#bucky x assistant!reader

[hollyseb]

A COLLISION OF FATE - CEO!BUCKY X ASSISTANT READER (one-shot)

warnings; swearing, minors dni

2.4k words

summary; As an assistant to the powerful CEO Bucky Barnes, you’ve always kept things strictly professional—maybe even a little distant. But when a chaotic morning commute turns your world upside down, you find yourself relying on your boss in unexpected ways.

authors note; this is my first fic in a while so please let me know what you think!

Fuck.

You couldn’t help but pull the bed sheets over your head as your alarm sounded. You’d slept terribly, anticipation stewing in your chest all night long. A huge day at work loomed ahead. Your boss trusted you with organising a client meeting for a massive company project, and despite your meticulous preparations, anxiety gnawed at you relentlessly.

This marks your fourth month as an assistant to Mr Barnes, CEO of Barnes Industries. Your boss embodies power and leadership, standing well over six feet. He has a presence that’s impossible to ignore, although you often find yourself trying to; avoiding his piercing gaze, shrinking away from his broad figure. He intimidated you.

You’d learned to anticipate his needs, not just to impress him but perhaps as an attempt to keep your conversations to a minimum. Although you had managed to settle into your role, growing accustomed to your boss’ high standards, you often felt a sense of apprehension. You were overwhelmed by how important he was. Mr Barnes wasn’t just your boss - he was a force of nature.

The two of you maintained a strictly professional relationship, even lingering towards slightly cold sometimes. You liked to do what he needed you to do, and then get out of his way. However, every now and then, you’d catch him watching you with a look that lingered a moment too long. You’d always assume there was something on your face, or a smudge on your shirt, anything that might explain why he was staring. But when you checked, there was never anything there.

For Bucky, it started with the little things. He noticed how you always made sure his coffee was exactly how he liked it, down to the last detail, even on the most hectic mornings. You remembered the smallest preferences he had, the things he rarely even thought about himself—like the way you would quietly replace the pens in his office with the specific brand he preferred, or how you always ensured there was a bottle of his favorite water in the conference room before every meeting. These weren’t just the actions of a diligent assistant; they were gestures that spoke of someone who genuinely cared, someone who paid attention to him in a way that no one else ever had.

Your snoozed alarm began to sound again, piercing your thoughts like a violent shriek. Just get through the meeting, you told yourself, before ultimately deciding to drag yourself out of bed. The thought repeated like a mantra. Is it normal to feel this worried about disappointing your boss? You thought, before swatting away the idea. You didn’t need to focus on that for now.

A hot shower did little to wash away the anxiety that clinged to you. Your movements were robotic as you went through your morning routine, driven by the pressure of the meeting.

With a sigh, you reached for your phone, the screen lighting up with a soft glow. 7:45 AM. It felt as though the numbers were taunting you. You ran a hand down your face, bracing yourself for the day.

Time to go.

After locking the door to your small, cozy apartment, you made your way down the narrow, communal staircase. The morning air hitting you with a welcomed bite as you stepped outside into the car park.

You slid into the drivers seat of your aging Mini, the familiar creak of the door and worn leather seat beneath you provided a familiar comfort. It wasn't much, but it was yours, the car you'd had since you were 17. You shifted into gear and gripped the steering wheel, the hum of the engine almost grounding you.

Just get through the meeting, you repeated, merging into the flow of morning traffic. You let your mind drift to the day's plans, mentally rehearsing the things you had to organise when you arrived at the office… calling the clients to confirm their attendance, setting up the meeting room, dropping the itinerary off at Mr Barnes’ desk.

As you approached a red light just a few blocks from the office, you felt a fleeting sense of calm. Your heartbeat, which had been a relentless drumbeat of anxiety, finally began to settle into a more regular rhythm. The office was so close, the meeting so imminent. All you had to do now was make it through the last stretch of traffic and face the day.

Without warning, a loud, violent crashing noise shattered the calm. The force of the impact threw you forward, your seatbelt straining against your body painfully. The contents of your bag spilling into the passenger seat footwell alongside the sound of crunching metal. Your mind was blank, struggling to catch up with what had just happened.

What the -?

Your heart raced, your breaths leaving in shallow and quick successions. The realisation hit you like a second wave of impact - you’d been rear-ended.

You gripped the steering wheel like a vice, catching sight of your pale face as movement caught your attention in the rear view mirror. the driver of the car behind you was already out of his vehicle, storming towards you.

Rather than waiting for you to get out the car, he began shouting at you through the closed window. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He shouted, his voice echoing violently.

He looked to be in his mid thirties, dressed in a wrinkled suit, face red with anger and eyes practically bulging out his head.

You took a deep breath, adrenaline surging through your veins. Stay calm, don’t escalate. You unbuckle your seatbelt, ignoring the dull pain of where it had dug into you, stepping out your beloved car.

“Do you even know how to fucking drive?” He yelled, arms flailing. “I’m going to be late for work because of you, stupid bitch”

You were taken aback by his blatant profanity. Humiliation rising in your body as bystanders gawked at the interaction.

You blinked, your nerves fraying under his aggression. “I was stopped at the light. You hit me,” you said, voice trembling.

”Bullshit!” He spat, inching towards your face. “You stopped like a fucking moron and now look at my fucking car!”, he pointed in the direction of his vehicle, a sleek black BMW, barely scratched.

The sight of your car, however, made your stomach turn. The bumper was shrewd across the concrete, the metal contorted dramatically. You’d come off much worse than him. You could feel tears burning at the corners of your eyes.

“This is all your fault!”, he spat, voice dripping with venom. “You’re going to pay every cent for the damage you’ve caused.”

Before you could respond, he lunged closer, jabbing a finger in your face. “Do you even realise how fucking pathetic you look right now? Crying because you’ve ruined my car-“

The man was interrupted. A firm, authoritative voice cutting through his ramblings like steel.

“Is there a problem here?”

You looked up, your heart pounding, and there he was - Bucky Barnes. The sight of him hit you like a tidal wave. For a split second, you were frozen, breath catching in your throat.

Bucky’s sharp blue eyes were fixed on the angry driver, his expression a mask of controlled authority. Your eyes shifted between the two, noticing how Bucky towered over the man.

The man’s voice was quieter than before, his composure tense. “Who the hell are you?”

Bucky stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. “I’m her boss,” he said, his tone calm but edged with a warning. “And I suggest you step back before you make this any worse.”

The anger in the man’s stance faltered, replaced by a grudging recognition that he was outmatched. With a final glare towards you, he stormed back to his car.

You exhaled, realising you’d been holding your breath. “Thank you,” you murmured, voice shaky from adrenaline.

Bucky’s gaze shifted to you, his eyes softening a fraction. “Are you okay?” He asked, his voice low and filled with a warmth which contrasted the icy authority he had shown moments before.

You watched the way his eyes trailed down your shaking body for any obvious signs of injury.

You nodded in response. “Y-yes, I’m okay. Just a bit shaken”, a forced smile pursing against your lips.

He leaned down slightly, lowering himself to your height, his face inches from yours. Placing a hand on each of your shoulders. “You don’t have to put a brave face on with me. Are you really okay?”

The depth of his concern was more than you expected, combined with the gentleness of his touch, you felt like your head was spinning.

”Thank you, Mr Barnes”, your voice barely more than a whisper, “I’m okay, I promise”.

Bucky’s expression softened even more. “Let me take you to the office. I’ll sort you out and make sure everything’s taken care of.” Bucky said, his voice low and earnest.

His words soothed you. He placed a firm but gentle hand on your mid-back, guiding you towards his car. The warmth of his touch was a comforting contrast to the cold air. You found solace in the protective way he guided you.

When you reached his car, Bucky opened the passenger door for you with a quiet, practiced grace. His movements were deliberate and careful, as if he wanted to ensure you felt as secure as possible.

Bucky closed the door gently and walked around to the driver’s side. As he settled into the driver’s seat, he adjusted the rear view mirror, his gaze flicking over to you. “You don’t have to call me Mr. Barnes, when it’s just us two. James will do.”

You met his gaze in the mirror, feeling a sudden rush of warmth. You faltered for a split second under the heat of his stare. “Okay, James”, you said quietly.

He gave a small, approving smile, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “That’s better,” he said, his voice low. “Let’s get you to the office.”

Your boss wouldn’t let you know, but the way you trembled when that man was yelling at you, the way his words reduced you to feeling small and insignificant, made Bucky’s blood boil. His usual calm and composed demeanor was barely holding back the fury simmering beneath the surface. The sight of you being treated so harshly, so unfairly, sparked something primal in him—something protective and fierce.

Arriving at the office, Bucky parked with a practised ease and opened your door, offering a supportive hand as you stepped out. Eyes glazing over you again to see if you were moving with any discomfort.

As you walked into the building, you were met with a flurry of activity. Bucky led you to your room, settling you into your office chair with a soft, reassuring hand on your back.

“Take a moment to breathe,” he instructed, his voice a mix of warmth and authority. “I’ll handle the meeting for now, okay? You’ve had a rough morning.”

You nodded gratefully, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. Bucky made a few quick phone calls and sent some emails, managing the meeting logistics with the efficiency and competence that defined him.

Throughout the morning, Bucky periodically checked in on you. Each time, his concern was evident, his questions simple but genuine. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?” he would ask, always with that soft, protective tone.

By lunchtime, Bucky made sure you had something to eat. He watched with a mixture of satisfaction and relief as you ate, noting the gradual return of color to your cheeks.

As the workday wound down, you wrapped up your tasks and prepared to head home. Bucky had been a steadfast support throughout the day, ensuring that you felt taken care of and that everything went smoothly despite the morning’s chaos.

As you gathered your things, Bucky approached with a rare, genuine smile. “How are you holding up?”

“Much better, thanks to you,” you said, returning his smile. “I really appreciate everything today.”

”Well I would love to drive you home, but I still have a few more things to wrap up. One of my drivers will take you, okay?”, your boss said, leaning against the door frame of your office.

You opened your mouth to politely decline, feeling that he had already done enough for you today. However, you faltered when he raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his expression, you knew there was no point in arguing.

��Alright,” you agreed, feeling a warmth spread through you at his insistence. “Thank you.”

“Good,” he said, satisfied, a part of him wanted to grin at your obedience as he circled back to his office.

The ride home was quiet, the events of the day replaying in your mind. You were exhausted, but there was also a strange sense of anticipation that you couldn’t quite explain.

When the car pulled up outside your apartment, you thanked the driver and stepped out. The cool evening air was refreshing after the long day, and you were eager to wash the day away with a hot shower and a bottle of wine.

But as you approached your apartment building, something caught your eye. Parked in your usual spot was a familiar-looking Mini, only this one was brand new. The gleaming paint, the spotless interior—it was unmistakably the same make and model as your beloved old car, but this one was perfect in every way.

There’s no way, you thought.

Your heart pounded as you took a hesitant step closer, your mind racing to process what you were seeing. There was no mistaking it—this was a gift, one that had been carefully chosen to replace what you had lost earlier today.

A note was tucked under the windshield wiper. With trembling hands, you pulled it free and unfolded the paper. The handwriting was unmistakable.

You’ve had a rough day. I hope this makes it a little easier. – James

A rush of emotions overwhelmed you, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. You never expected something like this. Bucky hadn’t just replaced your car—he’d chosen something that he knew would mean something to you, something that was a perfect reflection of who you were.

As you stood there, staring at the car that now felt like a symbol of so much more, you couldn’t help but feel that the boundaries between you and Bucky had shifted in a way that couldn’t be undone.

A collision of fate.

————————————————————-

TAGLIST!

@sashaisready @matchat3a @writingpastmybedtime @melsunshine @lex-the-flex @himawariizephyr @jbbarnesgirl @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @sagebarness @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @selella @armystay89 @globetrotter28 @iwritewithpenandpaper @casa-boiardi @winterslove1917 @buckydarling09 @kandis-mom @scott-loki-barnes @mrsevans90

[iamthatonefangirl]

miss possessive - congressman bucky barnes

okay not my best work, i swear i have like nine drafts i've come up with in a week, none of them good enough to post.

this is inspired by miss possessive by tate mcrae even though i completely lost sight of the song really quickly

part 2

part 3

~~~

you really had no right to be so jealous.

you watched him from across the floor, sipping on your flute of champagne. you'd grabbed it off of one of those waiters' trays as they were walking about the room.

it tasted like shit. you didn't like the taste of wine, and it wasn't even enough to get you drunk.

you knew this kind of event was difficult for him to sit through, but hey, he made his choice going into politics.

you watched as he made his rounds, speaking to various donors and attempting to charm them. you watched as all their wives fawned over your-

no.

you watched as all their wives fawned over him, bringing him in for a hug instead of a handshake. of course they were interested; he was the best looking man here. yes, he was the oldest man in the room, but appeared to be the youngest and was, regardless, easily the most attractive. and all the thirty-some wives of the cranky old rich white men wanted him.

it pissed you off. not that you had the right to be pissed, but. oh well. you're just a girl.

after two flutes of champagne, you watch as one of the donors receives a phone call, leaving his wife with Bucky. ever the gentleman, he would never leave a woman all by herself in a room full of sharks who might try to snatch her up. 

Bucky was very much a different man than he was in the forties, of course. doesn't mean he lost the ability to attract every woman in the room.

you can't stand idly by as she puts his hands all over him, and he can't take his eyes off of her. no, of course he would never go for a married woman. what he did know, though, was that if he pissed her off, her husband wouldn't donate to his campaign.

you roll your eyes and decide it's time for some hard liquor.

you hide in the corner of the room, drinking your much stronger beverage as fast as possible. no, getting drunk at a professional event isn't the best idea, but what do you care. you're not the star of the show.

he is.

he's the brilliant ex-POW who's turned his entire life around in a whole new century. he's the gorgeous soldier who not only survived, but is also electing to do something meaningful with his life. 

he's the star tonight.

he's the star of every thought you have of your future, but that can't possibly come to surface now. it's not the time or place. 

watching him entertain this woman truly boils your blood, but at least you have some actual alcohol in your system now. you no longer feel the need to justify why her hands on his pristine suit makes you want to grab her by the diamonds around her neck and yank her off of him. you can justify your desire to grab him by the tie to pull him away from her and yell at him for not focusing on what's important. 

you bite your tongue. you knew it was all a ploy.

doesn't mean you had to like it. 

~~~

while you stand at the bar waiting for your second beverage of the evening, a man comes up next to you, and the bartender takes his drink order. 

you give him a small, awkward smile as you briefly make eye contact. you're kind of shocked: he's definitely the only man in this room who appears to be younger than 60, Bucky excluded.

you almost startle when he speaks up, introducing himself. Michael, he says his name is.

you turn to actually face him this time. roughly 40, plenty taller than you, and brown hair sprinkled with some greys in there. your perfect type. you quietly tell yourself you're done drinking–no way you're gonna fuck this up. if you weren't so mad about Bucky's new admirer, you might be a tad less inclined to speak to him, but… 

you step closer as you give him a real smile and introduce yourself.

"so, correct me if I'm wrong, but something tells me you're here alone tonight," he begins, indicating to your left hand. no ring. 

you laugh a little. 

"you would be correct," you tell him. "I could say the same about you."

he smiles back at you. it's so beautiful you forget all about your boss and the woman he's now got on his arm as he continues to walk around–

well. you almost forget. good enough.

"you would also be correct."

you explain why you're here, you work for one of the candidates. although, you don't tell him who, exactly. he explains why he's here, one of the patrons. you have to pry the information out of him, but you appreciate it: he's trying to talk to you without flashing his money in your face. it's noble, you think.

you eventually learn he's interested in actually getting to know the candidates' campaigns, not just what they think they can offer him in return for his money.

