’t help ourselves,” you said, turning back to his ankle, and smoothing your thumb over purple bruises that the band had created with friction and time. “We are built by it. It’s not who we are, but… our past still shapes us. We have to care. Don’t you think so?”

“…I meant about the ankle monitor.” He twisted his mouth to keep from smiling when you narrowed your eyes.

When you handed it to him--the device, which had rendered him completely captive for months on end, which constantly buzzed against his bone--he shook his head silently. You stood, because you seemed to need to busy yourself with being out of arm’s reach, but you leaned into your desk as Édith’s grief weighed like yours--like his. Bucky wondered, with Doc Raynor’s words in the back of his mind… what’s she carrying that isn’t hers to bear?

He traced the shape of your profile in the dim light from your desk lamp, the subtle glow behind your head.

“I’m gonna get in a lot of trouble for that,” you giggled. “Gods. What would Diane think of me, now?”

“Diane?”

You made eye contact over your shoulder. “Blonde. Works reception in Medical.”

Bucky knew exactly who Diane was, because the last woman to infringe on his space without asking--but without the charm of a girl who knew why Édith Piaf mourned, or Benny Goodman wailed--was Diane in reception. His first real bad turn in Medical, the one which had earned him another two month stay in Wakanda against his will, and the blasted ankle device upon his return. She had fawned. She had clutched at the old Hydra model of his infamous arm, urging him to relax, and he had felt the plates reject the very notion of being caressed. The woman had been zapped on a rogue wire.

Interesting that the new arm had no trouble with you touching him gently. He could’ve sworn the dumb thing purred. Nevermind the fact that he couldn’t stop freaking smiling around you. It was embarrassing. He had a reputation to maintain--people to keep away. The less invasive the better. He wasn’t afraid of being triggered anymore, but… after years of being the guy Steve Rogers went to war for, Bucky was just so tired of only having Steve.

There was another world, one he had only found in his dreams, where there was someone who didn’t make him feel like… he was a burden. Not Steve’s, or his country’s, or anyone. Sam was as close a friend as he had found to Steve, but even Sam bore the brunt of expectation on his back in the compound, so. That left Bucky feeling mighty alone.

Except… this last week. There was You.

Five rapt knocks echoed through your tiny suite and Bucky winced. You frowned at him--was that a hint of regret? He braced himself on his knees. The consequences of an evening with you were about to fall heavy on your head, too. He heard your door unlock and the hinges squeaked as it opened.

“Can I help you?” Your voice was sickeningly sweet, and Bucky couldn’t help but smile into the safety of his knees.

“Buck,” Steve sighed.

“Cap,” Bucky replied, but he didn’t look up at his oldest friend. Édith Piaf taunted Captain America in the doorway.

“Allez, venez, Milord!”

“You can’t take the monitor off, Buck. You know that. I get a call from Fury himself askin’ me why you’ve disappeared off his radar--”

“He didn’t take it off,” you said firmly. “I did. I know where he is. He’s here. So. No monitor needed. Thank you, goodnight Captain America--”

You must’ve tried to close the door in Steve’s face because the metal bounced off rubber with a twang--Bucky heard that sound a million times in the fights both with and against America’s hero. He allowed himself to peek over his elbow, and Steve rubbed his face. He was in his gym clothes and a hoodie--he wasn’t kidding, Fury must’ve called him immediately away from his usual Friday boxing sessions with Sam.

Steve fixed his eyes on Bucky and nodded to the door.

Bucky moved to stand, but you side-stepped around the Captain so you were between them. Your finger pointed at Bucky as if to warn him to remain where he was.

“Can you explain to me why this man here is being kept like a tiger in a cage?”

The pitch of your voice was in direct conflict with the wailing French chanteuse, but you made no move to either lower the volume or turn it off, and neither did Bucky. He watched your fingers dig into your hips as you took a fighting stance. Your hips canted to one side--you were all leg. You also happened to have beautiful hind assets, which James Barnes was too much of a gentleman to fixate on. Much. But you were standing right in front of him, and directly in his line of sight--

“I don’t like it either,” Steve sighed, “but it’s a condition of his pardon.”

“It’s a dumb condition,” you insisted.

Bucky sighed. It was not worth the energy you expended, even if hearing you do so on his behalf did things to him, things which he ought not even think about in your presence.

“Doll--”

“Hush, you. You realize that he’s a marshmallow, Rogers? Why are you letting Fury decide whether your buddy can eat a sandwich without surveillance? You vouched for him. He’s done his work. Let the poor man listen to some freaking music in peace.”

Steve was silent for longer than seemed necessary, but he reached over and flicked the record player off. He was much taller than you, and yet you weren’t cowed. Bucky shook his head as Steve patted your arm. “Steve Rogers. Who are you?”

“Why do you old men keep asking me that?” You ask, as you took Steve’s hand. “Y/n.”

“You shot Rumlow,” Steve said with a touch of admiration.

“You’re a legend now, doll.” Bucky’s chest tightened when you glanced at him, eyes glinting with glee.

“Nat is your biggest fan.” Steve’s face betrayed amusement and he let down the front of intensity he had put up, clearly having expected to be confronting Bucky about what was going on. Now that it was a legendary agent, the likes of whom Natasha Romanoff was praising, Steve was more than happy to relax.

He still shot Bucky a pointed look.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, shook his head--leave it, Rogers!--but Steve folded his arms. He leaned back against the wall (classic Rogers I’m-About-to-Dad-You-About-Something pose). Bucky’s head fell against your mattress. He hadn’t really been thinking about it when it was just the two of you, but once a third person entered the strange sphere of understanding he felt… guilty.

No, no--you don’t get to regret this, James Buchanan Barnes.

She’s nice--pretty, even.

She likes your dinosaur music, and weird movies.

She’s hilarious, and she isn’t afraid to shoot assholes.

She’s the first shred of evidence that you have some goodness left in you. And if there’s just one tiny piece of good left, that’s enough to hang your hat on.

“You’re smiling.” Your voice was soft next to his ear. Bucky’s eyes flickered open. Steve was gone, you had put something else gentle but swinging from at least the Cretaceous period, and you were pressed up against his left side--the arm that didn’t like Diane, but seemed to be awfully pleased to have you near.

“Penny for your thoughts, Barnes?”

“I…” he laughed, and stopped himself. “I don’t know. Is that ok?”

“I suppose.”

“Did you call me a marshmallow?” he asked in faux annoyance. You rested your elbow on the bed behind his shoulder, and turned your knees against his thigh, beaming.

“That’s what you are, Bucky Barnes.”

He patted your knee, but the hand remained there, tightening for purchase. “I’m not, doll. You… you get that, don’t you? It’s nice of you, what you said to Steve, but. They’re right to keep watch on me.”

Your irises flicked back and forth between his as you studied his face--Bucky didn’t like being looked at, perceived, but your gaze just wasn’t the kind he used to hide from behind a shield of unkempt hair. It sort of felt like… you saw through it. Beneath the wrinkles formed through decades of pain, beneath the hardened mask and dark circles under his eyes… he wondered if you would’ve taken a second look at him if he was just a soldier on leave and you were a sweet girl he met in a smoky bar. The kind of girl who would see through the soldier’s bravado, too. And the programming, and what he had done.

“You think so loud.” You brushed the vein in his forehead, smoothing the worried wrinkle that lived between his eyebrows permanently. Bucky shivered.

“You got me thinkin’.”

“Sounds dangerous.” You grinned.

Bucky squeezed your knee and wrinkled his nose up, but he was so far from annoyed by the girl who got him thinking like a boy again.

“Bucky,” you said gently. “I know what they say about you. I’d have to be stupid not to hear the gossip that goes on in this place.” Your fingers touched his temple experimentally, and Bucky closed his eyes. “I also have approximately zero space for people who make me uncomfortable, and… there’s just something about you, Tin Man.”

“Hmm?”

“Mmhm. Is this ok?” By then, your knuckles kneaded a slow pattern in the base of his neck, working at a knot that probably fed off the way his bones bore the vibranium prosthesis, at least that’s what Bucky figured based on the way Banner kept sending him referrals to the physical therapist on staff. The green guy wasn’t subtle. Bucky opened one eye.

“Doll, people don’t… touch me. Generally.”

“So that rumor about you giving out Free Hugs on Fridays…”

“Totally false.” He smiled.

“Good to know. What other music do you like?”

“Trying to distract me?”

“It’s working.”

“I saw some Ella Fitzgerald over there--”

“Say no more.”

You stood, pushing off his shoulder to get some leverage, but he held fast to your hand. You stopped, looked down at him… he hoped he’d remember the softening crinkles by your eyes for the rest of his life. It just took a tug and he was up, too. You pressed his cool metal fingers to your hip so you could stay connected, but reached over and changed the record. Bucky watched the curve of your neck as you set the needle in the right groove. That place on your neck looked special. Soft. Like it was in dire need of having nice things whispered into the freckles it bore. His other hand found your right hip, just grazing there. The music started up again.

God, he had listened to that song a hundred times, but it never sounded like that before. Maybe it’s because you turned between his hands, your right hand sinking into the coolness of his left and holding it to your heart. Maybe it’s because your left hand guided his right around your back, and you stepped into his chest. He sure was thinking, a mile a minute.

No, there’s no way he ever would’ve heard this song this way before he knew what loss felt like. He used to take it for granted, holding a girl in his arms while a band crooned away, but. Ella Fitzgerald and You were all he needed just then.

You smelled like lilac, and you hummed against his neck in a way that had Bucky seriously pondering if he was actually just dead or dreaming--then, you laughed, and he was so glad to be alive. Your grin turned up at him. He couldn’t help but smile back.

“I told Captain America to get lost,” you whispered. “And he listened to me!”

“Apparently,” he chuckled.

“Can I make an observation?”

“Don’t know if I can stop ya, doll.”

“You’re nice to be around,” you said, “and I think you’re a little dizzy for touch, but… so am I, and I’m big enough to admit that.” You rubbed the nape of his neck, memorizing the growth pattern of the gentle swirls which were only just long enough to start forming. “But if you feel differently, at any point… that’s okay.”

“I’m… I dunno,” he blushed. You were right. He could tell he didn’t need to confirm it. But if he ever felt differently, it wouldn’t be feelings of retreat. He didn’t know the meaning of the word.

“S’okay. But you have a standing invitation to my private jazz club any time. And to lunch, or if you want to spar, or watch really weird foreign films that nobody else would care about… or if you, like me, really need to feel like it’s okay to take up a little space on this god-forsaken earth without owing anybody anything…” You shrugged. “Then I’m game.”

It didn’t take much from the position you were in for Bucky to engulf you fully in his arms. Your toes barely grazed the ground--in fact, you wound up standing on his shoes--and he let himself press his lips to your neck and hold you. He couldn’t really wrap his head around it, the offer you made. But that wasn’t something he needed to really grasp all at once.

That night, Bucky Barnes just needed to sway while holding a beautiful woman who said nice things in his ear.

--

The Winter Soldier was still notorious around the compound, but… his reputation suffered a cataclysmic shift in the days, weeks, months that followed.

He was seen every morning jogging beside you, Agent 257, each of you with one earbud in your outside ears as you kept pace side by side. He took his meals in the caf in a booth by the window; he ate a strict diet, which was capped by a brownie he shared with his meal companion--You. He bought a motorcycle, and you rewired it so he could blare the top forty of the 1940s at will. Which he did, whenever he liked, and Fury fielded enough complaints to have a solo garage built for the man.

He smiled. Not at people, but at You. He made you coffee so strong you had to beg for mercy.