"you know, I would be happy to learn more about your boss' campaign. from one of the people who probably understands it best," he tells you. you're slightly taken aback for a moment, not aware this was a business interaction. you never even told him who your boss was, so it was confusing, to say the least.

you felt stupid for thinking he was actually interested, for thinking that he was flirting with you.

"oh, of course-" you begin to tell him, but he interjects, "after I take you out, perhaps?"

your smile perks back up subconsciously. so you didn't have it wrong.

"I would love that," you tell him, carefully taking the lapels of his jacket into your hands. you feel his hands come to your waist, and it's like a jolt of energy runs up your spine.

you look closer and almost flip your shit as you see his eyes up close. they're Bucky's eyes. he's not Bucky, sadly, but. 

you're fucked.

"maybe dinner can happen... another time?" you offer, hoping he gets the hint. you realize you probably look like a whore throwing yourself at him like this.

he chuckles. "I've got a room upstairs, if you'd like to come have drinks instead of dinner."

hell yes. you're gonna score tonight, even if it's not with the man you dream about with your hands between your legs every night-

"I would," you say, and bite your tongue. "I just... have to stick around until this thing is over. yeah?"

he nods and steps back. "I suppose I should also do what I came here for," he chuckles. "I'll come find you later?"

you smile and you feel your face go pink. "sounds good."

you can't help the fact that your gaze reverts immediately back to your boss the second the man walks off. Bucky hasn't spared you a single glance all evening, but the second you look back at him this time, you're suddenly staring into his beautiful eyes. 

he holds eye contact with you for what feels like an eternity. his expression is muted, no real emotion showing. maybe... curiosity?

of course he's not going to look mad, or upset, or jealous. you have to stop thinking he'd ever look at you with anything other than pure professionalism.

because he's everything. and you're just a kid, lost in the world, desperately in love with your boss, and everything is fucking falling apart around you.

at least you've got a rich, hot, older man ready to fuck you tonight.

~~~

you kept to your word to yourself and didn't drink for the rest of the night, although you continued hovering at the bar for the semblance of safety it provided.

you continued staring at Bucky for the next two hours. the clingy woman's husband had, in fact, returned and took her away from Bucky. clearly, she was pissed, but tried to hide it. you had to bite back a smirk.

he didn't look back at you once for the rest of the evening.

eventually, the crowd dies down. you realize that now, you have to explain to your boss that you won't be riding back to the office with him, effectively telling him your exact plans for the rest of the night. embarrassing!

you're almost ready to bite the bullet and bid Bucky a good night, scanning the room for him, when you hear a voice from behind you. 

"we still on for drinks?"

you plaster a smile on your face as you turn around to the man standing behind you.

"absolutely," you say, taking his hands. "lead the way."

you begin to follow the man, telling yourself to try and remember to shoot your boss a text to 'not worry about you' before getting your clothes torn off by this man who's currently whisking you away.

you get into the elevator with him, what's his name, you think? oh, Michael, and yank him in hard, crashing your mouths together, putting all of your energy into how badly you need this.

you're startled by the sound of a clanging of metal, ripping your mouth away from the man's and turning to face the noise.

well, apparently, you were too eager and stupid enough to not wait for the elevator doors to entirely shut, because you see now that the noise was a result of Bucky's vibranium arm grabbing the elevator door. he pushes it open and steps inside, eyes piercing daggers through you the whole time.

you stand there, appalled. the man gently pulls away from you, reaching out a hand to attempt to shake Bucky's hand.

"Mr. Barnes, it's a pleasure," he begins. "my apologies for this... less than ideal meeting."

Bucky doesn't even look at the man, eyeing you up and down, taking in your smudged lipstick and the way your dress is slightly out of place.

the man attempts once more to interject. "Mr. Barnes, please, don't worry about her. why don't us men go back downstairs and have a real discussion? I'd love to hear more about your campaign."

wait. why do his words sound like they're throwing you under the bus, almost?

Bucky notices it, too, you realize. he tilts his head in the man's direction before actually averting his gaze to look at him.

"and leave the lady all by herself?" he asks.

"don't worry about that. she's... inconsequential. if you and I can just go back downstairs and–"

"what did you just say?" Bucky asks. you swear he doesn't look like your boss anymore, but someone... else.

the man is taken aback by Bucky's demeanor. his mouth gapes like an idiot.

"you do know this is my assistant, right?" Bucky asks him. the man's face goes pale as the pieces slot together in his head.

"Mr. Barnes, my apologies, truly," he says.

you just stand there feeling more stupid than ever. inconsequential? wow, okay. you almost don't even care that he's dismissing your entire existence, but you can't stand the fact that he's doing it in front of Bucky. you care more about what Bucky thinks of you than literally anyone else, and now? now he's going to see you as a fucking slut who isn't even good enough for a man to commit to for one night.

god, you're pathetic.

"shouldn't you be apologizing to her?" Bucky grits.

the elevator doors open to the man's floor, and he mumbles a sorry under his breath as he runs out.

great. not only do you look pathetic in front of your boss, but you're not getting fucked tonight, either. just great.

the doors shut behind Bucky, who has now returned his gaze to you. you wonder if he's going to press the button to go back to the lobby.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Mr. Barnes," you say, swallowing your embarrassment as you stand up straight and adjust your dress.

he just stares at you.

"what?" you ask.

"are you okay?" he asks, and he looks genuinely concerned.

you know he cares about you, you're his assistant, after all. but that's it.

"fine," you assure him, and begin to reach behind him to press the button to take you back down to the lobby.

he gently grabs your wrist before you can.

you look at him, confused. you know your face says it all.

"Mr.–" you begin.

"Bucky," he corrects.

"can I press the button, Mr. Barnes?"

he still hasn't let go of your wrist. you feel stupid for enjoying the feel of his metal hand against your skin, for getting to feel a part of him that's real.

"you know, you clearly picked out the worst of the men here tonight," he observes.

you roll your eyes and pull your wrist away from him before you do something stupid.

"are you kidding? this place was riddled with capitalist billionaires and politicians. like you," you say, smirking.

he chuckles a little.

you can't help yourself, though. can't let it go unsaid.

"clearly you had some interested parties of your own tonight."

he rolls his eyes and finally turns away from you, pressing the button for the lobby. you let out a quiet sigh of relief. being in this elevator any longer, with him? that would just about kill you.

"you noticed that, huh?" he asks.

"who didn't?" you mumble. but of course, he's not just a politician, he's an enhanced, so he hears it.

"look, I knew she was married, I was never going to-" he begins to explain, but you cut him off.

"oh, I don't care what she does in her own fucked-up marriage."

oh my god. what did you just say? did you just admit to the fact that the only reason you did care was because she was fawning over Bucky?

fuck.

the elevator doors open, and you rush out.

you can hear the smirk on his face as he trails after you.

"so, you were really going to sleep with that guy, huh?" he teases.

you stop in your tracks. most everyone has left by now, leaving only you and Bucky in the room aside from the clean-up crew. you turn back to face him.

"can we just go?"

he nods and calls for the car to come around.

~~~

twenty minutes, you remind yourself.

in twenty minutes, you'll have made it back to the office, and you can go get in your own car and take yourself back to your own place and you won't have to be sitting thigh to thigh with your boss in the back of a limo that would totally be hot to fuck in-

he clears his throat, and you turn your head to face him.

"what that guy said..." he begins. you roll your eyes in anger at the reminder. you didn't even care he said it, you just wish he hadn't said it in front of Bucky.

you wave your hand as though waving off the thought, and waving off Bucky's concern. but it doesn't quite work like that.

"you're not inconsequential."

he says it with such a conviction you feel it deep in your bones, in the very core of your being. he sounds so authentic that it almost hurts.

a million thoughts swirl in your head. you could say i know, you could get defensive, you could say thanks, Bucky...

a better one pops in your head.

"how did you know where I was? you didn't see me all evening."

the limo stops moving. the driver rolls down the divider to grumble something about traffic at this hour? before rolling it back up again.

great. now it's going to take even longer to get home to your vibrator.

Bucky sees the interruption as a way to drop the matter. you press it.

"Mr. Barnes?"

"god, would you stop calling me that?"

you see him turn away from you to look out the window, biting his lip and rubbing his forehead. you've now frustrated him, and he's mad at you. this is good. it's easier for you to deal with him being angry at you than him being nice to you.

you know he just wants you to call him Bucky, but you're a smartass.

"yeah, okay, sorry. Sergeant Barnes," you mumble, smirking to yourself.

he about flips his shit. why is he getting so worked up?

"seriously?" he asks, turning back to you. his eyes are blown back, in anger, probably. not lust, like you wish they were. because you're just a stupid kid, and he's just your boss with a lifetime of trauma. you could never understand him the way you wanted to.

"what?" you say, biting your lip as you smile, continuing to tease him.

you swear that for a second, he glances down to your lips.

SHIT!

in that embarrassing moment, you realize your lipstick is still smudged across your face from the moment in the elevator. your heart rate shoots up as you bury your head in your chest, bringing your hand to wipe away the mess of your face, before turning to face the opposite way from him.

you are, well and truly, stuck in traffic. some concert, or sports game, or whatever...

which means you're stuck, pressed up against your boss, in the back of this tiny limo right now, for only god knows how much longer.

you're pulling your phone out of your clutch when he says your name.

you want to lean into the feeling, how smooth it is. how crisp his voice is, how pretty it sounds saying your name, as though he's genuinely paying you any attention whatsoever.

"you're not inconsequential."

it flares your anger, all of it coming up from your gut and into your throat, as you respond.

"god, would you forget it already?" you snap.

shit, shit, shit. you fucked up. you just snapped at your boss, of all people. you try to backtrack, throw out a million comments of "sorry," but that's it, you're getting fired.

you finally look back at him, and he's actually looking at you. like, it feels like he's staring into your soul, seeing all the pieces of you that you're trying to keep hidden from him.

the car begins moving again.

~~~

he watches you, trying to figure you out, as always.

he can't think of a better word for it than the fact that you genuinely amuse him.

he sees the look in your eyes, the way you're desperately trying to cover up the shame you feel over what happened in the elevator. he's trying to be gentle about it, trying to assure you that what the man said was utter bullshit, but you keep shutting him down.

god, and you look so...

no. you're, like, 80-plus years younger than him (he rubs his temples every time he remembers his age) and employed by him. any interest on his part would be purely inappropriate, a gross misuse of his position of power.

and god, his fucking age, man. he shouldn't even be around anymore-

anyways.

you look at him with those fucking doe eyes, going back and forth between anger, and shame, and something else he can't quite pinpoint.

this is probably the worst part of what happened. you're always so unapologetically yourself, but he can tell this man has gotten under your skin.

even if it's not his job to comfort you, he doesn't want you to feel like that. because who you are is perfect. 

~~~

one minute, you're staring into his eyes, trying to read the look on his face. 

the next, you're bracing yourself as the car spins out of control, feeling hit after hit of various cars all crashing into you sequentially.

you don't register it until after it's all over. the way he's wrapped himself around you as though to protect you. his flesh arm cradles your head to his chest and his vibranium hand wraps itself around the back of your neck.

you take a few deep breaths and begin to pull away from him, looking up to his face as you do. his eyes widen in shock as he looks at you. what? what is it?

"fuck, we gotta get you to a hospital." 

~~~

part 2

part 3

masterlist

tag list

tagged: @clavedelune

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Mixing Business With Pleasure » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Assistant!Female Reader

Summary: You and Bucky decide to mix business with pleasure after work hours.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, female receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, office sex, Sergeant kink, praise kink, vibranium arm kink, size kink, pet names

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF MADE BY ME!

“Sergeant Barnes, I have those papers you asked for earlier.” You say, walking in his office.

You stopped short of the door when you realized noticed that Bucky was on the phone.

“Oh, sorry.” You apologized softly.

“It’s ok. You can stay. I’ll be done in a minute.” Bucky whispers.

You nodded and put the papers on his desk and took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. You sat there patiently while you waited for Bucky to get off the phone. He got off the phone a few minutes later.

“Sorry about that. Fundraiser stuff.” He says.

Bucky walks to his desk and picked up the papers you put on his desk a few minutes ago.

“Is there anything else you want me to do before I go home?” You asked.

“No, that’s it. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He says with a smile.

You smiled back and stood up, walking towards the door.

“Actually…” Bucky stops you. “Can you stay for a little bit?” He asks.

“Of course, Sergeant Barnes.” You replied.

“One more thing, close and lock the door.” He says.

You nodded and did as you were told. You wondered why Bucky wanted the door closed and locked, but you didn’t question it. You walked back over to him, standing a couple feet away from him. Bucky walked around his desk.

“C’mere.” He motions you over to him.

You walked over to him. Bucky’s eyes scanned your body. He licked his lips, loving the way your dress looks on you. He walked closer to you. You walked backwards till you were stopped by his desk. Your breathing got heavier when his body was practically against yours. He put his hands on the edge of his desk, trapping you between his body and his desk.

“Sergeant Barnes…” You whispered. “I thought we weren’t allowed to mix business with pleasure.” You say.

“It won’t hurt to indulge a bit. Besides, we’ve earned it from how hard we worked this week.” Bucky says in almost a whisper, his voice sounding husky.

There’s no secret that you and Bucky are attracted to each other. You tried not to let it show. You’ve always thought it was wrong to mix business with pleasure, but maybe this time is different. Plus, it is after work hours. So why not indulge a bit like Bucky said. After all, you two have been working hard this week.

You gasped softly when you felt his lips on your neck. Bucky places soft kisses on your neck. His beard scratched against your skin, which feels so good. You tilted your head to the side to give him more access. He chuckles lightly against your skin.

“I knew you would want to indulge in this as much as I do.” Bucky murmurs softly.

You hummed in response. Bucky kissed you hungrily. You moaned against his lips. He picked you up and placed you on a clear spot on his desk. You spread your legs so he could in between them. You could feel how hard his cock is against your panty covered pussy.

You pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders. Bucky took it off and tossed it on his desk chair. You loosened his tie and took it off, tossing it on his desk chair where his jacket is. Your fingers unbuttoned every one of the buttons on his shirt, revealing his perfectly sculpted body. Your hands roamed his body, feeling all of his muscles. Bucky took his shirt off the rest of the way and tossed it on his chair where his clothes are starting to pile up.

Bucky’s hands found their way under your skirt to your panties. He hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled them down. He shoved the wet fabric in his pocket. You watched his right hand go in between your legs. You moaned softly when his fingers brushed against your clit.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Bucky whispers. “Are you gonna to be a good girl for me, babydoll?” He asks, whispering in your ear.

“Yes.” You replied. “I’ll be so good for you, Sergeant.” You whispered.

Bucky sank to his knees in between your legs. His hands caressed your thighs as his face moved closer to your pussy. His tongue licked from your entrance to your clit. You moaned softly.

“Fuck, you taste amazing.” He almost whispers.

You sat up on your elbows and watched as he ate you out like a starved man. Bucky put one of his hands on your stomach to hold you down. You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from moaning too loud, scared that someone might hear what you guys are doing in Bucky’s office after hours, even though you two are the only ones in the building right now.

“We’re the only ones here. Let me hear those pretty moans, babydoll.” Bucky says softly.

His name left your lips multiple times. Bucky was pleased to hear your moans. It was like music to his ears. The sound of your moans went straight to his cock, making it uncomfortably hard in his dress pants.

“Sergeant Barnes…” You moaned breathlessly, tilting your head back.

One of your hands found its way to his hair, carding your fingers through his soft slicked back hair. Your other hand kept you propped up on his desk. You stared down at your boss in between your legs as he ate you out. Bucky’s eyes flicked up at you. His blue eyes are now darkened with lust. He winked at you.

“I want-” You were cut off by a moan.

“What do you want, babydoll? Tell me what you want.” Bucky says huskily, giving your clit a few flicked either his tongue.

“I want your fingers.” You finally say.

“Which ones?” He smirks, wiggling his fingers.

“These ones.” You pointed at his vibranium fingers.

Bucky smirks at you. He has seen the way you stare at his vibranium arm when his jacket is off and his shirt sleeves are rolled up.

Bucky pulled his mouth away from your pussy. He brought his vibranium fingers up to your pussy and rubbed them in between your folds, coating them in your slick. You moaned at the cool feeling of the vibranium against your pussy. He then slid two fingers in your pussy. He fucked you with them at a decent pace. Your mouth fell open, moaning softly.

“Yes, fuck, Sergeant!” You moaned. “Just like that!” You moaned again.

His fingers moved faster. He curled his fingers, hitting that spot inside of you perfectly. You moaned loud each time he hit that spot. His vibranium thumb began to rub your clit in circles. Bucky’s name left your lips like a soft chant.

Bucky stood upright in between your legs, his fingers still fucking you. You could feel his hard bulge pressed against your inner thigh. He kissed you hungrily. You parted your lips just enough for him to slide his tongue in your mouth. You moaned against his lips.

“Sergeant…” You tilted your head back. “Fuck me please.” You begged.

“Cum for me first, doll face and then I’ll fuck this sweet pussy.” Bucky says.

Bucky sped up the thrust sped of his fingers. He curled them each time, hitting that one spot inside of you perfectly. You arched your back, pressing your chest against his. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came on his vibranium fingers. Bucky gave your clit a few more rubs before pulling them out of your pussy.

“Holy shit…” You breathed.

After you caught your breath, your fingers unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned and unzipped his dress pants. Bucky unbuttoned your blouse, letting the fabric fall off your shoulders and onto the desk behind you. He licks his lips when he seen your lace bra. You bit your bottom lip and reached your hands behind your back, unclasping your bra, letting it fall from your chest.

You kissed him hungrily and slid a hand in his dress pants, rubbing his hard cock through his boxers. Bucky moans against your lips. He then took your hand out of his pants so he could pull down his pants and boxers just enough for his hard cock to spring out. He pulled you closer to him, your ass on the edge of the desk. He stroked his cock a couple times before rubbing it against your slick folds, coating it with your slick. A gasp left your lips when the tip of his cock entered your pussy. His tip alone split you open.

“Oh fuck…” You moaned, tilting your head back. “You’re so big.” You moaned again.

Bucky moans at how tight you are, loving the way your pussy squeezes his cock. He watches as his cock slides in your pussy. It’s sinful and hot. He couldn’t help but thrust faster. You wrapped your arms around his strong body, your nails digging in his skin. You pressed your lips against his skin, kissing along his skin softly. Your teeth nipped on the skin of his collarbone, marking him up.

Should you be leaving hickeys and scratches on your boss? No. Should your boss be fucking you senseless on his desk? No. Do either of you care? No. Something about all of this feels so right to you guys and you guys love it and neither of you want it to stop.

Bucky spread your legs wider and leaned over you, fucking you at a better angle. His cock hit that one spot inside of you perfectly. A pornographic moan left your lips. It was music to Bucky’s ears.

“Is that your little spot, doll face?” Bucky asks softly in your ear.

“Yes!” You answered and gasped softly. “Please don’t stop!” You moaned.

“I fucking won’t.” He growls softly.

Bucky increased the pace of his thrusts. Your nails dug in his skin, leaving red scratch marks on his back. He reached a hand in between the two of you, blindly feeling for your clit and found it with ease. You gasped when you felt the cool vibranium of his fingers on your clit. His vibranium fingers rubbed your clit in circles, helping your orgasm build up, in which it started to.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned.

A low moan left Bucky’s lips when he felt your pussy squeeze around his cock.

“You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that, babydoll.” He pants.

His orgasm built up, along with yours. Your legs started to shake a little bit. You felt the coil in your stomach about to snap. Your orgasm was about to come crashing down on you.

“I can feel you getting close, doll. You gonna cum?” Bucky asks.

“Mhmm, yes!” You moaned.

“Be a good girl and cum for me.” He whispers in your ear.

You arched your back in pleasure, pressing your breasts against his chest. A pornographic moan left your lips as you came.

“That’s a good girl.” He praises softly.

Bucky’s orgasm wasn’t too far behind yours. He leaned his forehead against your shoulder. His thrusts got sloppy, but he regained rhythm. A mix of a growl and a moan left his lips as he came, coming deep inside of you.

“Holy shit…” Bucky moans.

His thrusts came to a stop. He stayed in between your legs for a moment, his cock still inside of you.

“I’m so glad that I hired you.” Bucky says with a smile.

You smiled back and pecked his lips softly. He then pulled his cock out of you and cleaned the two of you up with tissues before you two got dressed. You checked the time on your phone. It was later than either of you expected.

“I’ll drive you home.” He says.

“Thank you, Sergeant Barnes.” You smiled.

“Call me Bucky.” He politely corrects you and smiles.

“Bucky.” You say softly with a smile.

This the first time and definitely not the last time you and Bucky mix business with pleasure.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Please can we have more Yan justice league?

Maybe the reader has a boyfriend in the military so she doesn't see him much and when he comes back to visit, the go on a fancy date before they crash it?

It would make it even better if they reacted to the boyfriend about to propose to her!

A Day in Life: Heartbreaks

Synopsis: A day in your life where your yanderes find a secret of yours and tell you another one.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader; Modern!40s!Bucky Barnes X Reader

Tw: Bucky you’re one of my fav characters from Marvel, I'm so sorry I did u dirty😭; Heavy mentions of cheating and NO forgiving; Stalking; English isn’t my 1st language.

Word count: 1k

Requested? Duh.

Extra notes: I should be studying instead of writing this. Also omg I got so many requests in just a few hours, thank you very much!! I'm writing them all!!

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

Since most of your days became filled with stress and anxiety, you started appreciating even more moments where you could just forget all your problems, from small ones — like, lack of motivation to go to the gym, bad hair days and an ingredient you forgot at your fridge and became rotten—, and big, out of your control ones — like seven superheroes, who you see almost everyday, stalking you.

Your boyfriend getting back was one of the best dic(k)strations.

Bucky was a sergeant, he spent weeks, even months, away from you on missions. It was hard, but you were both busy people, so your mind was usually too stimulated to think about boy problems only all day, most adults were, and you believed the hard work would be worth it one day. The future was hopefully bright.

The League never mentioned him. Actually, some of them implied more than once that they thought you were available, so they probably didn't know about your relationship. You didn't use much social media and your boyfriend got especially busy this year, so it made sense.

He paid for you to get your nails done earlier and took you to a nice restaurant. After that, Bucky took you for a walk around the city, lively and beautiful even at night, and stopped at the park where your first date happened. Everything was fine, until he got on his knees. Suddenly, seven, mostly colorful, figures descended upon you from out of nowhere, screaming.

— (Y/N)! YOU CAN'T MARRY HIM! — Flash’s voice startled you, confirming your suspicions to who the group was.

You growled.

— SERIOUSLY? LEAVE ME ALONE! IT'S MY DAY OFF! — Bucky, who had swiftly gotten up with his fast reflexes as soon as the heroes charged, blinked at the sight. He looked between you all.

— Doll? What’s this? — You looked apologetic at him.

— Sorry, Bucky. Since I got my job, my bosses got… Protective over me… — You didn't want him to get hurt. Bucky and his friends had a great sense of justice and hated bullies. He would surely want to do something if he knew the true extent of things. You also didn't want to ruin the vision he had of his idols.

Since their obsessive behavior started, you just counted your lucky stars that they would just get tired of you one day or wouldn't sabotage your relationships. They seemed fine with you having friends, but dating was different.

You turned to the League.

— Go! — They shook their heads.

— You can't trust this bastard, darling. We have proof of his betrayal to you. — You looked at Wonder Woman skeptically and crossed your arms. Bucky gulped.

— Oh, really? How so? — You raised an eyebrow.

Batman fiddled with his wrist computer, a second later, a protection was shown and different pictures and videos of your man talking and being very intimate with someone very familiar to you appeared. Your stomach churned and your heart ached.

— This is fake! Doll, you have to believe me! — Bucky cried out and got in front of you, holding your shoulders, trying to cover your vision from the images. You took a step back and kept looking at the images.

The League had more than enough means necessary to fake all of this, but you knew Natasha was Bucky’s ex, and they were still friends and coworkers, even with their intense heartbreak. You sometimes got insecure and worried since they spent so much time together, but he always told you you had nothing to worry about…

You gulped.

The League was all glaring at his back while he shouted a hundred words per minute, desperately trying to convince you he was telling the truth.

Superman growled and walked forward until he grabbed Bucky by his shoulders and pulled him away from you.

— Stay away from them, you asshole. (Y/N), I would never do that to you. — You ignored Green Lantern's words, like you were doing since the pacifier incident. You knew he was getting desperate and that made you specially scared, but at least he gave you some distance.

— Not now. — Batman took a step forward. — A few hours ago, we discovered your relationship. For security reasons, we searched, and found these pictures and conversations from his second social accounts, that he uses to commit his cheating.

— He didn't try to hide much, he thought he wouldn't get caught. — Flash stated.

— I-I need more proof… These could be old… — Your first words spoken made Bucky shut up. Mind scrambling for something.

— Let the Lasso of Truth speak for him. — In a second, the Lasso was thrown around Bucky's torso and he was squirming. — Speak, you worthless mortal! — Wonder Woman ordered.

Bucky was able to struggle for a few seconds, before he blurted out.

— It's truth! It's truth! I told her we broke up and started dating her again! I thought I could have you both at the same time!

You gasped. Your hand shot to your chest.

Flash was on your side in a second, trying to hug and comfort you, but you pushed him away. You started crying from heartbreak and anger.

— HOW COULD YOU?! — You glared at him and pointed at his face.

— Doll… I swear I love you both. But I'm also narcissistic, insecure and look down on women. — The Lasso was really doing its job. You laughed humorlessly.

You had nothing to say anymore. No reason to stay. You took advantage of his tied arms and got close, punched his nose, and stomped away.

The League contemplated going after you and trying to bring you comfort, but Batman and Martian Manhunter decided to just let Bucky go (after intimidating him so as to not get close to you again) and follow you discreetly, watching you from the shadows, intervening only if necessary.

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Taglist:

@wandalfnation

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Pretty P.A. Chapter 1

Summary: Y/N has been the personal assistant to the most influential and famous fashion modeling agency director in the industry for the past 13 years.  They’ve decided to retire, and are leaving the agency in the hands of their protege and former model, Bucky Barnes.  He seems plenty qualified, and Y/N is excited for a chance to work with him.  Change always takes time,  but the new insanely hot boss is distrustful and hesitant towards her.    **curvy reader** **Y/N/N = Your nickname** Warnings: mentions of sexual assault (not from Bucky), some violence, blood, smut

Next chapter

“So let’s raise a glass one last time to our fearless leader and King of Fashion, Tony Stark!”  Steve said loudly, raising his champagne glass high and turning towards Tony.  Everyone in the room raised their glasses and cheered Tony’s name, who was holding back some tears behind his blue tinted sunglasses.  He smiled quickly and raised his glass before taking a big swig of his champagne, and everyone else joined him.  They all clapped afterwards and Tony gave a short bow.

“Thank you, thank you very much,” he said loudly, gesturing for everyone to quiet down.  “I just want to thank all of you for being here and believing in us, in this, in me, and for trusting me with your careers all these years.  And I’d like to thank a couple of people specifically who have made this the greatest career I could have ever hoped for, and without whom I would not be here today.  First to my wife, Pepper,” he turned to her next to him and everyone clapped for her.  “You have always been my best friend and biggest supporter, and the reason I get up in the morning.  And I’d also like to thank my work wife,” he turned to Y/N with a playful smile on his face.  Y/N laughed and covered her face with her hands, everyone else laughing and clapping their hands for her.  “Without you, Olympus Modeling would not be what it is today,” a collective affirmation of voices came from the people around them.  Y/N shook her head and looked down.  “You have been my confidant, my checks and balances, my ride or die, and I’m pretty sure my life would have imploded 13 years ago if you hadn’t come along.  Thank you for everything that you’ve done for me, and for this agency.  Each of us owe our careers to you in some part,” Tony looked over the room of models, talent scouts and editors.  They all nodded in agreement, wide smiles on their faces as they looked at her.  

“Now, I know I’ve been secretive on who I’m being replaced with.  I wanted to be sure that whoever I handed my pretty P.A. down to would be worthy of her,” he said, looping an arm around Y/N’s shoulders.  She rolled her eyes.  “I’m sure most if not all of you know him.  He started his modeling career here at Olympus before becoming a mega supermodel in his own right.  Please give a warm welcome to my protege, the new director of Olympus Modeling, Bucky Barnes!”

The room erupted in applause.  Bucky Barnes came walking forward from the back of the room where he had been hiding in the sea of beautiful faces.  Y/N knew who he was, and had worked with him when he was first starting out as a model years before.  He was generally nice from what she could remember, and insanely attractive.  His long, dark brown hair and beard were now slowly streaking with white and gray around his temples and his chin, making him look even more handsome if that was possible, and his bright blue eyes stunned Y/N every time.  His career had been one for the ages, modeling and walking for almost every fashion house at least once, and he was a staple at every fashion week.  He walked up to Tony with a wide easy smile and hugged him tight.  He turned to Pepper and gave her a small hug before turning to Y/N.  She didn’t expect him to hug her but he did, giving her a short hug that she quickly reciprocated.  He was tall and broad, firm muscles under her hands that she politely and barely touched before pulling away.  He turned back to the crowd of people and politely smiled.

“I trust you all to be on your best behavior and give Bucky the deference and respect you’d give me…then triple it,” Tony laughed.  “Bucky,” he gestured to him to speak.

Bucky nodded before addressing the room.  “Hello everyone!  I’m excited to get started.  I’ve been longtime friends with some of you,” he winked at Steve and looked at a couple of other models, “and as for the rest of you I look forward to getting to know you better.  I plan to do as Olympus has always done and be a beacon of beauty in all its forms.  I want you all to know that I know where you’re coming from, I’ve been there, and I want you all to have safe, productive, and successful careers.  So thank you, Tony,” he turned to him and clapped a hand on his back, “for entrusting me with your legacy.  I hope to make you proud.”