He didn’t wear a goddamn ankle monitor anymore. Sometimes he got to leave the compound--with you and Steve as his escorts, but at least it meant occasionally seeing a movie or watching the sun set over the National Mall, with one arm around You… and Steve Rogers sitting fifty yards away in a baseball cap and sunglasses, absolutely invisible.

When you were off duty, he’d meet you in the gym to spar. If you were on duty, he’d spot you at the range. When you were sent off-site for missions, he would always be waiting in the hangar for you to touch down again… having anxiously watched a program on his phone, which allowed him to monitor your location at all times you were apart. It had taken about half a mission of Bucky pacing Tony’s office for the man to hook him up with his own surveillance that linked to your beacon.

He bullied Banner for your blood work that time you got hit by a sniper, and got himself banned from visiting Medical. He talked spec tech into a new kevlar suit with a better brace for your shooting hand. Bucky had your six, and you never allowed him to question whether or not his efforts were appreciated. You wrote him so many thank you notes that he had to buy a book to press them in (and definitely didn’t read them when you weren’t around).

His fingers gravitated to yours, or your back if your hands weren’t free, or your waist if you carried something heavy up stairs, or to your shoulder to take your bag, or your hair to ease your aching head when stress became too much. And it never mattered who was around. He was private, but you were too important not to hold.

The first time you were off the compound longer than a week, Bucky met you at the bottom of the ramp of the quinjet--and suddenly, he was known for kissing the life out of a top level agent in front of most of the Avengers and God and frankly, he didn’t care who else. Nobody knew that was the first time he let himself kiss you like that, but they certainly knew that the Winter Soldier had his girl. He courted you at the pace of a snail, but he made oaths only meant for you shortly after the public kiss, while Benny Goodman played in the background.

You made your bed for him. He unmade it, with your help.

It wasn’t absolution, or some kind of amends for what he had been or done. You were the exception--nostalgia and future in one. That was the thing about Bucky Barnes: he found himself somewhere between who he was before Hydra ever touched him, and who he could be after You touched him, and it didn’t matter what anybody else thought of him. You had a way of bringing out the very best in Brooklyn’s blue-eyed boy.

All it had taken was super-soldier hearing, a touch of insomnia, and Benny Goodman.

***

Thanks for reading! Part 2

[bbgem329]

If Only You Were Mine… Chapter Eleven

Pairings—Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary

You’ve been in love with Bucky Barnes since the moment you laid eyes on him. That was five years ago, when your older sister brought him home for a Sunday lunch and introduced him as her boyfriend.

Warnings

MINORS DNI! 18+. Fluff. Angst. Protective!pining!Bucky. Language. Pregnancy. I love sassy Sam.

Series Masterlist

—————

“Woah.” Sam stuttered out, causing you to glance up from the dough you’d been kneading. He stood frozen in the doorway, jaw slackened and eyes wide as he scanned the baking trays and ingredients lining the countertops. “I think you’re going a little overboard on the craving Y/N/N.”

“Fuck off, Sam.” You huffed, biting your lip to suppress a grin. “These aren’t for me…Or you.” You slapped his hand away as he swiftly approached the counter, making grabby hands for one of the perfectly baked Santa cookies cooling on the baking rack. “They’re not even ready, ya hooligan. Knock it off.”

“You’re no fun.” He gave you a small pout, arms crossed over his chest, and chin deliberately tilted away. “Why are you making them if we can’t eat them?”

You rolled your eyes over his dramatics, a puff of air escaping your lips as you grabbed the roller, flattening out the dough to prepare cutting another batch of snowman cookies. “They’re for the soup kitchen. I usually volunteer there a few times a week. Seeing as I can’t exactly leave the Manor, I figured I’d at least do something to help. This is the busiest time of year for them.”

You turned away from him for a second, snatching the cookie cutter off the counter behind you. “Put the cookie down, Sam. I won’t tell you again.”

“Damn, woman.” Sam groaned, and you whipped around to find him looking like a toddler mere seconds from throwing a tantrum. “You got eyes in the back of your head or something?” He shook his head, studying you skeptically with his lips pursed, “You know you’re taking this whole mom thing very seriously-”

“You fucking with my girl, Wilson?”

You couldn’t help but blush at Bucky’s not so subtle attempts at flirting, bowing your head to hide it as he appeared behind Sam in the doorway. He shot you a playful wink before puffing out his chest and schooling his features to appear all too threatening and stoic. It was all for show but honestly you’d hate to be on the receiving end of that look someday.

Bucky had a bad case of RBF.

“She used the mom tone of me.” Sam defended, dismissively lifting his arm in your direction with an exasperated eye roll. “And she won’t let me have a cookie.”

Bucky raised a brow, eyes flickering curiously between the two of you and the arrangement laid upon the counter. You shrugged your shoulders in response, an innocent smile spread across your lips.

Ignoring Sam completely, Bucky sauntered around the island, a brilliant smile on his face as he sidled up next to you. “Good morning, how did you sleep?”

“Are you serious right now?” Sam huffed, broad shoulders deflating as he spun around and trekked out of the kitchen like a kicked puppy.

“Like a baby.” You responded, sparing him a quick glance and another smile. “That pregnancy pillow works wonders. I honestly might sleep with it for the rest of my life.”

“I’ll bet. It looks comfy.” Bucky chuckled, turning to lean against the counter, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you carefully line the snowmans on a baking sheet. “I’m honestly a little jealous. Might just have to buy one for myself.”

You laughed, playfully nudging his shoulder after placing the last cookie on the sheet. You lifted the tray, spinning around to slip it into the oven. Bucky followed you as you moved to wash your hands in the sink before setting a timer on your phone.

“And how do you feel?” He inquired, eyes flashing between your face and your protruding bump. “How’s baby today?”

“I feel good.” You replied lightly with a nod of your head, tossing the towel over your shoulder after drying your hands. “My back and hips are a little sore but that’s to be expected.” You slid down to the other end of the kitchen, checking to see if the cookies were cool enough to begin frosting. “I imagine that’s only going to get worse as the baby grows heavier.”

“I’m sorry.” He frowned, fingers brushing the stubble lining his sharp jaw. He placed his palms on the cool countertop, leaning slightly over it as he cautiously studied you. “Are you sure you’re okay being up on your feet like this? The doctor said you should be taking it easy.”

“I’m fine, Buck. Promise.” You shot him a shy smile, cheeks heating under his sincerely concerned gaze. He was so good at checking in and making sure you were doing okay each and everyday for the past few weeks. If his effort and involvement were any indication, Bucky was going to make an excellent father. You were lucky to have him.

Now if you could only get him to worry less.

If you thought Bucky was protective before, it was nothing compared to now.

“But,” You started, wearing a sly smirk, “If you’re up for it, I could definitely use some help frosting and decorating these cookies.”

“Of course.” He straightened up, already moving towards the sink to wash his hands. “Anything you need, sweets.” He grinned at you from over his shoulder as he began thoroughly scrubbing his hands, “But forewarning, I frost a mean Candy Cane. Do you have those tube things to be more precise?”

You shook your head, chuckling softly over his silly antics. You swore he’d do just about anything you asked these days—beyond eager to please you. You couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty over the knowledge but you knew it was only fair. He had quite a bit to make up to you. But his efforts definitely weren't unnoticed.

“Yeah, Buck.” You grinned, shooting him a little wink, “I got it all. Everything you need is right here.”

“Oh, sweets.” His tongue darted out to lick along his bottom lip, cerulean eyes an entire shade darker as they scanned the length of you. “It sure is.”

Your entire body seemed to heat up under his gaze. Head dipped down to hide the flush in your cheeks as you took in your own attire. A part of you couldn’t fathom why he’d be looking at you like you were a three-course meal just waiting to be devoured. The high waisted, knitted cream joggers, far too tight black tank top that had your swollen breasts squished and nearly spilling out the top, and your natty, oversized gray cardigan didn’t exactly scream sexy. Nor did the red plaid apron tied securely over your front.

You were walking on a very thin line.

The doctor had warned you that in the second trimester your hormones would increase and your sex drive would go up too. It didn’t at all help that the father of your child, the reason for the changes occurring in your body, was practically an Adonis of a man. More often than not you found yourself nearly throwing caution to the wind—tearing those stupid, perfectly fit gray joggers and tight t-shirt from his body and spending the rest of your life riding him into the damn sunset.

“You’re-” You took a shaky breath, blush deepening and chest heaving as your mind flashed through far too many dirty fantasies than should be possible in just a few seconds. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Can’t help it.” He shrugged, a boyish grin tugging at the corner of his plush lips as he stepped up beside you to help collect the cookies on a large tray.

Your heart clenched at the sight of that smile, it had been far too long since you’d seen him so happy and relaxed—perfectly content. You wished he’d look like that in every moment of everyday and you found yourself yearning to be the reason he did.

You both fell into a comfortable silence as he helped you lay a plastic tablecloth over the breakfast nook table before carefully spreading the cookies in the middle upon it and laying the many bowls of frosting around the outside edge. You expected him to slide into the booth across from you but instead he’d eagerly slipped in beside you with a small pat on your thigh as if to signal you to scoot over.

Sitting shoulder to shoulder, his thigh pressed comfortingly against your own, you both started quietly frosting the Santa cookies. At one point, you asked the Alexa on a shelf by the stove to play a Christmas station and the silence was soon filled with soft, classic Christmas tunes.

Every so often Bucky would gently nudge your shoulder before flashing whatever design he was working on his cookie in your direction with a proud, beaming grin.

It wasn’t long before the timer went off on your phone and you heaved yourself up from your seat with Bucky’s hand resting on your back in an attempt to assist you and steady you on your feet. Taking the sheet from the oven, you carefully slipped each cookie onto the cooling rack as you sang along to Michael Buble's rendition of ‘Baby it’s cold outside’.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You responded, though you didn’t look up from your work, far too distracted over the possibility of breaking one of the snowmen.

“I need to talk to you.” He cleared his throat, voice wavering slightly, “Get some things off my chest.”

Your head snapped up at his admission, anxiety bubbling and rising from deep within your chest. You hated those words. It usually meant no good and suddenly you found yourself wondering what might’ve gone wrong. A million possibilities swarmed to the forefront of your mind, all of which were negative and frightening.

You took a deep breath, dropping the empty baking sheet on the stove to cool before ambling around the counter and sliding back into the seat beside him.

“I see the wheels turning in your head.” He mumbled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair that had fallen from your braid, behind your ear. “It’s nothing bad.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief, relaxing back into the booth as you shot him a curious, sideways glance.

You noted that he looked nervous—his plump lip trapped between his teeth, hands wringing in his lap as his eyes darted from side to side. There was a subtle blush coating the apples of his cheeks, that only seemed to darken as he rolled his shoulders back, a shaky breath spilling from his parted lips.

“I wanted to wait until things calmed down a little to have this conversation.” He turned to face you, knees bumping yours as he shifted to get comfortable in his seat. “I wanted you to be healthy and less stressed. You also needed time to process everything and I didn’t want to take away from that.”

He must’ve noticed the furrow in your brow and the purse of your lips because before you could ask what he was trying to get at, he took your hands in his and spoke first.

“I love you.” You opened your mouth to speak, heart stuttering in your chest but he lifted a hand, stopping you, “Let me finish before you say anything, okay? I really needed you to listen and let me explain.”

You nodded, bottom lip rolling between your teeth as you waited patiently for him to find the courage to continue.