Tony gave him an appreciative smile and sniffed quickly.  “Ahem, enough of this sappy shit.  So, let’s party, and then I’ll be out of your hair.  Drink up!” he shouted and the DJ in the back of the room started the music.  Tony kissed Pepper then turned to Bucky and Y/N.  “Office?”  They both nodded and followed him into what was now Bucky’s office.  Tony closed the door to muffle the music and sat at the main chair one last time.  He rubbed the desk gently before looking up at them sitting across from him.  

“Y/N, I’m sure you remember Bucky,” he said, gesturing to him.  Y/N nodded and turned to Bucky, giving him a small smile.  Bucky gave her a short smile back.  “Bucky, I just wanted to make sure you understand what I’m entrusting you with when it comes to Y/N.”

“Tony, don’t–” Y/N started, leaning forward.

“No, I need to say this,” he gave her a sharp look.  She shut her mouth and sat back, looking down at her hands in her lap.  “I was perfectly serious when I said this place wouldn’t exist with her.  She has been the one constant in my life since she came here 13 years ago, and she will be your greatest asset as you start your journey here.”  Bucky looked at Y/N briefly then back to Tony.  “I also consider her like the daughter I never had.”

“Other than the actual daughter you have,” Y/N muttered, a wry smile on her face.

“She’s only 6, she’ll get over it,” Tony waved away her comment.  “The point is, I love this girl,” he said, pointing to Y/N as he stared deeply at Bucky, “and want her to have a long and happy career here.  I hope that you two can find a good footing together and make this place great, or even greater than I’ve been able to achieve.”

Bucky shifted in his seat before leaning slightly forward.  “I’m sure with how much you and everyone else has been singing her praises, we’ll get along just fine,” he said.  His smooth voice made Y/N chance a glance at him.  His bright blue eyes gave her a long look before settling back on Tony.  

Tony nodded, seeming satisfied with his answer.  He then turned to Y/N and his smile turned watery.  “Oh, Tony, come on,” she said, a lump starting to form in her throat.  “Don’t make me cry in front of my new boss.”

Tony chuckled before looking back at Bucky.  “Could you give us one last minute in this office together?”

Bucky smiled and nodded before standing and walking out, gently shutting the door behind him.  Tony turned back to Y/N and held his hands out to her over the desk.  She quickly sat up and reached for his hands, intertwining them.  He looked at her for a long moment.  “I’m going to miss you,” he said warmly.

“And I’ll miss you,” Y/N said, the tears starting to build in her eyes.  

“It’s been a long but good 13 years,” he sighed, his thumbs rubbing along her knuckles.

“It has,” she agreed with a tight lipped smile.  “Thank you for giving me that chance all those years ago, and teaching me…well, everything I know, really,” she huffed a laugh.  Her tears finally spilled over and she sniffed hurriedly.

“Thank you for everything,” Tony said, his voice trembling.  “He’s a good guy, and I hope you two can take Olympus to the next level.  You’re the best in the business, sweetheart, don’t forget that.”

“All because of you,” Y/N said, her voice straining.  

Tony let go of her hands and stood, rounding the desk and holding his arms open.  Y/N quickly stood and embraced him.  “If he’s not good to you, you call me,” he warned.

Y/N laughed.  “I think I can handle myself.”

[buckrecs]

do you have a ceo bucky list ?

CEO!Bucky

masterlist | req masterlist

ONESHOT

With Love by @jobean12-blog

Bucky might be the most powerful, successful, smartest, sexiest, most perfect CEO in all of New York but he’s your sweet and soft husband first and knows just how to show it.

Cuffing Season by @lunarbuck

Happy birthday, Mr. Barnes

SERIES

The Bienville by @indyluckycharlie

Bucky is the young CEO of his family’s publishing house. A year into the role and working his ass off, he’s finally taking a much needed vacation (upon the advice of his well-meaning family and friends). Solo and feeling a little lost, Bucky finds himself getting a little attached to the front desk receptionist, a local who grew up on the islands and dreams of bigger things.

Monster-In-Law by @holylulusworld

Your mother-in-law is the worst. She will try anything to ruin your loving relationship with Bucky. Will she succeed?

Beneath The Milky Twilight by @bucksangel

Being Mr. Barnes’ personal assistant has been tough, balancing a full time job while taking care of your younger brothers has you running yourself thin. Then, things take a sharp turn after a dinner with your boss when you disclose your financial situation.

Not Me by @simsadventures

Billionaire/entrepreneur Bucky is married to seemingly timid and meek wife, the reader. While he hates her with all he has, she tried to act her part as the wife of the big CEO. And while their relationship falls apart more and more, they both realised there might be more to the story than they previously believed. Will they be able to repair the damage that’s been done, or will they find happiness in somebody else’s arms?

Eye For An Eye by @sinner-as-saint

Battered and bruising, Y/N is out to seek sweet revenge from a man, James Buchanan Barnes, who tore her family apart 10 years ago. Y/N’s plan was simple; infiltrate his life, mess with his head, toy with his heart and leave him broken. Headstrong, she will stop at nothing, not even when it comes down to her being the villain in her own story...

[ladymunson]

The Boardroom 18+

Fic Summary: After your encounter with Bucky in his house you’re surprised to find out he’s your new boss. His assistant Mary is about to retire and he’s looking for a someone new to take the position. Another co-worker has her sights on the job but Bucky only has eyes for you, much to her chagrin.

A/N: Thank you for the support for part one and sorry it’s taken so long to post part two. I really wanted to get this right.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral sex (m & f receiving), unprotected sex, sex in the workplace, unequal power dynamic, drama.

Word count: 2803

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Dividers made by the wonderful @firefly-graphics

“Y/N wait!” Bucky calls out as you leave the meeting room. You stop and turn around as everyone else files out. Angela gives you the evil eye as she walks past.

“Yes sir?” You say, not making eye contact.

“Please don’t do that. I’m so sorry, I had no idea you worked here.” He says.

“What happened between us will not happen again.” You say in a hushed voice. “I don’t want anyone to think I’m getting special treatment. I’m also going to invest in some blinds, it’s not appropriate for that to continue.”

Six weeks later

“Hey there y/n” your college Mary, Bucky’s personal assistant says as you’re pouring your morning coffee. “Do you have a minute to talk in my office?”

“Of course!” You say as you follow her. Her office is decorated in florals and pastels, very feminine but homely.

“Please shut the door hon.” Mary says, your stomach drops. Are you in trouble? You shut the door and proceed to her desk. “Take a seat.” You oblige and sit down, your heart pumping wildly and your palms beginning to sweat.

“Is everything okay?” You ask.

“Everything is wonderful actually, no one knows this yet but I’m retiring at the end of the month.” Mary says with a smile.

“What?!” You say open mouthed. “Why? And why are you telling me before anyone else?”

“Well… someone needs to replace me as Mr Barnes assistant and I wanted to offer the position to you before I announce.”

“Me?!” You ask, shocked.

“I’ve seen how much of a hard worker you are, even though you’ve not been here long. I see you take great care and pride in everything you do and that’s exactly what this job needs.”

“Doesn’t this need to go through HR first?”

Mary sighs. “I’d rather not, I already know that everyone who applies will get turned down.” You raise your eyebrow in question. “Angela set her sights on James the moment she found out he was taking over from his father. She would instantly put herself in the position, and attempt to put herself in his bed. He’s like my nephew and I just couldn’t let that harpy get to him.”

“If he wanted to bed her, then that‘s his decision.” You reply.

“He doesn’t want to y/n but she won’t take no for an answer, she’s tried to get her claws into him for the past three years when he’s attended company functions with his father. I really want you to take this job, not just because you’re a great worker but you’re also professional.”

“Can I think about it?”

Five days later

“Why did you pick her for the job? What has she got that I don’t?!” Angela pouts as she confronts Mary in her office after the announcement of her retirement.

“I would say it’s nothing personal Angela but that would be a lie. I made my decision, you need to respect it.” Mary replies as she folds her arms across her chest.

Angela scoffs, “We’ll see how long she lasts, Bucky can be SO demanding.” She smirks before exiting Mary’s office.

Mary let’s out a sigh before picking up the phone and dialling Bucky’s number.

“Barnes.” He answers.

“James we have a problem.”

“Let me guess, Angela?” He responds.

“She’s gonna make y/n’s life miserable…”

“Don’t worry, I have a plan.”

The next morning

“What’s this?” You ask as Bucky hands you a brand new smartphone.

“I’ll need to be able to get ahold of you at all times and all instructions and duties will come from this new number. If anyone tells you I’ve asked you to do something, you can ask me on this number. And don’t tell anyone about it, except Mary.”

“Why would…? Ah. Angela?” You ask. Bucky nods and leaves your office.

One week later

Bucky- I’m gonna need you to stay late tonight, we have a meeting.

You- How late?

Bucky- Meeting is at 8pm.

You’re thirty minutes early for the meeting, training as Bucky’s assistant has been gruelling but tonight, you have to set up the conference room. Having this meeting at 8pm means you skipped dinner to be here, it’s that important. If you can land this contract it will be a huge thing for the company, there may even be a pay rise in it for some of us.

You place your bag on a chair and get to work. You use the key to open the supply cupboard and take out a brand new pack of note pads and a new box of pens. You open the note pads and place one on the table in front of every chair and a pen on top of each pad. Next are the water glasses which you place around the table, the refrigerator in the corner of the room is stocked with bottles of water which will be distributed when the meeting begins.

You hear Bucky come into the office, so you quickly grab your bag and run into the ladies room. In the bathroom you change from flats into heels and check your hair. The elegant chignon from this morning has lost its setting so you decide to remove the clips, letting it loose and cascading around your shoulders. You grab my brush out of your bag and run it through your hair, the chignon has left your hair with a bouncy curl which looks really cute. You check your dress, making sure there are no stains on the white of the fabric. Once satisfied you grab a lipstick out of your bag and apply the dusky rose colour to your lips. You usually wear nude lipstick to the office but changed your bag this morning, leaving this colour as your only choice. The colour isn’t very bold which is great so it will do.

You exit the bathroom and head back to the conference room, passing by his office quickly. “Y/N?” You hear him call.

“Yes Mr Barnes” you reply from the conference room doorway.

“Can you please make sure there are note pads and pens around the table? And make sure you set out a place for yourself, I need you to stay and take notes for me.” He calls from his office.

“Pads and pens already set out sir and I’ll add a place for me.”

“Thank you!”

You head to your office and grab your iPad, taking notes on that will be much easier. Then you head back to the conference room and place it at the end of the table, opposite his place. You also get yourself a glass.

He walks into the room, looking at his phone “Y/N they’re arriving now, is everything...?” He trails off as he looks up at you, his mouth slightly gaped. “I’ve never seen you with your hair down at the office... pretty” That last word sounded like it should’ve been a personal thought but you don’t draw attention to it.

“Thank you sir. Is there anything else you need before the elevator arrives?” You ask. He shakes his head as you hear the ding and the doors open.

“James...” the first man exiting the elevator says, extending his hand to him.

He shakes his hand. “How are you Bob?” Several other people get out of the elevator behind Mr Kellerman, he always travels with an entourage.

“Can’t complain. Let’s get this show on the road shall we?” Mr Kellerman walks into the conference room and takes a seat in the middle of the table with his back to the window. His assistant Ms Deacon sits to his right and the other members of the party take seats around the table. You get up from your place at the table and get the bottles of water out of the refrigerator, handing them out.

You can feel someone looking at you, like their eyes are boring through you. You ignore it before taking a seat and opening the notes app on your iPad.

The meeting gets underway, you follow everything that’s being said, writing in code so you can interpret them later.

As you listen to Bucky speak, you realise how incredibly sexy his voice is, shifting slightly in your seat and noticing the dampness in your panties. You close your eyes and take a deep breath as you try to erase the thoughts of him slamming you up against the wall and taking you hard and fast out of your mind. You open your eyes and look up straight into his baby blues, you feel the dampness grow as your eyes lock, the small moan he lets out causing you to soak your panties.

You stand, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, may I be excused?” You ask.

He licks his lips and nods his head. You head to the bathroom, stepping into the stall and locking the door behind you. You lean against it, “fuck!” You whisper as you shimmy out of your underwear. You have no spares in your bag so you’re gonna have to go without underwear.

You throw the panties on the floor behind the toilet to collect later and flush, stepping out of the cubicle and washing your hands.

When you get back in the conference room, they all have beaming smiles. “What did I miss?”

He smiles at you. “We reached an agreement to combine our companies!” You smile and clap.

“That’s fantastic! I’m looking forward to working with you Mr Kellerman.” You respond as you shake his hand.

“I might have to steal your new assistant away from you James, she’s marvellous. And may I say very easy on the eye!”

“Y/N will be staying here Bob” he chuckles and waves goodbye, his fans following suit. The elevator doors close and Bucky lets out a huge sigh.

You’re already clearing up the table when he comes back in. Gasping at the sight of you bending over it. You hear footsteps behind you but you don’t turn, thinking he is going to help clean up.

He stands behind you, eyeing up your ass bent over the table. You move slightly on your feet and he moans. Thoughts race through your mind, should I? You take a deep breath and move back ever so slightly until your ass grazes him, you feel his erection straining through his pants. He groans and reaches out, grabbing your hips and pulling you to him. You gasp.

“Mr Barnes!” He thrusts his hips forward, jerking you upright. He spins you around and grabs the back of your head, possessing your mouth with his.

Your arms wrap around his neck as he kisses you, his tongue invading your mouth. You return his kiss as he grabs your ass, lifting you onto the table, opening your legs and moving between them. He shrugs out of his suit jacket and continues the kiss, loosening his tie before removing it. Your fingers fumble with his shirt buttons, undoing them quickly, eager to get him shirtless. You pull his shirt off of his shoulders and throw it across the room. Then unbutton his pants, pushing them down, freeing his raging hard on. He steps out of them and moves them out of the way.

Bucky’s hand slips up your dress, he moans as he finds you bare pussy, wet and ready. He pulls you to your feet and reaches around to the back of your dress to undo the zipper, slipping it down your arms and watching it fall to the floor below you. He lifts you back onto the table and kicks the dress away, his hands caressing your breasts as he kisses you again.

He pushes you onto your back and kneels, coming face to face with your dripping cunt. He blows gently, making you sigh in pleasure, then kisses your inner thighs. Before placing his entire mouth over your mound, sucking hard. You moan and groan, your head rolling side to side as you play with your breasts.

Bucky releases your pussy from his mouth and licks his lips. He opens you up with his fingers and flicks his tongue over your hard bud. “Ohhhhh... fuck!” You moan out, as his tongue continues it’s relentless flicking over your clit. You can feel an orgasm building deep inside you, your pussy creaming at the thought of an orgasm. He takes your clit between his lips and sucks, gently flicking his tongue over your bean. Your hand reaches down and grabs the back of Bucky’s head, grinding your pussy on his face, chasing your orgasm. It hits hard, making your hips jerk involuntarily and your toes curl. You ride the waves of pleasure, body convulsing in climax, his tongue still licking as the spasms subside.

Bucky stands, evidence of your orgasm running down his chin. You sit up and pull him to you, kissing him passionately, tasting yourself on his kiss.

You jump down off the table, your juices running down your legs as you kneel in front of him. Licking the precum off of his cock, then lifting his cock up to lick from his balls up the underside of his cock to the tip and back down again. You repeat that three times before taking his cock in your mouth, taking it to the back of your throat. His hand grips the back of your head and holds you in place as he shoves his cock in and out of your mouth. He groans as you suck his cock, he grabs ahold of your hair and pulls you to your feet.

Bucky spins you around, bending you over the table and wets the tip of his cock with your slick before sliding inside you. He grabs your hips and begins moving in and out. Your breasts are pressed against the table, hands splayed out in front of you as his hips thrust hard, he grunts as you use your inner muscles to squeeze around his cock.

That releases Bucky’s inner beast and he reaches out with his left hand to grab your hair, pulling you back into him hard. His right hand spanking your ass, leaving red hand prints as his relentless fucking almost splits you in two. You moan again and again as he pounds you, he reaches around to grab you throat making you cum hard around his cock. He chokes you as his fucking becomes primal, you can tell he’s seconds away from coming.

“Fuck me Sir!” You shout, he growls as his orgasm hits and he shoots his load into you, before it drips out and onto the conference room floor.

He turns your head to kiss you, breathing hard. “Well... that was unexpected”

You giggle. “Yes it was Sir” He spins you around and pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your back. Compared to how he just fucked you, this was intimate, sweet.

“I’d like to do that again if you’re interested.” He says as he places a kiss on your forehead.

“Now?” You ask.

“No not right now, but again. And again.” He says as he bends to pick up his pants and your dress. He throws your dress onto the table next to you.

“We really shouldn’t!” You reply, “Even if I really want to.” He smiles and get begins to get dressed. You sit on the table and watch him before starting to get dressed yourself.

“I’ve changed my mind...” Bucky says. You sigh, disappointed. “Yes now” You look confused. “I’m going to fuck you again, right now!” He grabs the dress out of your hands and throws it to the end of the table and steps between your legs. He grabs your head and kisses you deeply as he spears your still dripping pussy with his cock.

You let out a moan, he grabs your arms and wraps them around his neck, then your legs around his waist.

“Hold on tight!” He says as he begins thrusting his hips hard, making you bounce off the table. He kisses you passionately as he pounds into you, chasing his orgasm...

TO BE CONTINUED

Tags: @jobean12-blog @eddiesprincess86 @bettyfrommars @pattiemac1 @jadeylovesmarvelxo @existenciosa

[thegirlnextdoorssister]

Hello! Long time no talk.

So, I have hopped on the dating app train. Any tips and tricks yall may have would be greatly appreciated. 

[thecubanator2]

I’m a sucker for a good nickname

Cuffing Season

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x f!assistant!reader (any race)

WC: 6.3k

Summary: Happy birthday, Mr. Barnes

Warnings: boss/assistant dynamic, swearing, pet names [Sir, little dove], oral (f receiving), smut (p in v), mentions of alcohol (everyone is of age!)

A/N: This one has been in the works for a while, originally i'd wanted to post it on Bucky's birthday but that didn't work out :/ anyhoo... I hope you enjoy it!! Please let me know what you think <3

main masterlist | one shot masterlist

You’re never late; it’s one of your best qualities. It’s honestly part of the reason Mr. Barnes had hired you even though some of the other applicants had more experience. As the assistant to the CEO, your days are filled with coffee runs, phone calls, and lots of ‘yes sirs,’ but you certainly don’t mind. It’s a good job, pays well, and Mr. Barnes is incredibly easy on the eyes.

You set down a fresh cup of coffee on Mr. Barnes’s desk precisely one minute before he’s supposed to arrive. He’d never asked you to do it, but the first time you left the coffee for him and saw that smile he barely ever shows off, you knew you’d have to do it every morning. It’s the highlight of your day.

The ding of the elevator startles you, and you scamper out of your boss’s office just as the doors slide open, revealing the mountain of a man you work for. His hair is clipped short and tight. His clothes fit perfectly; you’ve never seen this man not looking his best. You sit down at your desk outside his office and type away at your computer, playing the game you do every morning with him. You pretend like you don’t know where the coffee comes from, and he pretends to be surprised.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes,” you say brightly. It’s 7 AM, and before getting this job, you’d never been a morning person. A lot can change when people are properly motivated.