“Over five years ago, I met the most beautiful girl. I remember she was wearing this cute sky blue dress and her hair was perfectly curled. She was the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen and I kid you not, it was love at first sight.” He exhaled a shaky breath, offering you the smallest of smiles as he glanced up at you from beneath his lashes. “Unfortunately, she was the sister of the girl I was intended to eventually marry—who I was reluctantly dating at the time. She was something really special, throughout this stupid Sunday brunch—lunch, whatever it was, she was the one person in the room who looked at me like I was a human being and actually cared to know me.” He continued, “While her family was obviously only interested in my education, my job, and my money, she was asking questions about my Harley and complimenting me on my leather jacket and an old band t-shirt.” He chuckled, “I’d only worn it to piss my dad off. Wanted to leave a bad impression so that her parents decided they didn’t want me to marry their daughter after all.” He frowned, gazing solemnly across the room. “Clearly that didn’t work. Apparently money, blood, and power matter more than a person’s character or compatibility.”

“Buck-”

“I knew I could never have her. I was trapped—had my whole future planned out for me.” He sighed softly, head tilted toward the ceiling as he fought to get his emotions in check. “I would marry the selfish, conniving woman, take over my father’s company, produce at least one heir, and spend the rest of my days living a miserable life. I’d come to terms with it, knowing that it was what my ma and sisters needed me to do.” He lifted your hands to his lips, pressing tender kisses to all ten knuckles before offering you a warm, genuine smile, “But then I met you.”

“I should’ve stayed away, Y/N. It was so fucking selfish of me to even befriend you. I knew how I felt about you with just one glance but I just couldn’t get over the need to know you.” You whimpered softly, heart wrenching in your chest. “It only made my affections worse. The more I got to know you—spent time with you, the more I found myself growing reluctant and resistant to the plans our parents had.” He chuckled mirthlessly, giving a shrug of his shoulders, “I mean how could I not? You’re just so beautiful. Inside and out. You care so much and you give your time and love so freely. You’re the purest soul I’ve ever come across and I couldn’t—wouldn’t dare bring myself to walk away and lose you for good.”

“I’ve come across many people, of all kinds, but none of them compare to you.” He declared, sentiments sincere and eyes a little watery. “I tried so hard to fight it. I knew that you deserved better and I would only bring you pain.” He inhaled sharply, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Just because I was trapped, didn’t mean you should be too.” He frowned, eyes falling to your hands intertwined in his lap, a single tear falling down his flushed cheek, “I'll never forgive myself for the way I’ve hurt you. If I could go back and do it all over again, I would in the blink of an eye. I wish I would’ve told you everything from the very beginning—communicated exactly how I felt and informed you of what was going on.” His voice was so quiet and meek, the pure agony and regret in his cerulean eyes was clear as day, and left a raw ache growing steadily within your heart, “A part of me thought keeping you out of it was for the best, that I was protecting you. I tried so hard to walk away, let you go because you were better off without me and this mess but I guess I never found the strength.”

Bucky took a deep breath, brushing his thumb along the back of your hand. “And for that I am so unbelievably sorry.” He paused for a moment, gnawing nervously on his bottom lip. “I know nothing will ever make up or right my wrongs but I really need to try. Because not having you around for those few months was worse than hell… so what I’m trying to say is, no matter what you decide—whether we remain friends or acquaintances or you view me as nothing more than the father of your child, that’s okay. Because I’ll take you in anyway that I can get.” His brows furrowed, lips pursed, and nose scrunched in distaste. “Not saying it wouldn’t suck—because it would. I want to be with you, I really, really do but I guess I just needed you to know that I’ll respect whatever you decide-”

You giggled, cheeks painted bright pink, “Buck-”

“But you’re literally the love of my life, so you can’t fault me if I put up a fight. I won’t let you go that easily.” He glanced away, hand slipping from yours to run his fingers on the coarse hair on his chin, “Well I guess I’d have to if you asked-”

“James Barnes!” You spoke louder, causing his eyes to snap in your direction and his expression to fall slightly.

A feeble laugh spilled from your bitten lips over the uncertainty in his wavering sentiments. It was far too rare to see the Bucky Barnes lacking confidence and sputtering his feelings out so freely—spilling out of him and into the world like word vomit. But apparently his usual self assurance vanished when it came to you.

It was wrong to feel giddy and the tiniest bit smug over it. Bucky was clearly desperate to share with you how he feels—to express just how much you mean to him and how sincerely sorry he is for what had occurred since the moment he’d laid eyes on you.

James Buchanan Barnes wasn’t ever one to beg but he looked to be seconds away from getting on his knees and doing just that.

He was putting himself out there—placing his entire heart on the line and letting himself be vulnerable for once in his life.

All for you.

He wanted—needed you to know that no matter what you decide or where you go, he’ll be there in whatever form you need him too. Even if it meant not having you at all.

That to him, you and your happiness were more important than his own.

To ease his mind and squash the budding insecurities bustling in the forefront of his mind, you leaned forward and placed a soft, lingering kiss on his reddened cheek. “You’re rambling, honey.”

It was almost as if the weight of the world was lifted from him. He rolled his shoulders back, neck stretching from side to side as a breath of relief slipped past his lips, and a smile cracked across his face. The deep blush on his face creeped up to the very tips of his ears and he hesitantly shifted his gaze to meet your eyes.

“Don’t say anything yet.” He swallowed thickly before speaking up, voice low and thick, and it left pleasant shivers dancing up your spine. “Don’t make any decisions, I just want you to think about it.” He cleared his throat, glancing away shyly, “I just really needed you to hear me out. To let you know I mean it when I say I love you and I’m sorry.”

It was a lot to take in and you were thankful he didn’t expect you to answer because, truthfully, you were at a complete loss of words. You definitely hadn’t expected this today but from the relief in his sentiments and the tension that seemed to lift from his shoulders, he was at his wits end and desperately needed to get it off his chest.

“Okay.” You nodded apprehensively. “I-” You swallowed thickly, a shaky breath spilling from your lips as you attempted to muster a warm smile, “I appreciate everything you said. Thank you.”

“Of course.” Bucky nodded, one hand slipping from yours to scratch the back of his neck, “Well, we better get back to work.” He laughed softly, shifting back to sit in his previous position and grasping the half frosted snowman in his large hand, “These cookies aren’t going to frost themselves.”

You watched him for a moment, eyes narrowed as he quietly hummed along to the music playing in the background and continued to frost the cookie as if he hadn’t just dropped his entire heart in your hand.

You wish you had something to say—anything at all, to console him in a way or promise him that everything would work out in the end.

But you couldn’t—not right now.

You needed time to consider his words and you wouldn’t dare give him false hope.

So you said nothing, sparing him one last glance before turning your attention back to the many cookies laid out, waiting to be decorated.

—————

“What about this one?”

Bucky rose from where he was squatting down in front of the fireplace, hooking the poker back up on the wall before crossing the room in a few strides.

You shifted over on the settee, readjusting the wool blanket over your lap and lifting your feet onto the ottoman he’d moved in front of you to lounge more comfortably, as he sank down beside you.

You tilted the laptop in his direction, index finger wiggling over the white crib you’d picked out and an eager, expectant grin split across your face.

“It’s nice.” He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his plush lips. “Whatever you like, we will get.”

You huffed out a sigh, eyes shifting lazily along the laptop screen as you added it to your cart before scrolling through various dressers and rocking chairs.

You attempted to steal one more sneaky glance out of the corner of your eye, only to meet his cercelean hues and boyish grin.

The way the light from the flames danced across Bucky’s sharp features, made you take pause. He looked so handsome and relaxed in the simmering light—arm tossed lazily over the back of the couch behind you, legs spread wide so his sweats were pulled deliciously over his thick thighs, and hair tousled in every which direction from running his hands threw it so much, and nothing but contentment in his sentiments.

It was completely unfair.

Why did he have to be so effortlessly gorgeous?

You shook your head to yourself, lip trapped between your teeth as you forced your mind to focus on the matter at hand, “Is it too soon to do this?” You wondered out loud, “I mean, where are we going to put it? I can’t go back to my apartment right now and I don’t know if that’s the best place to raise a baby, especially with everything going on.”

Bucky hummed to himself, shifting in his seat. You lifted your gaze in time to see him scrub a hand down his beard, a thoughtful furrow in his brow. “Well I mean,” He shrugged his shoulders, lips pursing slightly, “It doesn’t hurt to order it now. That way it’s here for when you're ready to… find a place—somewhere to settle down.”

The look on his face was all too familiar. Bucky had a few ideas brewing within his head and he wasn’t quite ready to share.

Truth be told, you didn’t want to speak about it either. What comes after this—where you’ll go.

For now you’d keep that discussion tucked within a locked box, for later.

“You’re right.” You whispered, eyes flickering back to the lit up screen before clicking on a beautiful light wooden dresser. “Maybe we shouldn’t do white. Babies are messy.”

“I like that color.” He offered softly, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. He lifted his hand, gesturing with a finger below the image, “Look you can get it in a set.”

“Should we get it?” You giggled excitedly, wiggling your brows at him and a small smirk on your face. “It’s kind of expensive though.”

“Fuck yeah, we should get it.” He chuckled, snatching the laptop out of your lap, placing it on his own before adding it to the shopping cart. “Do we need anything else? It doesn’t include a rocking chair, maybe we could find one of those comfy, plush ones.” He typed ‘rocking chairs’ into the search bar, “So no white…” He scrolled down, clicking on a cozy looking one that came with a little rocking ottoman. “Wow, so many different colors.”

“What about the navy?” You suggested, scooching over until you were practically pressed into his side. “It’s a gender neutral color.”

“Sweets!,” He gasped, a beaming smile growing on his face, “You might be onto something. That could be the theme.” He shook his head, a delightful laugh spilling from his lips. “Like navy stripes or something. That would be fricken cute.”

“Right?” You giggled, “And if we have a girl we could add some pops of pale pink here and there or light blue if we have a boy.”

“See, now that’s perfect.” Bucky praised, fingers typing furiously on the keyboard of your laptop as he searched, starting with crib sheets, “I already have a list of all the necessary items we will need in my notes. Car seats, strollers, baby bouncers. We should definitely get a bassinet because in all the articles I read they said the baby should sleep in the parents room for the first couple weeks—months.” He shrugged, casually scrolling through the sheets, pausing on a pair of flannel striped ones, “Probably easier that way with how often babies wake to breastfeed in the middle of the night—wait, do you wanna breastfeed our baby?”

You froze, shooting him a curious gaze—eyes wide and lips parted in surprise, “You read up on all this stuff?”

A deep blush rose to the peaks of his cheeks, turning his head slightly away to hide it. “I mean, yeah.” He admitted quietly, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “I—I wanted to be prepared, ya know? I even ordered some parenting books.”

“You brought parenting books?” You asked softly, heart thumping wildly in your chest and butterflies swarming in your belly.

“Yeah.” His cheeks seemed to redden, he lifted his hand to comb his fingers nervously through his tousled hair, lips tugged up into a bashful smile. “I've finished three in the past week… if you wanna read them too, they’re up in my room.”

“Buck.” You wanted to blame the hormones but part of you knew it was much more than that. Tears brimmed the corner of your eyes, bottom lip wobbling slightly.

You just couldn’t help yourself and before you knew what you were doing, you launched yourself into his embrace.

Although he was taken aback, he caught you with ease, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and burrowing his face into your hair as you locked your own arms around his neck and shoved your face in the crook of his neck.

“Thank you.” You breathed out, voice trembling slightly. You exhaled a shaky breath before inhaling his comforting scent. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

The smell of him alone was enough to send shivers dancing up your spine and tranquility washing over you. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he started rubbing soothing circles up your sore back.

You sunk further into his embrace, relaxing completely in his hold, reveling in the warmth he provided and how safe you felt being back in his arms.

Bucky pressed a hesitant kiss to your flushed cheeks, pulling you just the slightest bit harder against his chest, fingers pushing deeper into the tensed muscle beneath his palm.

Just as you opened your mouth to tell him how good that felt and thank him once again, there was a ruckus and numerous distressed voices behind you.

Bucky jolted up from the couch, reluctantly placing you down, and making sure you were steady on your feet before heading in the direction of the front door with you hot on his heels.

You hadn’t been paying attention, mind too caught in a faraway place, wishing desperately you were snuggled up in his arms, that you didn’t notice Bucky come to an abrupt halt in the threshold between the lounge and the front foyer, causing you to bump harshly into his broad back.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

The coldness and threatening tone of his voice caused you to take pause, goosebumps pimpling across your skin as your rapidly beating heart plummeted full force into your gut, nearly knocking the wind right out of you.

Your hands instinctively came up to grip Bucky’s shoulders as he shifted a half step back until you were pressed tightly—protectively against his tensed back, his own hands reaching back to hold you firmly by the waist.

You rose to the tip of your toes, fingernails digging into Bucky’s biceps, using him to steady yourself as you peaked over the right side of his shoulder.

The breath caught in your throat, and you nearly choked on your own spit when you caught sight of a familiar face being pinned to the door by a very serious—threatening looking Steve.

“Aiden?”

—————

Tag list

@scxrletrecsmarvel @cjand10 @sarahrstephan @ladifreakingda @vicmc624 @hazeljean2 @capmanranger @gitasor @intothesoul @silentkiller2374 @justsebstan @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @mini-kunoichi @jessyballet @coffeebooksandfandom @sergntbarnes @glitterydeputyshepherdwagon @stumbleonmywords @whore-for-bucky

@one-shot-plus-size @hawsx3 @justifymyfeelings @fanfictionjunkie1112 @im-here-sometimes @meisspookycrayon @littlebunbun876 @themorningsunshine @arcanebabe @winterwhore @austynparksandpizza @babebr @white-wolf1940

[companionjones]

Marvel Masterlist

*Agent Phil Coulson*

Best of the Best ~ ☁️Coulson becoming like a father to you and being extremely protective of you.

HYDRA VS. SHIELD Battle #??? ~ 📬☁️hiya! could i request something (headcannon, one shot whatever you feel like writing really) with coulson? sth about the reader being captured by hydre even though she knew nothing about it or shield or anything (maybe shes from europe? and not involved with this just a regular student or sth) and getting saved by the agents and being real sassy and stuff and coulson somehow finding it cute hope thats not too specific! love you!

Late Start, Great Discussion ~ 📬☁️im having a bad day and i was wondering if you could write something about coulson helping? im not feeling good in my body (i gained a lot of weight bc of my antidepressants). hope this isnt too annoying

*Bucky Barnes*

15 Minutes ~ ☁️A morning at the Avengers Compound.

BOOM. ~ ☔️Because of your powers, you keep to yourself around the team. Can one of the Avengers get you to open up?

But He’s Married ~ 📚You meet a guy at a party. *Warning! Spoiler!* Abusive relationship.

Company for the Lonely ~ ☁️You’re house sitting for your aunt when you start to feel a little lonely.

Completely ~ ☁️Bucky always doing whatever to protect you.

Extra ~ 🔥Bucky just wants to love you a little extra this morning.

His Past ~ ☔️You watch a movie with Bucky, but you can tell that he's holding something back from you.

*Doctor Strange*

Same ~ 📚Doctor Strange x Reader x BBC!Sherlock Holmes. This is an ongoing story. Two more chapters to be posted. Through the many dimensions Dr. Strange showed you, you meant Sherlock Holmes. Over time you grew very close to the two men. Because of your powers, you get tired very easily, and have to go into frequent comas. Both men come to check on you during one of your stays in a hospital.

*Guardians of the Galaxy*

Pirates ~ This probably takes place pretty soon after Gotg 1.

*Loki*

A Story From The Avengers’ Tower ~ ☁️I decided to write a fic based on the era of Tumblr right after the first Avengers movie came out. If you’re familiar with Avengers fics during that time, you’ll hopefully recognize some similarities to them. Feel free to comment as many as you catch. Enjoy.

The Onslaught of the Sister ~ 📬☁️Loki s/o is very innocent and shy and almost defenseless. She's also very dainty. Also she has a older sister who's very protective over her.

You Finally Tell Loki ~ 📬☔️Loki and s/o have just started dating, or have for a while now. She thought it was about time to tell him about her bad childhood and to show him her thigh s-h scars. She's really worried it will ruin the relationship. Ends up with hugs after

*Matthew Murdock/Daredevil*

Beautiful ~ ☔️A story about your relationship with Matt and what happens when you are taken from him.

Peace ~ ☁️Matt comes home one night. You're there to greet him.

*Miguel O’Hara (Across the Spider-Verse)*

His Home ~ 🔥Miguel has some morning sex with you before he must go back home.

*Peter Quill/Star Lord*

The Worst Chris/The Best Peter ~ ☁️This is sorta my response, sorta just a message to myself about the whole Chris Pratt situation. In this, you and Quill talk about everything I know about the situation, and he reacts accordingly. Let me know if I leave anything out or get anything wrong. I probably just didn’t know.

*Tony Stark/Iron Man*

Designated Crying Space ~ ☔️The only way you’re able to keep things together on the daily is to sneak into the lab by yourself every once in a while to cry your eyes out without anybody knowing. Somebody knows.

Fuck The Odds ~ ☔️Tony broke up with you. Why did he break into your apartment in the middle of the night?

*Young!Charles Xavier (X-Men)*

Goat Legs ~ ☔️You have the power to see other universes. Sadly, that power controls you.

[harryspet]

pinky promise | p.parker, b.barnes & s.rogers

[Warnings] little!peter x little!reader, stucky x reader, stucky x peter, ddlg, ddlb, polyamory, fingering, vaginal sex, sex in little space, age regression, millionaire!stucky, hints of breeding kink

A/N: she’s finally here :)  i intended for this to have more stucky but it just didn’t work out lol 

In which Peter and you play Mommy and Daddy. 

taglist: @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckybarney @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish  @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mandiiblanche @nsfwsebbie​@yanderepeterparker @ttqueen05 @belleknows​ @write-from-the-heart​ @sad-ed-noise​ @quaksonhehe​

main masterlist

word count: 2.6k

“Pick out which one you want, baby,” Bucky whispered before walking past the little curtain, talking into his cellphone as he listened in on an important phone call. You went back and forth trying on the same skirt, one white and the other a light pink. You were starting to get a bit frustrated, knowing that you preferred when Steve just chose for you. 

You huffed, deciding that you didn’t want to look at yourself in the dressing room mirror for any longer. You decided to put them back on their individual hangers and put your clothes on. That morning, Daddy had put you in one of your “big girl” dresses. It was still light blue with ruched sleeves but, paired with your white sneakers, you looked normal enough to walk around the mall. 

When you left the dressing room, Bucky was waiting for you. His face instantly fell when he saw your expression, “What’s wrong?” He grabbed your arm softly and when you turned your face away from him, he grabbed your chin, “Which skirt did you pick?”

“I didn’t like them,” You spoke softly, your eyes slowly rising up to meet his.

“But you looked beautiful in them,” You gave him a shy look and his lips began to tug into a grin. He reached up to brush a piece of your hair behind your ear. 

“I can’t decide,” You told him, “I don’t need them anyways …”

“Nonsense. If you can’t choose, then my princess must have both. How else are you supposed to turn heads and make a good impression on the first day of classes?” Bucky easily dismissed the idea, “We’ll have a fashion show tonight and the boys can help you pick.”

You should’ve known that money would be no object to him. It was never to Steve but it seemed Bucky liked to spoil you especially. No wonder Peter was so spoiled. 

“Thank you, Papa,” As he heard your voice, the raise in pitch and the pouting lips, he knew what you needed. He kissed your forehead softly. 

“Awe, my baby doesn’t want to be a big girl anymore. Let’s get you home then, princess.”

It was true. Your date today was very nice and you loved the bond you were building with Bucky but you wanted desperately to wind down in little space. After a long day of college classes, your favorite thing was coming home to Steve but now you got to come home to three people who wanted to baby you. 

From the moment, Bucky buckled your seatbelt for you, you were already beginning to slip. He held your hand the entire ride and as the two of you walked into the luxurious brownstone in Brooklyn that you called home. 

You were quite ready to run into Steve’s arms but the first thing you saw was Steve’s arms wrapped around Peter. The younger boy was sitting in his lap, playing a video game, his eyes focused on the flat screen illuminating the living room. 

When Steve saw you, he smiled of course, but you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. Steve was Peter’s Daddy as well but, in your moment of wanting to regress, you couldn’t help but want Steve’s full attention.  

“Hi, Papa!” Peter shouted, his eyes not leaving the Mario Kart game. He was dressed in his PJ’s, the footie ones that had all the little Darth Vader’s printed on them. 

“How was your trip? Successful, I hope,” Steve asked. 

Bucky seemed to notice your mood had a fell and that's when you felt his hand on your waist. He lifted you easily, setting you on his hip, all while holding your shopping bags. You were very grateful, resting your head on his shoulder, “Very successful but this one is in need of some tender love and care. I think we need a nice warm bath, don’t we?”

Bucky felt you nod and his lips pressed into a thin line. Steve flashed him a knowing look and Bucky gave him a look that said, “don’t worry, i got this”. The merging of your small family went much better than Steve had anticipated but you still had your moments. 

Bucky carried you upstairs into the room you shared with Peter. The walls weren’t painted white but the two sides of the room contrasted each other. Peter’s side was full of pastel blues and greens while yours was rainbow central. 

Bucky ran a bath for you and, much to your enjoyment, he joined you inside. You felt completely relaxed as he ran a wash cloth along your skin, soaping you up and massaging your skin gently. Your back against his front, Bucky could feel you slowly relaxing. 

“You know, both Daddy and Papa love you very much,” Bucky spoke into your ear, his hand dropping between your legs, slowly spreading them. 

“Mhm,” You agreed, shivers running through you despite the warm water. 

“And Peter does too …” As his fingers spread your folds, his strong hands began to rub in a circular motion.

“I know, Papa,” His pace was still gentle, every circle he made teased your sensitive bulb, and you found your hips starting to grind against his fingers. Your eyes closed as you tried to focus on the sensation. 

“That’s why I think that this weekend … you and Peter should spend some time together, while Daddy and Papa are away on business.”

Your eyes opened at that, surprise evident on your face, “Without Papa and Daddy? But we’re too little-” A small moan escaped your lips as he paid special attention to your special area. You slowly closed your eyes again. 

“Your big brother will take care of you, whatever you need, princess,” Bucky spoke softly, his fingers working methodically against your clit.

All you could do was nod, agreeing with whatever Bucky had said. You were too focused on your incoming orgasm to disagree. When you finally did release, Bucky didn’t let you go, he kept going until you were trying to pull away from his body. He wrapped his other arm around your torso, pulling you back, as he made you ride out your orgasm.

“Good girl,” He groaned into your ear, “What do you say?”

“T-Thank you, Papa,” You panted and he began to kiss the skin on your shoulder. 

+

You were still deep into little space when you awoke the next morning. After a tearful goodbye to Steve and Bucky, you decided that you’d play dress up in order to cheer yourself up. Peter explained to you that he was going to be a “big boy” and make the two of you food for your tea party. A tea party that he invited himself to after complaining that his own stuffed bear was invited before him. 

You’d chosen a cowgirl hat to go with your flouncy pink dress and set the living room up to be your venue. The coffee table was fully decorated and pillows surrounded the table for all your guests to sit. 

“Petey!” You called to the kitchen just as he entered with a plate. You told him he had to dress up if he was to join you but he refused to put on one of your dresses. Instead, you had to settle for him wearing a red cape and a crown. 

He set it out in the middle of the table, proudly smiling as he exclaimed, “Ta-da!”