“Good morning, Dove,” he replies, looking up from his phone for just a moment to meet your eyes. The nickname had taken you by surprise the first time he said it, but now it rolls off his tongue so easily, and you can’t deny the effect it has on you.

You spin around in your chair to peek through the window in his office, watching as Mr. Barnes picks up the coffee cup you’d left on his desk. He smiles down at it and shakes his head. He does this every morning.

“Excuse me, miss?” A nasally voice calls from a few feet away. Instantly you know who it is, and any happiness watching Mr. Barnes had brought you evaporates. You spin back around in your chair and find Patricia, the head of Finances, tapping her foot on the other side of your desk. She knows your name; you’ve worked for Mr. Barnes for two years now. She just chooses not to call you by it. It’s probably a way for her to feel more powerful than you, you think.

“How can I help you, Patricia?” You ask sweetly. She cringes and rolls her eyes, continuing to tap her foot.

“Production and Marketing just dropped off these reports. Please give them to James and make sure he gets my note.” On top of the two report folders is a hot pink post-it note with frilly writing on it. You take the folders from Patricia and smile at her instead of responding to what she’s said. She walks away, heels clicking on the floor.

You glance down at the note and find exactly what you always do. Patricia has been trying to seduce Mr. Barnes for longer than you’ve worked for him, and you can see why she’s been so unsuccessful. Her flirtatious notes are lackluster and just uncreative. You want to crumple the note and throw it out, but Mr. Barnes has told you not to interfere with his business, so you don’t.

After checking that he’s not on the phone, you knock on his office door a few times. He grunts that you can come in, and you gently open the door. Over the past two years of working for Mr. Barnes, you’ve picked up on what bothers him. He hates when people throw his door open or slam it shut. He hates when people wear too strong of perfume or cologne. He hates cold coffee but only drinks tea iced.

“I have reports from Marketing and Production for you, Mr. Barnes. Patricia just dropped them off along with a note for you on top.” You set them down on an empty spot on his desk, and you catch him rolling his eyes when he sees the pink note Patricia left.

“Is this one as bad as the others?” He asks, peeling the note off the folder. You stifle a little laugh knowing you shouldn’t be reading them, but it’s hard to keep your curiosity at bay.

“Honestly, it’s not as bad as the last one, certainly less graphic.” Mr. Barnes snorts out a laugh and pulls out a folder from his desk. When he flips it open, you see all of Patricia’s notes from the past few years stuck in there. Mr. Barnes adds the newest note and tosses the folder back into the drawer he grabbed it from.

“Thank you for bringing these in, Dove.” You take note that he’s nearly done with the coffee you’d brought him earlier. You’ll make sure to get him his tea soon.

“Of course, Sir.” You give him a smile and a nod, then turn around to start heading out when you remember he has a few new meetings today. “Oh, and also–”

“Why don’t you call me James?” He asks, tilting his head slightly. A hint of a grin sits on his face, and you bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from smiling at it.

“Because you are the CEO, and I am your lowly servant,” you reply with a teasing tone. Sometimes, on days you’re feeling bold, you joke around with Mr. Barnes. And sometimes, when he’s feeling generous, he teases you right back.

“My lowly servant, huh?” You nod and raise your eyebrows as if it’s the only truth you’ve ever known. “Well then, what did my lowly servant need to tell me?” You lose the battle with yourself and smile like an idiot at him.

“You have a meeting with Mr. Rogers at noon and with Mr. Banner at three. They both called to confirm, and I told them you’d email them ASAP.” Mr. Barnes nods, and you see the glint in his blue eyes. It means he’s up to something. You’d think that after two years, you’d be better at figuring out what he’s planning, but Mr. Barnes is the most confusing and elusive man on the planet.

“Thank you, Dove.” You flash him another smile, then sit back down at your desk. Though you do your work, your thoughts cling to the look in Mr. Barnes’s eye. What did it mean?

Your question remains unanswered as the week goes on. It isn’t until Friday rolls around that you get some sort of answer. Your desk phone rings, and the sound pulls you from the email you were reading.

“Good afternoon, you’ve reached the office of James Barnes. How can I help you today?” You scribble your pen on a pad of paper to get the ink flowing when you hear the familiar voice of Steve Rogers on the other end. Steve has been a long-time partner of the company and a lifelong friend of Mr. Barnes. He stops by frequently and always brings you a bagel from the shop down the street.

“Dove! Just the girl I was lookin’ for.” You laugh a little but listen as he continues. “So, as you probably know, it’s the big guy’s birthday on Wednesday. ” Actually, you didn’t know that. In the two years you’d worked for Mr. Barnes, he’d never mentioned his birthday. Other people had celebrations at the office, but never the CEO. You’d tried stalking him on social media, but he was nowhere to be found. Even Google didn’t have the info.

“Oh, wow, no, I didn’t know,” you say, guiltily chewing on one of your nails.

“Honestly that doesn’t surprise me, Buck hates celebrating. But, this is a big one so I’m not giving him a choice. Since the man never takes off work, we can’t celebrate on Wednesday so I’m thinking Saturday. Can you clear up his schedule and get him to the party?” You flounder for a second, unsure how to respond. You glance down at the calendar in front of you when Mr. Barnes swings his office door open.

“Dove, is that a call for me?”

“Uh, no– I mean–” You feel sweat beading on the back of your neck. “Um, Sir? Are you still there? I can do that. That works for me. Thanks!” Without waiting for a response from Steve, you slam the phone down into the receiver and act as natural as possible.

“Are you okay?” Mr. Barnes asks, taking another step toward your desk. “You never get that flustered on the phone, is something going on?” You’re surprised he’s noticed how good you are on the phone normally.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” you say, trying to sound chipper to compensate for how clearly nervous you are. “Just feeling kind of out of it, is all.” Mr. Barnes nods, but you can tell he doesn’t believe you.

“Okay, just let me know if you need anything.” You force a smile, and it’s tight on your face. He doesn’t buy it.

“Of course, thank you, Sir”

"Call me James, Dove. How many times do I have to ask?” His words are teasing, but you can tell he's really asking.

“One more time, please, Mr. Barnes” He rolls his eyes at you, and once he's in the elevator, you give yourself a pat on the back for your banter.

You quickly go through Mr. Barnes’s schedule and confirm that Saturday is wide open. Then, you shoot Steve an email. Your final task for the day is to find him the perfect gift, but what do you buy the man who already has everything?

When you walk into the office Wednesday morning, you're full of nerves. You make sure to arrive extra early to set up the few birthday items you've brought. You certainly wouldn't call them decorations, Mr. Barnes is a no-nonsense man, and you imagine he doesn't like balloons and streamers.

First, you set down his coffee, making sure the "happy birthday" note you'd left on it faces his desk chair. Then, you tuck the birthday card you'd written into his planner. Finally, you place your gift on his organizer's 'in' shelf. The box is small and wrapped in plain navy blue paper, a thin white ribbon tied into a simple bow sits on top. You haven't put your name on anything you've brought. You never tell him when you go out of your way to do things for him. Why start now?

You glance at your watch and see that Mr. Barnes will be arriving in a few minutes, so you make your way back out to your desk. An email from Steve pops into your inbox detailing the plans for Saturday. You cringe a little bit, remembering what you'd agreed to do, but Steve seems pretty excited, so hopefully, it'll all be worth it.

Somehow, you have to wrangle Mr. Barnes and deliver him to his surprise party at a restaurant on Saturday. How are you going to do this? You're not sure yet.

You begin typing out a response to Steve when Mr. Barnes's familiar heavy footsteps make their way toward you. "Good morning, Dove," he says in his usual tone. You give him a friendly smile and try not to give away your excitement.

"Good morning, Sir." The second his office door swings shut, you swivel around and watch his reaction to your surprise. After the first sip of his coffee, Mr. Barnes looks at the cup and sees the note. He doesn't smile like you expect him to. Instead, his brow furrows, and he shakes his head a little.

Shit.

Then, he pulls his planner out of the drawer and flips it open to today, March 10. Your card catches his attention, and as he reads it, the crease between his eyebrows fades just a bit. The sparkle in his eyes returns, but again no smile.

Finally, he notices the gift box. You weren't sure about it when you'd bought it, and now seeing his reaction to everything else, you have half a mind to snatch it out of his fingers before he opens it.

You don't take it from him. Instead, you watch as he carefully tears open the paper. He opens the velvet box and stares down at your gift—two custom engraved cufflinks. You'd seen them in the store window and were instantly drawn to them. The shop owner let you do the engraving for free, and you couldn't say no.

Mr. Barnes pulls the silver cufflinks from the protective satin and runs his fingers over them. It'd been easy to come up with what to engrave them with, though now you're having some doubts. They read, "Till the end of the line,' You've heard the stories from Steve about how Mr. Barnes had said that since childhood, then it eventually became the unofficial slogan for the company.

He must feel your eyes on him because suddenly Mr. Barnes's blue eyes shoot up to meet yours. You've been caught, and you can't really pretend like you hadn't been staring. The look he gives you sends shivers down your spine; you feel frozen.

You fight against that feeling and turn back to your desk. Though you can still feel his eyes on you, you focus on your emails and any messages that have been left overnight. Once you hear him shuffling around in his office, you finally relax a bit. Your thoughts swim with doubt about if you should've gotten him the present, but the damage has already been done.

The phone on your desk rings, and when you glance down at the name of the caller, Mr. Barnes' extension flashes back at you. You pick up the phone and try not to sound too nervous. "Yes, Sir?" You ask timidly.

"I'm going home for the day. Reschedule my meetings." He hangs up and a minute later, storms out of the office. He doesn't even say goodbye.

Saturday comes sooner than you’re ready for, and you’re more stressed than ever. Mr. Barnes didn’t come to work the rest of the week; no one had heard from him. You’d called Steve to see if you still had to get Mr. Barnes to the party, and despite your attempts to get out of it, Steve insisted.

You park across the street from Mr. Barnes' building and lean your forehead against the car window, staring up at the top floor. He lives in the penthouse, but he owns the whole building. It took you all day yesterday to come up with your plan to get Mr. Barnes to his party, but now, sitting outside, you’re not sure if it’ll work.

After glancing at your phone quickly to check the time, you know it’s now or never. You clamber somewhat ungracefully out of your car and into the building. The receptionist gives you a look as you walk straight to the elevator bank, but you ignore her and press the button to call the lift.

The penthouse button taunts you as it flashes, your heart beats in your throat as the elevator rises up up up to your inevitable doom. When did you become so pessimistic? Mr. Barnes isn’t that bad; he’s always been kind to you. There’s nothing to worry about.

The elevator dings, and the chrome doors slide open to reveal a sleek black door. It’s the only place to go, so you step in front of it. The door, too, seems to mock you; you can see your reflection in the paint. You look timid, meek. How are you supposed to get Mr. Barnes to go to a party he obviously doesn’t want to attend? He seemed to have hated your birthday gift. Will he even open the door for you ? There’s only one way to find out.

You knock three times.

Silence. Shit.

“Mr. Barnes?” You call, knocking a few more times. “Mr. Barnes, it’s me. Are you available?” You hear a slight noise from the other side of the door, and your heart speeds up a bit. The door swings open, and there he is.

Mr. Barnes stands in front of you in all his shirtless glory. Your eyes trail down his shoulders, chest, and abs, but before they can reach the waistband of his sweatpants, you snap out of it.

“Why are you here?” He asks, leaning against the door frame. His sweatpants hang low on his hips, showing off the V of his lower abs. Your mouth waters but you scold yourself. You’re not here to ogle your boss. You’re here to get him to his secret birthday party that he is sure to hate.

“There’s an emergency,” you say, twisting your fingers together behind your back. It was the only plan you could come up with, and as the words leave your mouth, you know how silly it sounds.

“An emergency,” he repeats. Mr. Barnes lets his eyes roam your figure, you’re not dressed for work, but you’re not quite dressed for the party either. You didn’t want to tip him off to your plan, so you’re wearing a black skirt that’s a bit shorter than you’d normally choose for work and your favorite blue blouse that hugs your figure. “You don’t look dressed for an emergency,” he adds, his eyes flicking back up to yours.

“Well, it’s the weekend,” you reply pitifully. “May I come in?” You ask as you push past him and step into the penthouse. It’s bold of you. You’re never bold around him. The space is huge, you can’t imagine how much it would cost to rent it. You stride toward the couch and try to ignore the feeling of Mr. Barnes’ piercing blue eyes on your back.

“What’s gotten into you, Dove?” He mumbles as you sit on his couch. You cross your legs and fold your hands in your lap while Mr. Barnes sits beside you, reaching an arm along the back of the sofa. This wasn’t part of your plan. You turn to face him and force your eyes to stay trained on his.

“I got a call from HR. They need you to make an appearance today. It’s urgent.” You hate the way your voice wavers on the lie; you’ve never been able to lie to Mr. Barnes. He huffs a laugh and smirks. He knows you’re hiding something. His fingers twitch as they shift down the couch and to your hair. He twirls a lock of it gently, and your breaths shudder.

“You’ve never been good at lyin’, little Dove,” he says in a gravelly voice that sends shivers down your spine. His fingers continue to twirl in your hair, making it harder for you to focus on your plan.

“Well, I have no idea why you would say that, Mr. Barnes. Now, I must insist that you come with me to the location so you can get the situation under control.” You stand abruptly and wobble on your heels. One of his hands shoots out to stable you, strong fingers gripping your waist.

“Oh, if you insist, Dove,” he says teasingly. He doesn’t stand; he just holds you and stares. Mr. Barnes looks at you like he could devour you, like a predator stalking its prey. You let out a shaky breath, but he still doesn’t join you.

“Please,” you say quietly. Your boss shifts on the couch, spreading his legs slightly. His sweatpants are tighter around his thighs, leaving little to the imagination. He looks incredible. “Please.” It’s pitiful that you’re begging Mr. Barnes to show up to his own birthday, but you can’t stop yourself.

Mr. Barnes smirks up at you from the couch, and you swear your heart stops beating. He’s still holding onto your waist, and without thinking, you rest your hands on his wrists, holding onto him. He rises, standing at his full height, and towers over you.

In the light of his apartment, his blue eyes look brighter than ever. They shine like glass, mirrors reflecting the image of yourself back to you. You’re trapped, he’s caught you, but even though everything inside you is screaming at you, you don’t mind.

You’ve always thought Mr. Barnes was attractive, you have eyes for christ-sake, but you never thought you’d act on anything. And it’s so much more than his looks. It’s his sense of humor, his personality. The way he takes care of everyone around him while maintaining his grumpy persona. It’s the kindness in his eyes, his smile lines, his mind.

“What’re you thinking about, Dove,” he asks, a small smile on his lips. He smells amazing, pine and sandalwood filling your nose. It makes your head fuzzy, your knees weak.

“That we’re gonna be late,” you say, not fighting the haze that overtakes your head. Mr. Barnes’ hands leave your waist and trail up your body, up your arms, until they find your face. He stands, cupping your cheeks, fingers reaching back into your hair, thumbs rubbing circles on your skin.

“No such thing as late when you’re the boss, Dove,” he replies, wetting his bottom lip. The boss. It’s not like you hadn’t thought about it, about Mr. Barnes clearing his desk to sit you on top of it. You’ve thought about his hands on you, exploring your skin. The way his lips might feel on your neck.

You feel the slightest amount of pressure from his hands, and it’s enough to bring you back to the present, out of your thoughts. You suck in a deep breath but just get a head full of his incredible smell.

“Mr. Barnes, I–”

“Can I ask you something?” He whispers, breath fanning out on your face.

You nod.

“Let me kiss you.” You must be dreaming. This isn’t happening. His fingers rub your cheeks, his calloused skin screaming that no, you’re not dreaming. This is real, and oh fuck it’s happening.

“That’s not a question.” Your voice barely above a whisper.

“Let me try again.” He tilts your head up so you have nowhere to run and leans in, pressing his lips to yours. Mr. Barnes tastes like coffee and something sweet, like chocolate. He’s warm and welcoming, but there’s power in his kiss. That power makes you clench your thighs; it makes butterflies explode in your lower belly.

“James,” you say with a shuddering breath when he pulls away to breathe. It’s the first time you’ve called him that, and judging by the smirk on his lips, he likes it.

“Fuck, Dove, you can’t do that to me.” He shifts, and you feel his erection brush against your front. The idea that you turn him on, that he feels the way you do, makes you want him even more.

James shifts his hands and lifts you, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your hands hook around the back of his neck, and he looks up at you with a devastating smile. He nips at your collarbone, where it’s exposed by your blouse. His hands grip your waist and ass with strong hands. Despite having a desk job, James keeps up his strength. You can feel his abs beneath your core, providing the perfect friction, but it’s not quite enough.

“James,” you mumble against his lips, nipping slightly at them. He’s a damn good kisser, better than you ever imagined.

“Say it again, baby,” he mumbles, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth.

“James,” this time, it comes out a moan. He kisses you lifeless, stealing your breath from your lungs. He kisses away your worries, your thoughts of the surprise party, the stress of work. James groans and shifts you to grind your core against his shirtless abs, and you swear your soul leaves your body.

“I fuckin’ love it when you say my name, but you know what’d be even better?” James walks the two of you over to his couch and sits so you’re straddling him as he sits upright. You shake your head in response. You’re not sure anything could be better than this.

“No, I don’t, Sir,” you say, using his title without realizing it. James groans, and his head lolls back against the couch.

“You can call me that, or you could call me Bucky.” Bucky. You’ve only ever heard Mr. Rogers and Mr. Wilson call him that, never anyone else.

“Bucky.” It feels good on your tongue; it sounds sweet in your ears.

“You can call me that any time, okay little Dove? I fuckin’ love the way you say it.” He attaches his lips to your neck, kissing you sweetly. He nips at the skin, biting it gently, causing you to moan.

“Bucky,” your voice surprises you, but it spurs Bucky on. His hands wander down your body, caressing each inch, every curve. He fingers the buttons on your blouse and flicks them open to expose your bra. It’s black, nothing fancy, but the way he stares, it’s like you’re wearing the most expensive lingerie.

“Holy fuck,” he moans, palming your chest with his large hands. You lean into the touch, encouraging him. Bucky smiles; it’s a mischievous thing full of ideas for you. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

You glance down at Bucky, the way he looks at you; no one’s ever looked at you like that. No one’s ever called you perfect. He looks at you like he’s never seen anything like you.

“No,” you reply, letting your hands travel up and down his arms.

“Well, then I’m never gonna shut up about how fucking gorgeous you are, pretty girl. You were made for me.” He captures your lips again, and his hands grip your hips. You take the lead, gently grinding against his crotch. The friction on your clit makes you buzz with energy, but it’s not enough. You need more.

“Bucky,” you groan, but he understands. He presses harder against you, moving with you in perfect time.

“Gettin’ greedy, pretty girl, you want more?” He taunts in a sugary sweet voice.

“Please, Bucky,” you beg, digging your nails into his shoulders.

“I love when you say that.” He flips the two of you over and lays you down on the couch, your head resting on the cushions. Bucky rests himself on top of you, kissing you and feeling you. It’s almost too much; your brain is screaming at you to do something, anything to help you with the need for him.