You took one look and pouted, “You burnt it,” There were about ten slices of burnt toast with butter, “And where are the finger sandwiches? Cinnamon scones?”

Peter gave you a confused look as he took a seat on the pillow beside you. He was already grabbing a piece of toast and stuffing his mouth, “The toast is pretty good,” Was the great response you received. You shook your head, deciding to just pour the tea for everyone. 

“Here’s tea for you Buttons, Sassy Cat, Miss Sprinkles, Sir Horse  …. and for you Mr. Parker,” You poured his tea carefully and you smiled, noting how impressed he seemed by the simple act. You set down the pot and grabbed your own cup, “And make sure you sip it like this, with your pinky out, because we’re sophisticated.”

“I thought you were a cowgirl,” Peter chuckled a bit as you watched him try to sip his tea carefully. 

“A cowgirl princess,” You corrected him with the utmost seriousness, “I’m still sophisticated.”

“My apologies, your majesty,” He bowed his head slightly and you felt your cheeks heat up.

Your day had started with burnt toast but you had a feeling Peter was going to make it a fun day. 

+

Hours later, the living room was now shifted into a small fortress made of blankets and chairs. Toy Story was playing on the TV while you and Peter paid attention to your separate coloring books. Your most relaxing pastime was having your paci, letting it soothe you, while you colored. You stayed inside the lines unlike Peter and he’d constantly tear out his pages before starting again. 

The two of you had changed out of your costumes from early, having done a million activities since tea this morning. You were down your panties, a rainbow t-shirt, and fuzzy pink socks. You were flipping the page in your book when you felt Peter’s foot graze the bottom of yours. You didn’t think much of it, even starting to find the feeling soothing after a while. 

When you turned your head towards him, you found him watching you, “I’m bored,” He spoke suddenly, “Let’s play a video game.”

You only shook your head, turning back to your drawing, and you heard him let out a frustrated huff of air. The stroking of your foot soon turned into a tapping. Despite your attempt to ignore him, he began to inch closer to you. When you turned your head again, his face was only inches from yours and you were looking into his brown eyes, “We can play pretend some more,” That made you perk up and, despite being in the middle of drawing a castle, you set down your crayon. 

You gave him a curious look which caused him to smile, “We could play Mommy and Daddy,” As your eyebrows raised in confusion, he continued, “Well I’d be the Daddy and you’d be the Mommy of course. Don’t you know how to play?”

You slowly shook your head and Peter leaned in. You were frozen for a moment as he kissed your pacifier. You felt your cheeks heat us as he gently removed it from your mouth then pressed his soft lips against yours. You’d never shared a kiss with him while the two of you were alone and, for a moment, it felt forbidden, “We have to ask permission…”

Peter could see your enjoyment as clear as day, “But we’re just pretending. Mommies and Daddies kiss all the time,” You nodded, understanding though you still felt a bit nervous. 

“I like your kisses, Petey,” You said and you watched his face turn red. He leaned in again and you were grateful for his touch, how he moved your lips against yours, and how his tongue began to explore your mouth. You turned on your side and you felt his hands roam over your backside. 

He dipped his fingers into your panties, causing you to cry out, “Shush, we have to be quiet. We can’t wake up the baby,” He whispered to you and you instantly nodded, enjoying the sensation, “You’re soaked, Y/N.”

You could feel his member growing hard against your thigh, still confined to his underwear. You reached out to touch it and you watched him shudder at your touch, “Geez…” He groaned, “Do you want to make another baby?” Something seemed to shift in his eyes and suddenly he was more eager than before. 

“Yes,” You nodded, playing along to whatever scenario he was making up along the way, “I love being a Mommy.”

Peter couldn’t wait much longer and you let him climb on top of you as you quickly pulled down your panties. He didn’t waste time with his own underwear, pulling out his hard cock, and pressing against your warm heat. You felt his tip rub against your clit and then up and down your folds. 

You held onto the sides of his torso, gripping his striped shirt tightly as he began to sink inside of you, “Y-You’re so tight, honey,” he began to rock back and forth, looking into your eyes as he hovered over you. He gripped the pillows beneath you tightly, the motion in his hips causing your body to convulse beneath him. 

“Peter, peter, peter,” You breathed, biting down on your lip. His head dipped down, kissing your lips again and, distracted, you didn’t notice that his hand moved between your thighs. He fucked you while his hand stroked your sensitive bulb, knowing that would send you over your edge. As you tightened around him, you brought him to his climax. 

As he collapsed against you, catching his breath, you welcomed his embrace. 

“You can’t tell Papa or Daddy,” He told you, hugging you tight.

You only held out your pinky and he wrapped his around yours. 

You wouldn’t tell but you imagined the grand punishment that would ultimately lead to you cumming until you passed out. 

+

“Petey … petey,” You tapped the sleeping boy’s nose until you finally startled him awake. He was quite cute when he slept, holding tight to his teddy bear while he was tucked into his baby blue sheets. Peter pouted as soon as he opened his eyes, seeing you hovering over his face, book in hand, “I can’t sleep.”

He attempted to close his eyes again, “Count your sheep, Y/N,” He mumbled as he turned his head away from you. 

You bounced on top of him, your legs straddling him, and he awoke again, “I counted all the sheep! Like five trillion-million of them,” As your voice raised, he pressed his pointer finger to his lips. He sat up on his elbows, giving you a frustrated look. 

“Shush, you don’t wanna get in trouble, do you?” You instantly shook your head, obeying his warning to calm down. Peter eyes the book in your hand, “Why can’t you read it to yourself?”

“I like the way you read,” You spoke earnestly, “And you can say all the big words.”

You knew that would work, stroking his ego. Peter loved it when everyone treated him like a big boy. He thought for only a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips and suddenly his tiredness was gone.

“C’mon, get under,” He motioned for you to move and, excitedly, you climbed under the covers with him. The twin-sized bed fit you two comfortably and you liked cuddling more than anything. As Peter pulled the covers over you, he whipped out the flashlight he kept underneath his pillow.

You rested your head against his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso, as you listened to him, “Don’ you worry, Harry. You’ll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you’ll be just fine. Just be yerself. I know it’s hard. Yeh’ve been singled out, an’ that’s always hard. But yeh’ll have a great time at Hogwarts — I did — still do, ’smatter of fact.”

The accents he used always made you giggle. Peter was quite the story teller but that didn’t keep you from drifting off a few minutes later. Peter kept reading, entranced by the novel, but stopped when he heard your soft snores. He turned off the light and let the book fall against his stomach. 

“G’night, Y/N.”

[alisonsfics]

sweater thief

pairing: stucky x reader

request: “hi!! i really love all your marvel pieces and was hoping to request one. could you write a steve x bucky x reader (doesn't have to be stucky x reader if you aren't comfortable). so basically the reader has been stealing their sweaters but steve and bucky don't know yet. and one day they come home from a mission to see her in their sweater and are a little shocked cz she always played innocent when they asked her. And somewhere in their little argument reader goes " let's be honest these look much better on me then on you" and basically just a ton of fluff and maybe a little sassiness from reader ❤️” @spookyparadisesheep

word count: 1k

You looked down at your watch, anxiously. The team was supposed to be back from the mission fifteen minutes ago. Where were they? You had to stay back at the compound because you got hurt on the last mission you went on.

Until you were fully healed, you had to stay at home and miss the missions. It’s not like you missed almost dying. It was nice to not be in fear for your life, but you were ten times more anxious.

If you were on a mission, you knew you would do everything in your power to keep everyone safe. If you weren’t there, you couldn’t keep them safe.

Especially Steve and Bucky.

Your boyfriends.

You were normally pretty stubborn and sassy, but your biggest fear was either of them getting hurt. It didn’t help that they were both strong men who were too proud to admit when they were hurt.

They tended to under-exaggerate their wounds on missions. They were too stubborn to accept help, except if it was from you. So, you worried they both would seriously get hurt.

Then, you heard people talking through the wall. You peeked your head out of the door of your bedroom, and saw some of the team. You locked eyes with Bucky, and he gave you a smile.

You ran across the room to him. He grabbed both of your sides and picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Hi, doll” he whispered.

“I’m so glad you’re okay” you said, burying your face in his neck. He rubbed circles on your back, comforting you.

“Someone’s excited” you heard someone say and it wasn’t Bucky. You picked your head up and saw Steve standing next to the both of you.

Your eyes lit up, with excitement. Bucky let you down, and Steve pulled you in a hug. “I’m so happy my two boys are back” you mumbled, smiling.

Steve slipped his arm around your shoulders and they both led you back to your bedroom.

You crawled onto your bed, and Steve sat down next to you. You saw Bucky standing at the end of your bed, just staring at you.

“What?” You asked, feeling shy all of a sudden. A smirk appeared on his face. Steve looked at Bucky with the same confusion that you had on your face.

“Is that my sweater, doll?” He asked you, cockily. You looked down at what you were wearing and realized it was. You hadn’t even noticed.

You had slowly been collecting both Bucky and Steve’s sweaters. Sometimes they would accidentally leave them in your room, so you kept them.

You liked to wear them when Steve and Bucky were away on missions. It helped you when you missed them, especially when you were scared and you wished they were there to comfort you.

You felt a sneaky smile appear on your face. You headed over to your closet and opened the doors, revealing a few of each of their sweaters.

“Where’d you get those, sweetheart?” Steve asked, raising his eyebrows. You shrugged innocently. “It’s not my fault you both leave them in my room. I only wear them when I miss you. You can have them back if you want” you said, not wanting to upset them.

Bucky instantly shook his head no, and stepped towards you. “Why didn’t you just ask?” He asked, his eyes gazing over how the sweater concealed your frame.

“Girls wear their boyfriend’s sweaters. It’s a thing, old man” you teased him. Steve chuckled as you tapped Bucky on the nose.

“I have to say, I kind of like it” Steve said, walking over to the two of you. His eyes raked over you too.

You balled the sleeves up in your fists as you waited for Bucky to say something. “Come on, Buck. You know that I look better in them anyway” you said, playfully sticking your tongue.

Bucky couldn’t hold back the laugh that escaped his lips. “You’ve got that right” he said, grabbing your hips and lightly kissing you. His soft lips grazed yours.

You felt another pair of lips attach to the side of your neck. Steve moved your hair out of the way as he placed light kisses behind your ear.

“He’s right. You look gorgeous” Steve whispered in your ear. Bucky pulled away from you. “I love you both so much” you said, smiling.

They both placed a kiss on your opposite cheeks. “You heard the girl. She said she missed us. We can’t have that, now can we?” Bucky asked, looking towards Steve. Steve quickly shook his head no.

“How about we watch those super cheesy romance movies you love so much and cuddle?” Steve proposed. Your eyes lit up with excitement. You quickly nodded your head, a massive grin emerging on your face.

They both chuckled when they saw how excited you got.

Steve grabbed your hand and led you over to your bed. He sat down next to you, and threw his arm around your shoulders. You leaned your head on his shoulder.

Bucky crawled up and sat between your legs, with his back to you. He laid down so his head was resting on your stomach. “Hi, you” you said, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Steve turned on your favorite movie and you all began to watch it. Without thinking, you found your fingers in Bucky’s hair. You ran your fingers through it, lightly tugging. Bucky hummed in response, content.

“I really like this sweater on you” Steve said, leaning over and whispering in your ear. You looked over and met his gaze. A small smile appearing on both of your faces.

“Me too” Bucky chimed in, clearly having heard what Steve said. You giggled, they both loved the melodic laughter coming from you. You gave them both a kiss on the cheek and then returned your attention to the movie that was still playing in the background.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @azghedaheda @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @sunwardsss @studentville-struggles @impossibleapricotlampbat @infjkiki @weirdfishy @lickmymelaninn @hailey-a-s @andreasworlsboring101 @glassesandthunderthighs @holding-on-to-my-youth @fanofalltheficsx @lukes-orange-beanie @golden-hoax @mostly-marvel-musings @v-is-obsessive @i-wish-i-knew-what-i-was @reniescarlett @abitofeverythinggg @alotofrandomfangirling @anotherspencerreidblog @ashwarren32

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

Requests OPEN

[winterhawksamplers]

Winterhawk Samplers: Kidfic

And then there were children. Clint blames the magic. Or possibly the former marriage. Alternatively, it was that shady alternate universe's fault. Regardless, suddenly, Clint and/or Bucky are responsible for tiny humans, and hey, dumpster fire tendencies aside, it doesn't always go so bad. Is it because Clint's canon backstory helps him know exactly what to avoid when raising a kid, or did Bucky help his ma with his sisters back in the forties? Or is it just that Clint's kind of eternally part child anyways? The verdict is still out.

Barnes, Barton, and Nine Brats by @intermittently-ava length: 10k | rating: T | tags: de-aged avengers, magic, feelings development, nightmares summary excerpt: During a massive battle, the Avengers are turned into small children. All except for Barton and Barnes who are delegated to caring for them while Pepper, Jane, and Bruce are trying to find a cure. In the midst of the chaos caused by crayons, wet tissues, and bed time stories, Bucky and Clint obliviously discover things about each other. Why this one? This fic utilizes the age-regression trope to help Bucky and Clint realize that each others' competence extends beyond the battlefield, and each others' compassion extends, perhaps, to each other. The author also manages to capture some really key, heart-string tugging characterizations in the tiny versions of the team.

Paternal Error (In Which Clint Keeps Picking Up Strays) by: EVVS length: 34k | rating: T | tags: barton farm, canon-adjacent, kid!Peter, teen!maximoffs, teen!kate, adopt all the strays, nightmares, recovery summary: Bucky has never once thought of being a parent. Not since the Winter Solider happened. Until he falls in love with Clint Barton. And that idiot just keeps collecting children for his flock. Now Bucky has to pretend like he's good at parenting. Why this one? This fic exemplifies another common trope in winterhawk: adopting all the strays. Both Clint and Bucky identify with being left behind, and are equally determined not to let that happen to these kids, no matter how difficult it is as C&B themselves cope with canon-typical trauma.

and when the cold wind's blowing by: @pantstomatch length: 7k | rating: T | tags: single dad!Bucky, werewolves, no powers au, snowed in, cabin fic summary: When he sees the wolf he thinks fuck it and thinks it’s probably a decent way for a moron like him to die. -or- Clint gets snowed in with Bucky and his daughter over Christmas. Why this one? This fic pairs a common kidfic theme -- single parents -- with two killer tropes most winterhawk folks can't refuse: werewolves AND cabin fic aka aw, stuck in a cabin together, no.

Complete State Circus by @winterhawkkisses length: 8.4k | rating: T | tags: guardian Bucky, gymnastics instructor Clint, mutism, ASL summary excerpt: "Hey," she says, with a painful looking grin. "Welcome to Hawkeyes' Circus Training. D'you guys need me to tell you about our available classes, or do you already have something in mind?" Why this one? This is a real heartstring tugger disguised in deceptively adorable circus-themed wrapping. This fic showcases a great-with-kids Clint and a Bucky who's doing everything he can to create the best environment possible for his child.

Outnumbered by: sara_holmes length: 18k | rating: T | tags: no powers!au, and they were neighbors, veteran!Bucky, single dad!Clint summary: Bucky Barnes returns to Brooklyn ready to get back into the world, make friends and sleep with Steve's super hot neighbor. The fact that the guy turns out to be a single dad to two-year-old triplets who spend most of their time causing mischief, trouble and mayhem doesn't deter Bucky at all. Steve would like it on record that he thinks Bucky is insane. Why this one? This fic has a sassy yet soft Bucky reclaiming his life post military service, and brings new life to the trope of 'chaotic but competent in the field' Clint -- it's just that the field here is wrangling three toddlers. It also has found family feels as other marvel characters round out the apartment community to support Clint.

The next six fics show different amazing interpretations of clint&bucky + kids, and are in descending order by length.

Choose Us Every Time by: @lissadiane length: 33k | rating: T | tags: canon-adjacent, farm fic, uncle clint, babysitter bucky, fake dating, kid characters with real agency and emotions Zephr in the Sky by: @ladyladylady1 length: 33k | rating: E | tags: single dad!Clint, hawkeye clint, no powers Bucky, college kid!Bucky, tarot, age difference, teenage barton kids Out On A Limb by flawedamythyst length: 27k | rating: T | tags: de-aged Clint Barton, past child abuse, vent Clint, protective Bucky Barnes A Thistle Cannot Grow by: ccbytheseashore length: 12k | rating: M | tags: single!dad Clint, canon-adjacent, getting together, hurt/comfort Whatever You Give Me by AWriting length: 6.6k | rating: M | tags: single dad! bucky, small town au, no powers au, veterans Make It Feel Like Home by patsys length: 2.6k | rating: G | tags: canonverse, multiple dimensions, magic, fluff.

A quick note that two subgenres of kidfic that aren't done proper justice on this list, but definitely round out the theme: Clint and Bucky standing in as 'best protective uncles ever' for other Avengers' kids, and accidental baby/child acquisition.

What are your favorite winterhawk kidfics? -- reblog or add in the comments for your fellow readers!

And find other themed winterhawk samplers here.

[jobean12-blog]

America’s Sled

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,079

Summary: You convince Tony to host a Christmas in July party then you get the best idea ever...Steve’s shield would make the perfect sled!

Author’s Note: This is for the @redhead-wine-and-literature-club Love in Bloom Challenge and day 29: Magnolia which means love of nature. So I included a magnolia tree in this as well as some outdoor fun in nature haha enjoy! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤ Divider by the lovely @imerdwarf

Warnings: funny, fun fluffy fluff :) 

THIS IS SPOILER FREE!

Thank you so much to @august-walker for this gif :) 

Imagine this is the look Bucky gives you when you tell him your amazing idea :D

Love in Bloom Masterlist

Bucky stands at the counter and listens to you and Tony chattering on about the Christmas in July party. Your hands are flying this way and that as you talked excitedly over the snow machines.

“We need tubes and sleds! And definitely the kind that are big enough for more than one person,” you tell Tony, while throwing Bucky a wide grin.

Tony relays all the information to Jarvis, giving you a high five before excusing himself to start the preparations. You rush over to Bucky and grab his shoulders.

“BUCK! BUCKKKKK! I have the greatest idea EVER!” you squeal.

He looks at you expectantly and you drop your voice to whisper. “We are so gonna steal Steve’s shield and go sledding!”

Bucky wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest. “Baby girl, we are not stealing Steve’s shield to use as a sled.”

“Yes we are,” you state plainly, sliding your arms around his neck and leaning up to kiss him.

“No, we are not,” he says against your lips.

His mouth silences any additional response but just as fingers graze the skin of your back you pull away.

“Yes. We. Are,” you whine.

“Steve’s gonna get mad doll face,” he warns.

You bat your eyelashes and hook your thumbs into his jeans. “Not at me, he’s not.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up but before he can respond you kiss him again.

The day of the party arrives and you walk outside to see the giant snow machines spewing out white fluff that now covers the large hill near the compound. It’s really starting to accumulate and you hop up and down, excited to try it out.

“It’s so weird to see all that snow but also see the grass and flowers,” Bucky says, coming up behind you. “And I’m pretty sure I saw an ice cream truck.”

“Yep. You did. That was my idea too! We have to have ice cream!” you say, as if it’s totally obvious.

“You’re so sassy today,” he tells you playfully. “I like it.”

“Good, because I need your help. Let’s go,” you say and pull him away.

When you get back inside you push him onto the couch and straddle his waist. His hands immediately settle at your waist and his eyes darken.

“Now listen. I need you to distract Steve for like ten minutes. You can do it any way you want, just make sure you have his full attention,” you say quietly.

“Why are we talking about Steve?” Bucky asks, looking disgruntled. “I thought we were about to do something fun.”

You giggle and push him back against the couch, leaning close to his ear and whispering, “I promise we can have all the fun you want if you just do me this favor.”

His grip on your waist tightens and he smirks. “I think that sounds fair.”

You hop off him and sneak away, waiting until the coast is clear. Once you see Bucky has Steve distracted you slip into Steve’s room and search around for the shield. It’s leaning against the wall in the far corner and you grab it then rush out.

By the time you meet Bucky back outside the party is underway and the snow machines have created a more than adequate sledding surface. You watch as Sam and Steve fly down on a large tube, crashing at the bottom and rolling into the grass.

When you finish laughing you shout, “OOOOO COME ON! Let’s go!” and grab Bucky’s arm.

Bucky looks at the sleds and tubes before asking you, “which one do you wanna try first?”

Your smile grows devious and you reach behind one of the snow machines, pulling out Steve’s shield.

“THIS ONE!!!” you screech.

Bucky’s eyes go wide and he shoots you a glare.

“I can’t believe I FORGOT ABOUT YOUR TERRIBLE IDEA!!! No wonder you wanted me to distract Steve!” he grumbles, dropping his head into his hand. “I’m so gonna pay for this!”

You give him a quick peck on the cheek and agree, “yep,” with the pop of the P.

Steve and Sam are making their way back up the hill and you shove the shield in Bucky’s arms.

“Hurry!” you tell him.

He narrows his eyes with a sigh and puts the shield down before placing his butt right in the center.

“This is not comfortable,” he complains, holding out his arms for you.

You sit in his lap, between his legs and tuck yours in with a squeal.

“Let’s do this!!!” you hoot.

He lifts his feet and pushes off with his metal hand, sending you flying down the hill at top speed. You pass Sam and Steve and you can hear Steve yelling something as you zoom by.

You’re nearing the bottom but not showing any signs of slowing down and you grip Bucky’s thighs while screaming.

Bucky’s metal arm shoots out and grabs at the snow, slowing you only a little as you approach the grassy bottom and a very large magnolia tree. You bury your face in Bucky’s chest and close your eyes, waiting for the impact.

With a loud thud you hit the trunk of the tree and roll off the shield, Bucky’s body covering yours.

“Are you ok baby girl?” he asks, hovering over you protectively.

You open your eyes and peek up at him, laughing when you see that he’s covered in magnolia leaves, most of them in his hair.

“THAT. WAS. AWESOME!” you shriek. “Let’s do it again!!!”

Bucky sits up and takes you with him, shaking his head but smiling wide.

“Come on! I’ll take ya again. Anyway, I like you sitting in my lap,” he simpers.

You giggle and hold his hand as you walk back up the hill.

Steve is standing at the top, his arms crossed over his chest and his jaw set in a hard line.

“Really Buck?” he asks. “The shield!?”

Bucky just huffs out a sigh and looks at you. You ignore him and glance at Steve.

“I tried to tell him it was a bad idea but…” you trail off, trying to hide your mischievous smile.

Steve holds out his hand and Bucky reluctantly hands over the shield.

“She wanted to go again pal,” Bucky tells Steve, giving you a squeeze.

Steve glares at you both before breaking out into a grin. “She can. After me,” he says, and walks over to the top of the hill.

@addikted-2-dopamine @book-dragon-13​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @eurynome827​ @hiddles-rose​ @jhangelface0523​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @jewels2876​ @loricameback​ @lorilane33​ @lookiamtrying​ @la-cey​ @lizette50​ @ironmansuucks​ @marvelgirl7​ @mardema​ @moonlacebeam​ @meetmeatyourworst​ @nano--raptor​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @randomfandompenguin​ @starlightcrystalline​ @white-wolf1940​ @loveitorleaveit20​ @nikkixostan​ @moonlitskinandcrimsonribbons​

[badassbuchanan]

Be Mine?