It’s like he can read your mind. Bucky begins to shift himself down off the couch, so he’s kneeling in front of you. Your breath catches in your throat; you’ve never seen him like this.

He parts your legs, settling between them, and leans down to where you need him most. Bucky’s fingers gently push your panties to the side. It’s like he’s in a trance. His eyes flash to yours, and you know you’re a goner.

Electricity shoots through your body when he brings his lips to your clit. You relax into the plush couch and let your eyes fall shut. Bucky is a fucking expert, and it’s honestly unfair that you’ve had to wait this long to find out. He works you up easily, finding all the right spots that make you go crazy. Your fingers reach into his hair, tugging it lightly. He groans, spurring you on.

“Holy shit, Bucky,” you moan, curling your toes. He holds your legs open with his hands, but you know if he wasn’t, they’d be wrapped around his head. A moment later, you’re on the edge, the band in your belly is about to snap, and you chant his name like a prayer, begging him to keep going.

He doesn’t let up. His fingers dig into your skin as yours scratch his scalp. When you come, it’s intense, it’s all-encompassing, and you swear you blackout for a second. Bucky litters kisses along your thighs and abdomen as you come down from the high, letting his hands wander and soothe you.

Eventually, Bucky pulls away, and you whine at his absence. “So fuckin’ beautiful, baby,” he says with a grin, licking his lips. “I’ve never seen anyone like you.” You stare at him, and it’s like you’re seeing him for the first time. His smile is so genuine, and it fits his face perfectly. You can now see that lines on his face that you’d once thought are from being broody are actually from his smile. You’ve just never seen the real thing before.

“I need you,” you whisper vulnerably. Bucky’s eyes soften, and he crawls on top of you and kisses you deeply.

“Music to my fuckin’ ears, Dove,” he mumbles against your lips. He kisses down your neck before pulling away and digging through his coffee table until he pulls out a condom. You watch him unabashedly as he rids himself of the rest of his clothes and rolls on the condom. He does the entire thing with a smile, watching you watch him.

Bucky leans back down, positioning himself between your legs. His cock lays heavy on your abdomen, and you suck in a breath.

“Please,” you whisper, staring up at Bucky’s bright blue eyes. He kisses your forehead, breathing you in. He leans his forehead against yours and lines his cock up with your pussy.

“Fuck, Dove, need you so bad.” You nod, and he presses himself into you. You dig your fingernails into his shoulders, leaving tiny crescent moons in his skin.

“Bucky,” you shutter. Your mind is void of coherent thought; all you can think about is Bucky pressing himself into you, of how it feels to have him all over you.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, Dove,” he says through gritted teeth. When he’s fully seated inside of you, you feel like you’re about to split in half. He’s big, bigger than you’ve ever had and you’re honestly surprised he fit.

“Oh my god, Bucky,” you moan, resisting the urge to wiggle your hips. The way he’s pressing into you, you can’t tell where you start and he ends.

“Made for me,” he whispers as he sets his pace. He thrusts hard and deep; you can practically feel him in your throat. “So perfect, Dove.” Bucky kisses you before moving one of his hands down to where your bodies meet, finding your clit easily. He rubs slow, languid circles despite the pace he’s set.

Bucky is gorgeous like this. In the office, he keeps all his emotions locked away; he’s stoic and grumpy. Now, he shows you everything. His brow is furrowed with concentration; he bites his lips as he pounds into you.

He hits spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed, taking you closer and closer to your peak. Your hands scrape up Bucky’s back, feeling the rippling muscles below his skin. His strength amazes you and makes you want to explore more of him.

You can tell Bucky is close by the way his hips start to stutter, losing pace. You’re nearly there as well, and you tell Bucky as much, begging him to not stop, to please keep going. He doesn’t slow down, but he fucks you harder, deeper, than before. He leans down and kisses you, it’s all teeth and tongue, but it’s perfect.

You come when he bites your lip, it sends you flying over the edge, and you practically scream. Bucky comes too; he holds you tightly to himself as you both recover.

Your phone rings loudly from wherever you’d dropped it earlier, and it startles both you and Bucky. He pushes himself up off of you despite your protests, but you know you need to answer the phone.

Bucky chuckles to himself as you find the offending electronic and answer the call. Mr. Rogers’ contact flashes on the screen, and your eyes go wide. You’re so so late.

“Hello,” you say, holding the phone between your cheek and shoulder. You try to gather your clothes, but Bucky has already done that for you.

“Where are you?” Mr. Rogers asks, sounding a little frantic. You mouth thank you to Bucky and dress without dropping the phone.

“Sorry, traffic,” you lie, buttoning up your blouse. “We’ll be there in a few minutes.” Mr. Rogers sighs loudly on the other side, but there’s not much you can do about it now. How did you let this situation get so out of hand? You don’t regret it, not one bit, but maybe you could’ve chosen a better time to have the best sex of your life.

“Okay, please get here quick. People are getting antsy.” Your stomach turns; this isn’t going well.

“Of course.” Mr. Rogers hangs up, and you finish dressing frantically, your nerves about the party suddenly returning.

“What was that about?” Bucky asks, wearing only his boxers. Your mouth waters as you look at him, but you know you can’t get distracted again.

“Oh, uh, HR. We’re late,” you flounder, attempting to keep eye contact with Bucky while lying. He raises a suspicious eyebrow at you but nods. Maybe he bought it this time.

“I’ll get dressed then we can go,” he says, kissing your cheek before heading to his room to dress. You let out a big breath and check your messages, finding that Mr. Rogers had texted you four times before calling. You’re definitely going to be in trouble when you and Bucky arrive at the party.

A few moments later, Bucky strolls out of his room in his usual PR outfit; a nice suit, tie, and dress shoes. He fiddles with the cuffs on his shirt, and you shove your phone into your purse, now isn’t the time to stress about something you no longer have control over.

“I’ll drive,” you say quickly before he can object. Again, Bucky nods.

The venue of Bucky’s surprise party is a restaurant 10 minutes from his place. You get there quickly, and the second you pull into the parking lot, Bucky shakes his head.

“What?” You ask, pulling your keys out of the ignition. The two of you get out of the car and begin to walk toward the entrance. You shoot Mr. Rogers a quick ‘we’re here’ text and say a little prayer that people are still there after the wait.

“Nothin’ Dove,” he says, resting a hand on your lower back. When you walk into the restaurant, the hostess welcomes the two of you and walks you to the back of the building. She opens the door to the large party space, and you’re greeted by a room full of people shouting, “Surprise!”

Bucky rolls his eyes and laughs a little, then glances down at you at his side. He squeezes your waist. You’d expected him to let go by now.

“Thanks, everyone,” he says, running his other hand through his hair. Mr. Rogers pushes through the crowd and claps Bucky on the back.

“Happy birthday, Buck,” he shouts, handing Bucky a beer. Mr. Rogers moves to hug you, and you return the gesture, though Bucky’s hand remains on you. “That’s new,” he says, pointing to the point of contact.

You stare up at Mr. Rogers, not sure how to respond, but Bucky smiles.

“Been a long time coming,” Bucky says gently, letting his eyes roam your face. Steve laughs and squeezes your shoulder before heading out to keep talking to the other party-goers.

The party is in full swing, and as you mingle, you start to relax. Bucky makes his way to each person and thanks them for coming even though he doesn’t like celebrating his birthday. After people have given all their birthday toasts, Bucky finds his way back to you. As you’re about to ask how he’s doing, Steve suggests that Bucky say a few words.

Bucky begrudgingly raises his glass, and everyone does the same.

“If you know me, you know I don’t like my birthday. But, if you know Steve, you know he doesn’t care. Thanks, Stevie, for the party; here’s to it being the last.” On that morbid note, everyone drinks from their glasses. You watch as Bucky drinks, and something flashes near his wrist. He’s wearing the cufflinks you bought him.

“I thought you didn’t like ‘em,” you say, catching his wrist. You thumb over the cufflink, feeling the tiny engraved words.

“What? Why?” Bucky furrows his brow, watching you fiddle with his wrist.

“Your reaction, I just thought you didn’t like them.” Bucky flips his hand so he’s holding yours, calloused skin rough against you.

“I was just surprised, is all,” he says gently. “I don’t like celebrating my birthday, and when I saw you’d gotten me a gift, I knew something was up. I went to talk to Steve to try to get him to cancel the party, but he wouldn’t listen. The cufflinks are beautiful, and I love what they say. It’s the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever gotten, Dove. Probably my favorite thing I’ve gotten for my birthday.”

Bucky’s eyes are soft. You sink into them and nearly get lost.

“I’m glad you like them,” you whisper, squeezing his hand.

“I love em.” A wide smile spreads across your face and soon, Bucky wears one as well. It suits him.

“Happy Birthday, Mr. Barnes,” you say, teasing him a little. Bucky rolls his eyes and kisses your forehead.

“You know, I actually take it back. My favorite thing I’ve gotten for my birthday, hands down, has to be the little stunt you pulled back at my place.” You feel yourself getting turned on at his admission, at the mischievous grin he flashes as he speaks.

“Really?” You ask, trying not to make how much you want him too obvious.

“Really, Dove. The sounds you make, the way you taste, the feeling of your pussy gripping the fuck out of my cock. There’s nothin’ better.” You sway on your heels, leaning into Bucky.

“Shit,” you mutter, feeling your arousal increasing.

“Why don’t you let me have another taste? How’s that sound, dove?” He asks, taunting you.

“Please.”

“If it’s always gonna be like this, I think I might just have to start celebrating my birthday again,” Bucky says on a laugh, guiding you toward the bathroom. “Happy birthday to me.”

please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in my future works! must be 18+

@peaches1958 @prettylittlepluviophile @writerwrites @w0nderw0mansw0rld @haws3x @meetmeatyourworst @cwbucky

[hollyseb]

BARTENDER (PART 2)

You need to make ends meet. How far are you willing to go?

Mob! Bucky x reader

Part 1 can be found here: https://www.tumblr.com/hollyseb/737816177450041344/bartender-part-1

AN; thank you for all the love on part 1!

Warnings: drinking, gun violence, references to the mob, blood, MINORS DNI

Summary; bartending for an elite club to make ends meet. you don’t realise you’ve stumbled into the lair of Bucky Barnes.

He paid for my fee? What the fuck?

Now you knew something was up. First the staring, and now this. Your head was reeling with questions as you made your way inside your apartment, gently closing the door. He is just taking care of one of his employees.

Slipping into your pajamas and flicking the kettle on, you decided to attempt to unwind from your night. Everything was fine until this man decided to act all unpredictable.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky couldn’t be any more pleased that you had accepted a ride from one of his drivers. You hadn’t questioned how the driver had started heading in the direction of your apartment block before you had revealed your address. He hoped you were flattered by the lift.

He wasn’t used to this. To pursuing his women. Most would flock to him, laying down at his feet. Providing nothing but a quick, cheap fuck.

When Bucky had left the club, he instantly headed to his office, shaking Steve off when he suggested he should head home.

“Steve, just leave me”, Bucky sighed as Steve reluctantly let his friend out of his grip. He could see the blaze in Bucky’s eyes, the focus in his upper body. There was no stopping him when he was like this, this drive was how he had risen through the ranks of the mob so ruthlessly.

Bucky sat in his office chair. He’d received your name and address from Sam, and Steve had found your social media sites. He grinned when he told his driver your address, having to hold himself back from scoping out the apartment block, but his grin grew even more when he opened your social media accounts. A couple pictures of you smiling with Nat, one from your graduation, and none with a boyfriend. He wasn’t expecting that.

You were so different. He found himself wondering about you, pondering your past and how you’d come to work at one of his clubs. He wondered if you knew what you were getting yourself in for, the people you were working for. Part of him wanted to tell you to run while you could, to turn your back and never return, but another part of him felt glad. Signing the contract to bartend his club was the perfect entanglement of your lives. He always got what he wanted.

When you arrived at the club the next night, he made sure to request you to serve his drinks.

When Nat told you the news, that he wanted you to deliver his drinks, you felt your face scrunch. Why me? You didn’t want a repeat of yesterday's events, so you told Nat to help you reapply your lipgloss, and attempt to give you some form of a pep talk before you grabbed the tray of five straight whiskeys.

“He wouldn’t ask you to serve his drinks if he didn’t think you were a good server. Now pucker your lips-” Nat explained absentmindedly.

“It’s just so weird. I mean, it was so awkward yesterday”

“Maybe he likes that?” You giggled. No way. Nevertheless, you appreciated Nat’s efforts to calm your nerves.

She continued, “well I know plenty of women would pay to serve him so…”, she elbowed you, referencing his good looks.

“Nat. That just makes it worse! He’s hot and he knows it, and he knows I know it-“, you rambled.

“And maybe he finds you hot”, you couldn't help but roll your eyes at that, as your best friend handed the tray of drinks to you.

Deep breath. He’s just a man. You’ve got this.

Heading up the stairs to the secluded room again, you felt a little shaky. As you drew the curtain back, the same silence fell over the room. It was all the same men from last night, the tall blond one, the dark skinned one, one sitting in a red suit and the long haired brunette.

You spoke first. Surprising yourself at that. “H-hello. I just wanted to thank you for the ride home last night… and also I have five whiskeys.”

The man at the head of the table let out an exhale, shaking his hair away from his face, “it was no problem honey. There will be one waiting outside for you tonight too.”

You were taken aback. A small, but grateful smile gracing your face. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“That’s… really kind of you, thank you. I’ll find a way to pay you back.”

“Ah-ah-ah”, Bucky tsked, standing up from his chair. God, he is massive. So tall. So broad. Your head craned to look up at him. Your stomach was flipping at his comment, “you won’t pay me back for anything”, he grabbed the tray from your hands, fingers brushing yours.

You sent him a smile, opening your mouth to wish him a thank you before leaving. You left the room with your hands shaking.

Bucky was obsessed with the way he made you nervous, and the way your dress cinched your waist. He saw everything. The way your hands shook when he brushed your fingers, the way your eyes lit up when you took in his build, and the way your cheeks flushed when he let his eyes roam your figure. He felt his cock grow hard when he saw that you didn’t spare a glance to any of the other men in the room, just him. You were his. Whether you knew it or not.

You let elation carry you through the rest of the night. You spent the next few hours behind the bar, your eyes trailing to the curtained room far more often than you liked. With watching Nat flirt with the regulars, and poke you in the ribs occasionally, you felt yourself relax into your role.

That was until you heard a popping sound. Repeatedly. And then screaming.

You were paralysed. Deafened by the noise, and then the sight of masked men enclosing the club, shoving guests down, smashing glasses, and shooting their guns into the air.

Panic seized you, gripping you by the throat. Nat pulled you onto the ground harshly, your chin smacking the cold floor behind the bar.

“Just be quiet. It’s okay. They’ll be here for boss, not us”, Nat explained frantically, as if she’d experienced this before. You couldn’t breath, just wheezing in manufactured gasps, eyes wide.

“N-Nat. I’m so scared”, you felt tears pooling in your eyes as the club quietened. You could hear footsteps. Quick ones. People were leaving. You assured yourself that maybe they weren’t trying to hurt anyone.

You could hear the men approaching the bar. Oh my god, this is it. You squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to stop the scene unfolding before you.

Your whole body seizing up as you felt a hand grab your upper arm, pulling you up, holding your body against theirs. You couldn’t see who it was, and your thoughts ran at a hundred miles-per-hour. As the figure pulled you to your feet, you looked across the bar, Bucky’s associates restraining the men. Sam kicked the gun from one's hand, then pushed him into the ground. Steve had the other backed into a corner, repeatedly pounding him in the jaw.

“Shh, shh, shh. I’ve got you. Let’s go. Come on.” The voice in your ear soothed you. You recognised it as Bucky’s. He brushed your hair from your face and wiped the tears from your cheeks with his rough hand. You could hear him yell something to Steve about grabbing Nat, but the pounding in your ears began to drown him out. He was practically walking for you, your feet barely scraping the floor.

He led you to the car parked outside the back of the club. Sitting you down and pulling the seat belt across your body. He was drinking you in. Looking at your red eyes and swollen lips.

“I am so sorry, honey. I have a… couple of enemies in the city. That will never, ever happen again”, he faltered over his words, carefully picking them.

You were shell shocked. Only able to nod in a fake understanding. What the fuck had you gotten yourself into?

“Look, let me take you home”, Bucky brushed a strand of disturbed hair behind your ear, his thumb running across your bottom lip. God you look gorgeous. He was obsessed with your swollen lips and the way you were clinging to him as if he was the weight holding you to reality. He hated the situation, the imposing mob hydra infiltrating his club at a poor attempt to establish fear, but god you looked insane.

He grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb over your palm. He tried to explain, briefly, the situation. He ran a company which focused on the safety of citizens in the city. Some tried to breach that. To bring drugs, disorder and chaos in the city as a quick way to make money. You didn’t need to know all the details, he thought. He knew he was omitting information, making himself out to be the good guy. He’d done things he was ashamed of. Wronged good people. Eliminated the competition. Acted ruthlessly to own the city. But you didn't need to know that.

He was drunk on the way you were shaking in his arms. The power that he had to comfort you. He couldn’t help but smile. An open fire by the enemy mob has done nothing but bring me closer to what I want.

Bucky helped you get out of the car, walking you up to your apartment. Even after everything you’d witnessed, your boss helping you up the stairs to your flat brought you to reality. You didn’t question how he knew which floor and door to stop at.

“I-thank you for walking me back but, you should go now”, you couldn’t meet his eyes. The events of the night were catching up on you. You wanted to call Nat and lay in bed.

The tall man made you look at him, picking up your chin with his forefinger. He turned his head slightly as you locked eyes with him. You were just so gorgeous. He wanted to kiss you. But not like this. Not when you were this shocked. He wanted to make it special. Rose petals and champagne. Not like this. So he made a point to look at your chin, bloodied from hitting the ground earlier.

“At least let me clean this up”, god he was so convincing. You opened your door and let him follow you in. You grabbed your first aid kit from your bathroom, telling him to make himself comfortable.

You let him wipe your chin, and gently place a plaster over it. His free hand rubbing circles into your shoulder and the nape of your neck. It was close, sensual even. He felt his cock still at the way you closed your eyes and let your head tilt back when his thumb hit your sensitive spot. He wanted you like this all the time. Relaxed, open, and submissive. You allowed yourself to bask in his touch, and the comfort it brought. You deserve this after the day you’ve had.

“Please, come into my office tomorrow, I can’t have you coming back into work in this state. I need you to feel completely comfortable”, Bucky practically demanded. He wanted to take care of you so badly.

You breathed a sigh of relief. You could confide in him. You could ease yourself back into the club. Unaware of the undertones of comfortable.

“T-thank you Bucky. I’ll be there.” You dropped your eyes and thanked him for the care. He ran his hands down your arms before retreating towards the door. You needed this job, and you needed the money. This situation can’t change that.

You slipped into bed, questioning what exactly you would be doing with your boss tomorrow.

Meanwhile Bucky headed back to the club. There were two masked men in his basement he needed to deal with.

Next part here! https://www.tumblr.com/hollyseb/738091620032987136/the-bartender-part-3

TAGLIST

@melsunshine @scott-loki-barnes

[iamthatonefangirl]

miss possessive part 2 - congressman bucky barnes

thank you all so much for the love on part 1 of this. i love you all so much you are literally my motivation to keep writing. i hope part 2 does you all justice!

part 1

part 3