REQUEST: Could you write something where the reader has never had a valentines so bucky goes all out to celebrate valentines day with her? Like she just feels so loved at the end of it? Thank you💖

Warnings: smut; unprotected sex, fluff, hand job, pussy rubbing, romantic 

Word Count: 4884

A/N: I’m sorry, I tried but romance isn’t my strong suit - anyway, happy V day!

I tossed my hand carelessly through my freshly washed hair, trying to make it look somewhat decent as I made my way through the compound. “Meet me by the elevator at six.” That’s what Bucky’s text had said yesterday, and that was the first I’d heard from him since our conversation earlier in the week. 

“If you don’t get a better offer by valentines day, we should just do something together.” Bucky suggested as he absentmindedly scrunched up his nose. We’d been chatting over a pot of tea in the kitchen after listening to all of our friends’ special plans for the upcoming romantic holiday. “Otherwise we’ll be the only two in the compound without a date.”

“I don’t really do valentines dates.” I shrugged matter-of-factly, my heart sinking as I felt a soft blush of pink cover my cheeks. Dates in general had always been a touchy subject with me, but especially valentines day dates. I’d never had one. Ever. In my life. And it was embarrassing for me to admit. 

My comment didn’t get past the clever brain of the Winter Soldier, a soft frown of curiosity appearing on his chiseled face as he lifted his mug to his lips. “What do you mean, you don’t do valentines dates?” He emphasised the word ‘do’, blowing gently on the hot beverage before taking a sip. 

His eyes were fixed on me, patiently awaiting my response as I felt my heartbeat speed up. “I just don’t.” I shrugged innocently under his stare, noticing the little frown lines which appeared on his forehead as he processed my answer. 

“You think Y/N’s ever met a guy good enough to take her out on the most romantic day of the year?” Sam’s voice immediately had Bucky’s eyes rolling, turning his head to the side to watch the chuckling avenger stroll into the room. “You’re dreaming, cyborg. Even I wouldn’t try.” 

“It’s not that!” I jumped to my own defence, not wanting Bucky to think that was the reason I’d turned him down, because it wasn’t. Bucky and I had been great friends ever since he’d arrived from Wakanda, we felt somewhat connected by the commonality of the enjoyable silence and peacefulness of being alone. Something which people like Sam would never understand. “I’ve just never had a date for valentines.”

Bucky was a selfless guy and I knew he’d only offered to spend his valentines day with me out of kindness. He was an extremely handsome super soldier with a charming personality and a heart of gold. He’d be able to get a valentines date with a beautiful girl with a blink of his eye. 

“I guess I’ve never really felt strongly enough about anyone in that way.” I elaborated vaguely, looking between Bucky who was giving Sam a fed up look and Sam, who had grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and was happily leaving the room with a chuckle, knowing he’d done his job of winding Bucky up.

“It doesn't have to be a date.” Bucky pressed his lips together in a small smile, his voice softening as he looked over at me, his steel blue eyes shining bright. “We can just hang out like we usually do.” 

I smiled over at him sweetly, thankful for his understanding nature. “Okay, sounds good.” I let out a soft chuckle as his smile widened at my answer, taking another sip of his drink as his heart skipped a beat. 

I arrived at the meeting point right on time, deciding to wear a pair of distressed denim shorts with a floral top tucked into them after much deliberation. I was nervous. I didn’t know why, I’d hung out with Bucky hundreds of times before. But it was this damn day putting so much pressure on something as simple as two friends hanging out. 

The compound was particularly quiet where the rest of the team had already left for their dates. The silence only made the loud beating of my heart more evident. Bucky still hadn’t shown up. He’d probably found himself a proper date for tonight and forgot to tell me. 

“Hey F.R.I.D.A.Y, has Bucky left the compound recently?” I asked softly, fiddling with my hair as I prepared for a lonely night of movies. 

“No, Miss Y/N. Sergeant Barnes is currently in the south living room.” The AI answered immediately, the response surprisingly me as I raised my eyebrows. The south living room was an extravagantly decorated room of the compound, hardly ever used other than for special occasions and honourable guest visits. 

“Thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.” I spoke as I pressed the button for the elevator, my nerves calming a little as I tried to guess Bucky’s reasoning for being in that particular room. I stepped in the elevator, feeling the metal contraption move between floors. So maybe he hadn’t blown off our date - correction, ‘hang out’. Maybe he’d just forgotten where he’d arranged to meet me.

I stepped out of the elevator and wandered down the darkness of the hall, only illuminated by the soft light coming from the living area. I dragged my fingers along the cream coloured wall absentmindedly, the quiet sound of a song playing made me tilt my head questioningly. “Bucky!” I called out as I neared the entrance to where the AI had informed me of Bucky’s whereabouts. 

My breath got caught in my lungs as I turned into the doorway, my body completely still as I widened my eyes in shock.

“Bucky, what’s all this?” I whispered softly, my heartbeat speeding up as I looked in at the busy super soldier standing in front of me. 

“Crap, is it six already?” Bucky mumbled to himself as he rushed to light the candle in his hand, placing it carefully on the coffee table. He looked up at me with an innocent smile as he shoved the lighter into his back pocket.

He was standing near the roaring fireplace, the floor almost fully engulfed in rose petals. He’d strategically placed candles and flowers on the mantlepiece and the coffee table, a rug thrown down of the floor with pillows and a bottle of champagne ready for us to indulge. 

“Y/N, please don’t be mad.” Bucky begged as he saw the stunned look on my face. I tried to process what was going on, why he’d put all this effort in, but instead, I just stood there speechless. “I know you said you didn't want this to be a date but I just-”  “Bucky, it’s beautiful.” I spoke with eyes full of tears, my hands shaking slightly as I stepped further into the room. I’d only ever seen such a romantic gesture in movies, I’d never in a million years expected that one day it would happen to me. 

Bucky watched intensely as I walked towards him, his eyes softening into a smile as he realised I wasn’t upset with him. He sighed out in relief, holding his hand out to tug me close to him as I continued to admire the gorgeous set up he’d put together.

“You said you’d never had a date for valentines day,” He spoke deeply, shaking his leg nervously as his eyes stayed glued on me. His hand kept hold of mine as I looked up at him, attentively listening to his words. “Well neither have I.”

“Are you telling me that Sergeant James Buchnanan Barnes, even back in the roaring forties, never had a valentine?” I gasped in a playful tone, although I truthfully was surprised to hear his confession. Bucky was a catch, I would’ve thought he’d have been spoilt for choice back in his youth.

He rolled his eyes with a chuckle, reciprocating my gaze as his fingers absentmindedly massaged my palm. “Well at least I didn’t say I’d never had a date because I’d never found anyone good enough!” He raised his eyebrows accusingly, his lips falling into a sassy pout. 

“That was Wilson!” I reminded Bucky with a tilt of my head, a small smile playing on my lips as his gorgeous eyes bored into mine. I felt myself get carried away in the moment, tugging him slightly closer as I admired him.

“I made us some chocolate covered strawberries.” He mumbled shyly, a proud smile on his face as his eyes flickered down to my lips absentmindedly. 

“You really thought of everything, didn’t you?” I sighed out contently, walking passed him to sit down on the rug. I crossed my legs and looked up at Bucky who followed my lead, sitting down on the soft material next to me. 

I watched carefully as he leaned over to grab the flute glasses in his metal hand, his other grabbing the bottle which he sat between his thick thighs. Bucky’s arms tensed as he pulled the cork out with a pop, the soft music still playing in the background filled the silence. 

My heart fluttered as I gazed over admiringly, my fingers fiddling nervously with the blanket beneath us. Bucky’s brows furrowed as he focused on pouring the liquid into the glasses without it spilling over the top. 

I smiled maybe a little too widely, catching Bucky’s attention as he looked over at me innocently. “What?” He chuckled with a charming smile, placing the bottle down carefully away from where we sat. 

“Nothing,” I smiled back at him, too lost in the bliss of the moment to stop and think things through. I could feel myself falling for him, fast. The vulnerability of it worried me, but Bucky made feel safe. “You just get these cute little lines here when you frown.” I spoke sweetly, lifting my hand to touch between his brows delicately. 

Bucky smiled as he watched me, entertained by the mesmerised look on my face. “I think you’re the only person in the world that thinks frown lines are cute.” He chuckled softly, leaning over to hand me a glass of champagne. 

“I don't think frown lines in general are cute.” I corrected him, rolling my eyes with a cock of my eyebrow, our fingers brushing slightly as I took the glass from his hand. 

“Oh, so you just think they’re cute on me?” He smirked teasingly, watching my face blush pink as he caught me out. He lifted his glass to his lips, sitting closer to me now from where he’d handed me the glass of champagne. 

“Gosh, you really love making me blush, don’t you Barnes?” I sighed with a shy smile, sipping the fizzy alcohol as I watched Bucky’s smile widen. His eyes travelled up and down my body as I shuffled to sit with my legs sideways, leaning on my hand which moved me closer to him. 

“Hey, can I tell you a secret?” Bucky’s voice dropped to a serious tone as his heart started beating a little harder. I detected a slight hesitation from him as he coughed shyly, his eyes glued on mine. 

“Mmh hmm.” I nodded sweetly, my eyes softening as I tilted my head to the side, my finger circling around the rim of the glass as I anticipated his confession. 

“When I originally suggested we do something for valentines,” He looked down at his lap nervously, a small smile of his lips as he thought carefully about his words. “I wanted to ask you, you know, not just because we were going to be the only two people without a date.” 

Butterflies fluttered in my tummy as I shyly looked down into my lap, trying to hide the smile that had appeared on my face. “What was the real reason?” I asked curiously, my voice softening to match his. 

“Well, because I think you’re the greatest girl in the whole world.” He answered deeply, his eyes flicking up to my face just for a moment as he smiled at how happy I looked. “You’re beautiful, smart, generous, accepting, funny.” 

“Is this just another way of you getting me to blush again?” I cut him off, teasing him accusingly with a raise of my eyebrows. It broke the tension, Bucky scoffing softly as he took another sip of champagne. 

“No, that time was an accident.” His ocean blue eyes caught mine as he responded, both of our hearts beating a little faster than usual at the new depths of our relationship we were exploring. 

“You could’ve asked me, you know.” I spoke as I watched Bucky lean over to grab the chocolate covered strawberries he’d made from the table. He looked back at me as the plate lifted into his hand, waiting for me to clarify. “On a date. I would’ve said yes.”

“You would have?” Bucky’s eyes softened as he sat back down, strategically sitting so close that our arms brushed together. He offered me a strawberry after throwing one into his mouth, placing the plate and our champagne flutes safely on the marble base of the fireplace.

“Of course,” I nodded quickly as I ate the chocolate covered fruit, catching any of the excess juice with my tongue. “Bucky, you’re the most loving, kind, handsome, brave, loyal guy I’ve ever met.” 

Bucky held his breath as he listened to me speak, the both of us feeling so loved in a world of so much pain. “You’re not scared of me?” His voice cracked slightly as he furrowed his brows into a frown.

I confirmed my answer with a shake of my head, my heart aching a little at the thought of him worrying about people being scared of him. 

“I could never be scared of you.” I admitted softly as an intense moment started to build between us, which neither of us were able to control.

I felt the tension between us boil over, noticing Bucky’s eyes dropp to my lips as I instinctively leaned closer to him. I let my hot breath linger on him for a moment before I pressed our lips together. 

Bucky’s metal hand immediately rose to cup my cheek, keeping me close as he kissed me back, the taste of strawberries on our lips. I felt butterflies in my tummy as his stubble scratched against my skin, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. 

I sighed out in satisfaction of his mouth on me, his kisses sweet and gentle as I pressed my palm flat against his solid chest. I felt his pecs move with the rhythm of his breathing, my cheeks flushing a light shade of pink as I felt myself wanting more from him.

He was touching me with such delicacy, as if he was scared he would break me. I shuffled forward as Bucky breathed into the kiss, his hand snaking around to grab the back of my head. He pulled me against his lips harder as my hand slid up to hold the side of his neck.

I parted my lips encouragingly, mimicking his action by tugging him closer by my hand on his neck. Bucky grunted softly into the kiss which was becoming needier with every second. 

I whimpered into the kiss, our heads tilting as our lips collided. My palm held onto his strong jaw, his stubble scratching my hand as his metal fingers ran down the side of my body.

I sat up a little straighter which leaned me further into Bucky, the palm of his hand supporting me at my waist. I hummed contently between kisses, Bucky’s eyes falling to where my lips were moving to connect to his again.

I gave him a sultry look as I pulled back from his mouth teasingly, lightly tugging on the thin material of the white t-shirt he wore. Bucky immediately took the hint, removing his hands from me as he pulled the top over his head.

He shook his hair back into place as he threw the shirt carelessly next to him. I couldn’t help but stare at his body in amazement, running my fingers up to where his metal arm fused to his flesh.

Bucky’s lips pressed back onto mine, a small whimper escaping my lips as his tongue pushed its way into my mouth. I felt my wetness seap down onto my cotton panties, sliding my thigh to rest on top of his as he let his hand quickly move over my ass to grab the back of my thigh.

Bucky grunted softly as he tugged on my bare leg, the silky flesh under his metal palm had his cock stirring in his pants. I took the hint, shifting myself to sit straddling the super soldier’s lap.

It was as though all of our built up emotion had exploded in a moment, our touches getting riskier as we roamed each other’s bodies. I let Bucky’s bottom lip sit between mine, sucking on it slowly as his tongue ran over my top lip.

“Is this okay?” Bucky whispered against my lips, our chests heaving as I nodded in response. I closed my eyes when I felt Bucky’s lips travelling across my cheek, leaving little pecks in their path. 

I massaged the back of his head, my fingers dug deep in his long hair. I let out a shaky breath as Bucky’s lips reached my jaw, his tongue wetting my skin with his open mouthed kisses. 

I tilted my head to the side, granting him more access as my other hand clung to his strong bicep. His metal hand held the back of my neck, supporting me as my body gave in to the pleasure. His flesh hand tugged the hem of my top out of the shorts before letting his palm slide underneath the material.

Bucky groaned against my neck as his hand came into contact with my lacy bra, his kisses getting sloppier as they reached my collarbone. “Tell me to stop.” He huffed out as he tried to control himself, not wanting me to feel pressured into anything.

I shook my head softly as I turned my head to look at him through half closed eyes, overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and love I felt. “I don’t want you to stop.” I whispered vulnerably, Bucky’s head lifting to look at me with his gorgeous blue eyes.

He leaned in to press his lips back against mine, a whimper escaping my lips as I rolled my hips down onto his. A groan erupted in his throat, his hand travelling back down my body as he gripped the material of my top in his hand.

I leaned back momentarily, balancing myself with my palms on his bare chest as I helped him lift my shirt off of my body.

Bucky panted as he took in my semi-naked body, his hands rubbing the start of my hips needily as he watched me let my top drop on the floor. I leaned my hands back behind my body, making quick work of undoing my bra to let my boobs bounce freely.

I could feel his hardened bulge pressing against the inside of my thigh, his eyes fixated on my tits as he moved his lips onto my chest. I whimpered softly as his hot mouth left wet kisses on my breasts, his tongue flicking over my hardened nipples. 

Bucky’s hands hugged my body tightly, pulling me as close as he could as he sucked on my tits. I ran my hand through his soft hair, biting my lip as I closed my eyes in ecstasy.

Bucky’s metal palm slid down to my exposed lower back, holding me against him as he flipped us over. My back gently hit the blanket, Bucky’s large frame hovering above me as he moved his lips back up for another kiss.

My hands slid down his toned chest, over the chiseled abs of his stomach until I reached the button of his jeans. I tugged the waistband away from his skin gently, a little huff escaping his lips as I did so.

I broke the kiss to focus on what I was doing, Bucky’s head dropping into my neck as I popped open the button of his jeans. My head flew back, little moans escaping my lips as Bucky nipped at the base of my throat softly. 

My fingers pulled open his zipper, my pussy clenching as I slid my hand into his underwear. My touch was greeted by his hard cock, heavy in my hand. Bucky huffed out softly, his eyes closing as I felt my way down to his balls. 

I gasped softly at how big he felt, his lips kissing a strip up up the front of my throat and chin. His lips reconnected with mine as I circled his swollen tip with my thumb, smearing the leaking pre-cum. 

I lubricated my hand as much as I could with his juices before wrapping my fingers around his shaft. I tugged on his member gently, feeling his whole body tense at the foreign feeling. I hummed into the kiss, my pussy aching with need as I imagined how he’d feel inside me.

Bucky moaned as my hand jerked him off, his hips bucking to meet my touch as he hovered above me. He kissed me with so much force that my head pressed hard against the floor, softened slightly by the blanket. 

I felt his cock twitch in my hand, his hips jolting forward as he tried to control himself. Bucky lifted his flesh hand from the floor and moved it down between our bodies, his fingers tracing down my bare skin. 

His eyes immediately dropped to look between our legs, he licked his lips as his fingers came into contact with my shorts. Bucky’s jaw clenched as I squeezed his cock tighter, keeping my eyes trained on his gorgeous face.

Bucky skilfully flicked open the button on my jeans, his lips dropping to kiss me as he snaked his hand beneath the material of my panties. I gasped as he cupped my mound, my wetness leaking down onto his palm. 

My fingers dropped from around his cock, clinging to his bicep as he rubbed my pussy. My hips bucked up to meet his touch, needier than ever for his attention. I moaned into the kiss, my tongue flicking his as I arched my back off of the floor, feeling Bucky sit back from where I was. 

I looked up at him innocently, all baffled and horny as I watched him hook his fingers into the waistband of my shorts. In one swift motion, but slid my shorts and panties down to my knees. I wiggled my legs, helping him get them off the rest of the way as he sat back on his knees. 

“So beautiful.” Bucky mumbled as he looked down at my naked body, his cock standing proudly against his stomach. I bit my lip shyly a I sat up, my arousal dripping down onto the rug. 

Bucky crawled closer to me, his flesh hand running up my bare thigh as his cock throbbed desperately for attention. I breathed shakily, my arms wrapping around his neck as he pushes the last of his clothing down his thick thighs before kicking them behind him. 

He hovered over my body as I laid back down, now being cradled by the pillows he’d decorated the floor with. I could feel his big member against my thigh, trying to nudge its way into my warmth. I whimpered needily, bending my knees and pressing the heels of my feet against the blanket.

“Just let me know if this gets too mu-“ Bucky cut himself off with a moan, his nose crinkling in pleasure as he felt my hand wrap around his cock again.

I guided him to my entrance, encouragingly rubbing his throbbing tip into my wetness. My hand pulled away when I felt him pushing into me, filling me up with his big cock.

I let out a sensual moan of half pain and half pleasure as Bucky’s lips parted, a shaky breath escaping them as we felt my pussy clench around him.

My thighs clenched too, squeezing around his hips as his thick length slid out from where it was half sheathed inside of me. Bucky was going at a painfully slow rate, sliding his cock a little deeper into me with every thrust.

His lips dropped down onto mine, kissing me gently as he stretched my tight little pussy with his cock. The feeling of his thick length inside me made me dig my fingernails into the muscly flesh of his back.

I whimpered against his lips, my face screwing up in pleasure as he pulls his head back for a moment to admire me before crashing his lips on mine again.

I lifted my legs to wrap around his waist, my hips desperately bucking up to him in need. Bucky used his flesh hand to balance as his metal one ran up my leg, over my waist and up to my boob, squeezing it gently.

I cried out and arched my back into his touch, still in disbelief at how good he felt inside me. His cock filled me up again as he let out a grunt, breathing heavily as his body stilled.

Bucky moaned against my lips as he felt my pussy squeezing his cock, both of us lost in the overwhelming feeling of our bodies connecting. I pecked his lips over and over as he started rocking his hips back and forth slowly, making my tits bounce with every thrust.

His balls slapped against me, the sound filling the room as I let my mouth hang open. Our breaths met in a hot mix as Bucky squeezed his eyes shut in pleasure.

His hips jerked with each thrust, feeling himself rubbing against my walls as my pussy lips hugged his length. Bucky shuffled forward on his knees, deepening the thrusts as he picked up the pace.

I whimpered out softly, the new angle hitting all the right spots as my pussy welcomed his size, his cock soaked in my juices. “Bucky” I breathed shakily as I wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly against me. Bucky’s head fell perfectly into my neck, his little grunts intensified in my ear now.

A shiver ran through my body as I inhaled his manly scent, overwhelmed by the emotion and euphoric feeling of the moment. I felt my pussy tingle with pleasure, already close to my high as Bucky fucked his cock into me.

I tugged on his hair lightly when I felt his lips on my neck again, both of his hands pressed into the blanket either side of my head as he nudged his hips forward, sending his cock deeper into me. Bucky moaned into my neck, his cock twitching inside of me as he became overwhelmed with the feeling.

Bucky stopped his thrusting with such a suddenness that my eyes opened, a worried look washing over my face. He panted breathlessly, gripping my hips and supporting my back as he picked me up, sitting back on his knees with me on top of him.

I let out a moan the new angle impairing me on his cock as my arms stayed clung tightly around him. Bucky groaned full of pleasure, kissing me slowly as he started thrusting up into me, using his new position to his advantage.

Waves of pleasure mercilessly washed over me, only being intensified by the way Bucky was watching me fuck himself on top of him. He leaned his head back to watch me, his hips lifting to meet my movements as his arms clung to my body.

His eyes were soft and full of lust, his lips dropped into a pout as he watched me whither on top of him, overwhelmed with pleasure. I moaned with as gasp as my orgasm suddenly took over, my body pulsating on him as I rode out my high. 

I leaned forward and kissed him deeply, our tongues playing as he kept me in place despite how my hips were jolting at the throbbing of my clit. Bucky’s face dropped into my neck, his hot breath against my skin as I felt his warm cum spurting inside of me. I sighed out in satisfaction as Bucky grunts, wave after wave of cum filling me up.

He kept me close, our breathless bodies pushed together as we sat there in the afterglow of our orgasms. I’d never cum so hard in my life, the gentleness and love of Bucky’s actions had only topped the experience.

I turned my head and smiled lazily, kissing his swollen lips as my fingers ran through his hair. Bucky reacted by leaving soft pecks on lips over and over, his softening cock still buried inside of me.

“Y/N.” Bucky whispered softly, his breath still warm against my lips as his hooded eyes gazed into mine. “Will you be mine?” 

“Your valentine?” I softly asked, holding him tightly as I thought about the coldness I would feel once his body retreated from mine. 

“No, forever.” Bucky replied hopefully, making my heart stop as a wave of emotion flooded through my body. 

“Forever’s good for me.” I smiled as my eyes filled with tears, nothing but love for the man in front of me as I connected our lips in a gentle kiss. The perfect end to the perfect day.

tag list:

@harrysthiccthighss

@annestine

@bestofbucky

@be-patient-be-good

@nothing0is4here

@velvetcardiganbucky

@sexwithhiddlesbatch