~~~

after the crash, Bucky was pissed off, to say the least. entirely at himself. 

Bucky should have sat on the passenger side, not you. he would have been completely unharmed. maybe if he’d reacted quicker, used his enhancements to pay more attention to his surroundings, then maybe you wouldn’t be in this position. 

he felt his heart drop to his stomach when he saw the blood dripping down your face after the crash. you were right next to him, within his reach all night, but he had to remind himself this wasn’t something he could have protected you from. it almost broke him. 

you were in an ambulance pretty soon after. your head hurt like a bitch; you were a little too focused on the searing pain to make out the words Bucky was saying to the first responders, telling them they had to let him ride with you in the ambulance. he was your husband, after all. 

wait, what? 

did you hear that correctly?

through the burning pain, you tried to keep a level head. it made sense that Bucky lied; it was the only way for him to come with you. but hell if it wasn’t embarrassing riding in this ambulance with him just staring at you the whole time. 

the paramedic was asking him a million questions that he didn't know the answers to. of course he didn't, he wasn't actually your husband.

you answer them.

yes, you had alcohol in your system. you’d just come from an event. how much? uncertain. 

yes, you were on medications. which ones? great, now Bucky gets to hear. 

no, no chance you’re pregnant. you’re sure. yes, you’re sure. 

“Bucky…” you mumble. 

“yes? what’s wrong?” 

“Bucky?” you repeat. okay, wow, suddenly you feel a lot worse.

the world goes dark.

~~~

to put it bluntly, this was insanely embarrassing.

the hospital staff think he's your husband, so he's allowed to stay. when you ask him to leave, he refuses to go anywhere.

hours later, after some stitches and a million scans of your head, you're left alone in the hospital bed. with Bucky still staring at you.

"you can go, you know," you tell him. "it's been a long fucking night. no reason to stay."

he grumbles under his breath, "not goin' anywhere."

you wish he would. watching him, sitting here with you in such a vulnerable state hurts your soul. he's here out of obligation. of course he cares. he would be heartless not to, and Bucky Barnes is anything but heartless.

but he doesn't care in the way you wish he would.

you wish he'd be the guy that looks for you, only you, all night at the gala. you wish he'd refuse to leave your side, never letting you out of his sight. you wish he would look at you all the time, not just when another man is taking you upstairs, not just when you've had your skull cracked.

you wish he'd be the one to whisk you away at the end of the night. you wish he had told you how pretty you looked tonight, because he's the only man you'd gotten all dolled up for.

tears spring to your eyes at the thought, so you turn back to face the ceiling and shut them before they can fall.

but he's still staring at you. he sees the change in your demeanor.

"what is it? what's wrong?" he asks, jumping to his feet to stand next to your bed.

you shake your head and lie through your teeth. "head hurts."

it's not a lie entirely, but. mostly.

you open your eyes to look at him, and he actually looks pained, as though he's the one in the hospital bed, not you. you backtrack, reassuring him that you're completely fine, it's fine, you're used to it. you're used to the pain.

suddenly, he looks confused. fuck, why are you the one complaining about your own issues? don't you remember the shit he's been through?

he's been through worse than you could ever imagine. stop fucking complaining.

"I'm fine, Mr. Barnes. go home."

he shakes his head in exasperation. you're so fucking stubborn, you know that? why won't you just let him do this for you?

he wonders a million different things. you got hurt while working for him, and he knows this isn't your ideal job, that it's only temporary. when he gets elected, he'll get a new assistant, and if he doesn't, then he won't need one anymore. he won’t need you anymore. 

of course he’ll always need you.

that was the deal that was agreed upon, but he can't fathom never seeing you again. especially not after he let you get hurt on his watch.

he wonders if you blame him for not doing enough, for not being enough to protect you from what happened. 

he knows you don't. doesn't help ease the feeling.

"stop calling me that," he says. he says it with a faint smile on his face, trying to maintain his composure. trying to bring a smile to your face.

he sees you roll your eyes at him, and how the action clearly disturbs the headache you have as you recoil from it.

he has to press. he has to do something, anything–

"I know you know my name. you said it in the ambulance," he begins to tease, smirking. 

it doesn't have the intended effect. he wanted to see you smile, see you laugh, but instead? instead, he's made you cry. 

you bring your hands to your face as you wipe the tears away. why can't he see how difficult this is for you? he has to know that you're stupidly in love with him, it's not that hard to recognize the longing in your eyes.

so no, you won't call him Bucky, because that makes it too real. it's way too close to home and you have to remind yourself that this is not and never will be anything more than a working relationship.

"please don't cry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," he says, taking your hand in both of his. you look down to where he's touching you.

you're done for. your mind short circuits. you don't know if you should pull your hand away, or if you're going to cry, or what. your mouth speaks before you consciously make a decision.

"can you do me a favor?" you ask him, wiping your face with your free hand. "can you bring me my stuff?" you request, indicating to the large plastic bag in the corner of the room.

he releases your hand and steps away to grab it. you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. 

you pull your dress out of the bag and begin to inspect it.

a black, velvet, off-the-shoulder dress. sleek and classy for a professional event, but it still made you feel confident and desirable. you bought it specifically for tonight.

you bought it specifically with Bucky in mind.

god, you really are fucking pathetic, aren't you? you just wanted him to look at you and think you looked stunning. but that's stupid, and childish, and impossible.

you inspect the neckline of the dress where your blood spilled onto it. you try to rub out the spots covered in dust from the crash, and almost cry again at seeing all the snags in the fabric.

oh my god. somehow, the thought completely slipped your mind.

you look back up to Bucky and see your blood staining the crisp white fabric of his shirt. you recall now how he pulled you in after the initial crash that caused your injury. you ruined his shirt. 

"fuck, your suit, I'm so fucking sorry," you tell him, looking up to meet his gaze.

when you do, you see the same look in his eyes that you had seen before the crash. that look. why can't you place it?

you can't tear your eyes away from him. not now. no car crash can make you. because you feel like he can actually see you, like he doesn't see you as the mess of broken pieces that you are. like he genuinely sees you.

you're shocked when he looks away and sits on the side of the bed, facing you.

you're even more shocked when he reaches for the fabric of your dress and runs his fingers over it. you watch his lips part, as though to speak, before biting his tongue. it confuses you.

he tries again,

"I don't think I told you this, but you looked beautiful tonight."

no.

no, no, no. it's too much. what is he saying? is he trying to make you feel better after everything that's happened? or–

it's the elevator all over again, the limo all over again. is he seriously still on this? you'd completely forgotten about what that dipshit said about you, when suddenly he brings it up again, reigniting the pain and shame that came with Bucky having witnessed it.

"I don't care about what that man said in the elevator, okay? I thought I asked you to drop it," you bite. 

at first, he looks confused and almost hurt by your words, but pretty quickly he understands.

"no, that's not– I'm serious."

you shake your head at him, aggravating your headache all the same, but you don't care anymore. you can't deal with this anymore.

"stop-" you begin, but he cuts you off, standing from the bed and raising his voice.

"no! you stop. stop brushing me off. yes, I meant what I said, that you shouldn't listen to that asshole or any other idiot who can't see how perfect you are. but forget about that. right now, I'm trying to tell you something, and you're not listening."

that shuts you up for once.

with a much calmer tone and quieter voice, he continues, "I'm just trying to tell you that you looked beautiful tonight."

"yeah, and it doesn't fucking matter because–"

you pause, remembering you can't say it doesn't matter because he doesn't love you.

"–because I'm sitting in a hospital bed now, and I'm going to have a fucking scar on my forehead for the rest of my life, and no man in their right mind will think I'm beautiful then!"

"then maybe I'm not in my right mind," he says quietly. "because I will still think you're beautiful then."

the impact of his words are worse than the car crash. you're truly at a loss. he can't do this to you, he can't hurt you like this.

is it a game? is he messing with your emotions because he knows you're in love with him?

you want to believe it's not.

"even now, in this hospital bed, you're beautiful."

you can't help but let yourself believe him, because it's all you wanted to hear from him all night. so you do something rash. 

you reach for the collar of his shirt, pull him in close, and kiss him.

~~~

he was not expecting that. 

he wants to hold onto you with all his might, hold you to his chest for the rest of both of your lives. he wants to kiss you until you both forget where you're at, until you forget anyone else exists.

when he pulls back from you, you're prepared to get reprimanded and fired. you're ready for whatever it is that he's about to tell you. you force yourself to watch the look on his face, expecting the impending horror that's going to appear in his expression.

he looks between your eyes, scanning for any sense of pain or hesitation you may be feeling.

he kisses you again, and you let yourself melt into him. without breaking away, he moves onto the bed, laying next to you.

it's like a fever dream. you feel like you're on cloud nine, the happiest you've ever been in your entire life. this is all you've ever wanted.

you eventually have to pull back. this whole time, you've been letting your emotions run rampant, and you've conveniently forgotten about how shitty you feel, how tired you are.

you run your mouth before he can say anything.

"fuck, Bucky, I don't want to stop, but my head fucking hurts. I'm so tired," you say, shutting your eyes and letting your head relax into the pillow.

he runs his hand through your hair, careful not to disturb the bandaged cut on your hairline.

"want me to go?" he whispers.

you mutter out a 'no' and lean into his arm that wraps around you as your weariness takes over.

~~~

he holds you gently as you sleep. he may not be able to protect you from everything, but right here, right now? he can be here for you as you rest.

a nurse eventually comes in the room, and he begins to remove himself from your bed.

"don't worry about it, sir. just adding notes to her chart."

he sighs in relief.

"you're a good husband. a lot of the husbands I see around here... not so much."

husband. sure, it was a lie he told them so he could stay with you, to make sure he knew what was going on. that you were going to be okay. 

after everything, he never thought such a life would be in the cards for him. all those dreams and hopes were left in the century before. could he be a good husband? would you even have him, if he asked?

woah, okay, too early to be proposing, he reminds himself.

~~~

eventually, you come to, and the first thing you sense is the weight in the bed with you.

holy shit, you weren't dreaming? this wasn't just a concussion-induced hallucination?

you blink your eyes open, and there he is, staring at you like always.

"hi," you whisper.

"hi." he whispers back.

and then the searing pain shoots through your head, causing you to cry out in pain, clutching your face in your hands.

he almost freaks. seeing you in this kind of pain? you didn't deserve this. it should've been him, he's experienced it, dealt with it before. why couldn't it be him and not you?

he runs for a nurse.

thirty minutes later, the opioids kick in, and you feel light as a feather.

"Bucky?" you begin. he's seated in a chair immediately next to your bed.

"yes, sweetheart?"

your heart pounds in your chest. you're high on the drugs you've been given, and you can't help it when you smile and giggle at the pet name.

"call me that again," you whine, to which he chuckles.

"sweetheart? you like that?" he asks.

"like anything you do," you whisper. "so perfect."

the drugs put you back to sleep real quick.

~~~

it's been another day, and you're being discharged. Bucky still hasn't left your side once, and yet you haven't talked. you can’t let yourself talk about it, because you know that none of it was real. how could it be real? you were hurt, and he was trying to be there for you. 

you crossed the line by kissing him, and it was time for you to let go of your desperation. you had to let it go, and move on. move on from the job and him entirely. 

you anticipate his overbearingness in terms of ensuring you get in the door safely when you arrive home. you don't anticipate him telling you that he intends to stay.

"Mr. Barnes, it's okay, I can take care of myself," you assure him.

you see the annoyance on his face.

"aren't we past this by now?" he asks you.

he sits down on the couch next to you, very closely, right up against you. he brings a hand to your face to turn you to look at him.

you lick your lips. "Bucky."

you watch him for a second, and you wish the look in his eyes was real. 

“Bucky, I quit,” you whisper. he clearly was not expecting you to say that, because he pulls away from you. you mourn the loss of his touch on your skin, the heat of his body near yours. but you're doing what needs to be done. 

“you can’t quit. I’m not– it’s not–”

“I have to quit, Bucky,” you explain to him. “I can’t do this. not anymore, it’s too much.” 

he begins to plead with you, “what? what is too much?”

“you,” you admit to him.

he doesn't understand.

"fuck, I just can't do this. because I love you, and I just can't..."

"I love you."

you're stunned into silence. no, of course he doesn’t…

he moves closer to you. 

“don’t quit because you think this was a fluke, or because you think I was just trying to make you feel better while you were in the hospital. I meant all of it. you are perfect, and beautiful.”

he puts his hands back on your face, gently, rubbing a thumb over the carefully stitched cut near your hairline. 

“please,” he whispers, and you can’t believe that he’s sitting with you, in your apartment, telling you all the words you’ve ever wanted him to say. “I love you. please.”  

you nod, and all the pain goes away as he pulls you in close and kisses you. 

~~~

“didn’t like seeing that idiot putting his hands on you in the elevator,” he whispers into your ear later that night. 

you lean back into his arms wrapped around your waist as you lay in bed.

“oh, please. you had that woman all over you, just begging you to fuck her,” you retort. 

“jealous, sweetheart?” he teases. 

“oh, please, you started it,” you laugh. 

“don’t worry about her. could only ever want my girl.” 

~~~

i really want to write smut for them or like another part so lmk if i should

part 1

part 3

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@starfly-nicole @avengersfan25 @thewiselionessss @ijustwantcomfypjs @hextech-bros @a-book-lover-things @ruexj283 @moncherriis @clavedelune

[braveclementine]

Chapter 4

Warnings: None.

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OCs: Elizabeth Silvertongue and Clementine Greenleaf. I also own Clementines' brother Donavan. The following OCs are owned by other Wattpad writers as this is a collaboration project. Their OCs are on the face claim page. I do not condone any copying of this.

I jerked as the alarm went off, throwing myself out of the bed, staggering over to slam the snooze button and then flick the switch so it wouldn't continue to go off. I turned, looking back at my bed which had never looked more warm and inviting than it did now. 

I groaned, turning away from it, stumbling out of the dorm towards the bathroom, climbing into the shower. Being as tired as I was, I didn't see the temperature and let out a high pitched screech as cold water shot down on my body. I flinched away from it, ducking out from underneath the spray, turning the knob so that it became much warmer. 

"Unless you're dying, shut up." Clementine called through the door, sounding as exhausted as I did. It was the second week of college and we were both finding our work loads catching up to us, especially with our jobs. The grocery store was keeping me late, working till almost midnight before my shift was over. I was glad I only had one class Tuesday and Thursdays so I could get homework done before work. 

The cold shower had done its job though. I was wide awake as I stepped out of the bathroom, heading back to my bedroom to get dressed for school. 

I pulled on a pair of black shorts, grabbing the olive green v-neck shirt to toss on with it. I made sure my cross was hanging at the right length and then, after hesitating a little, put on a simple plastic black choker. 

I grabbed my makeup, applying it quickly and then brushing my long hair out. I'd probably leave it in curlers tonight. 

I went into the kitchen like area where I found Clementine making fruit salad out of the fruit we'd picked at the orchards over the weekend. I nearly moaned as I put the crisp apple in my mouth, the juice trickling along my taste buds as I bit into it. 

"So good." I muttered, grabbing the bowl and eating it with my fingers. "Okay I gotta go or I'm gonna be late for English." 

"See ya." Clementine called as I put the bowl in the sink and hurried, yanking my bag up and hurrying out of the dorm. 

I fast walked down the sidewalk, checking my watch. I had about fifteen minutes to get across the campus and I made it within nine minutes. I slipped through the doors with a sigh of relief, before smacking face first into someone. 

My face burned as Professor Barnes stared down at me, one arm around my waist as I had started falling backwards. 

"I am so so-" I immediately started before- as always- he interrupted. 

"I'm starting to think you like walking into me Miss Silvertongue." Professor Barnes said. He didn't growl, but his voice was dark and he sounded close to being angry. 

"N-No Si-" 

He put a single finger under my chin, lifting it up and said in something that was much more like a purr, "If you kept this chin up, you'd see where you were going. Try it. It  might prevent you from walking into a wall." And he removed his finger, walking past me and out the door. 

I felt a mixture of emotions rise up in me and I stomped my heel against the ground in frustration. I could still feel his finger, like a burning touch underneath my chin. "The nerve!" I hissed, storming down the hallway, trying to be mad instead of aroused. 

I slid into my chair in Brit Lit and pulled out Animal Farm. I had already finished it and was now sitting in class, working on homework, pretending to take notes while Professor Wilson taught. 

It wasn't that I didn't like Professor Wilson. In fact, besides Professor Rogers, he was probably the nicest one out there. Professor Potts was nice enough, but still strict. Professor Udaku was very reserved- but he was also royalty so I suppose he was brought up that way.

But Professor Wilson and Rogers were very laid back and easy. Nothing at all like Professor Barnes. 

Yet, Professor Wilson did not seem to see the class as being worthy of a challenge. Clementine had nearly popped a brain vessel when she'd come back from 'Explorative Reading Class'. I smiled behind my hand, remembering. 

"You'll never believe what Professor Wilson assigned us!" She had shrieked, eyes bugging out of her head while she waved what looked like a Harry Potter book around. 

"Uh, Harry Potter?" I had asked. 

"No! Oh my God read this!" Clementine threw the book at me and I barely caught it before it hit me in the face. 

I opened it up and read the first few lines, "Chapter one. The Boy Who Wasn't Unalived. Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, liked flexing that they were very basic, thank u." I paused and started to giggle. "Tbh they were the last people you'd think would be sus, because they were all fax no printer." I giggled harder. 

"The grammar." Clementine was nearly in tears. "They wrote 'tbh' not 'to be honest'." 

I couldn't help myself, I kept reading out loud. "Mr. Dursley was adulting at a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a dummy thicc (w/ three Cs)-" And here I lost my composure, cackling. "Clementine, this looks amazing to read!" 

"I think Professor Wilson thinks we're stupid." Clementine muttered, flopping on the sofa next to me. 

I rolled my eyes. "-man with hardly any neck, although he had an absolute unit of a mustache. Mrs. Dursley was a total Karen with zero chill and had hella neck, which came in very useful when she was stalking her neighbours and not minding her own. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley who they thought was the main character." 

I glanced over and saw Clementine had the slightest of smiles on her face. "The Dursleys were mostly thriving, but they also had lowkey tea which didn't pass the vibe check and their greatest fear was to get called out and cancelled. They were girlbossing too close to the sun and didn't think they could." 

"Okay, Okay." Clementine muttered. "It's decently funny. I'm still insulted by his thoughts of my low intelligence though." 

I didn't tell Clementine I would much rather read her book- which was completely new, then do Animal Farm all over again. 

I sighed to myself as Professor Wilson started class with the question, "So, after reading Chapter 6 of Animal Farm, what do you guys think of the pigs?" 

And it was ninth grade all over again. 

ꨄ︎

"And so as we can see in Figure 3.10, the outermost boundary of the nucleus is the nuclear envelope. Notice that the nuclear envelope consists of two phospholipid bilayers, which we can also call membranes and there are how many, class?" 

"Two!" Someone shouted from the side of the room. 

"Correct, the outer membrane and the inner membrane, in contrast to the plasm membrane, which consists of only one phospholipid bilayer. The nuclear envelope is a double-membrane structure that constitutes the outermost portion of the nucleus as we see in Figure 3.10. Both the inner and outer membranes of the nuclear envelope are phospholipid bilayers." 

I stifled a yawn with my hand, continuing to make notes on my diagram of the nucleus in front of me. Labelling the different parts which were the Endoplasmic reticulum, nucleolus, chromatin, nucleoplasm, nuclear pore, and nuclear envelope. 

"The nuclear envelope is punctuated with pores that control the passage of ions, molecules, and RNA between the nucleoplasm and the cytoplasm. Now, with Chromatin, you have to understand chromosomes first which-" The bell rang- "We will discuss in the next class. For homework, continue reading Chapter 3 on Cell Structure and Function and be ready for a quiz on the diagrams you were labelling today." Professor Banner said as students quickly shoved their things into their bags, taking off. 

I followed the flow of the crowd to Psychology, feeling my cheeks grow red before I had even reached the classroom. I stopped, turning on my heel since I had twenty minutes to kill, going and sitting on a bench near the vending machines. I looked up and saw the oreos just teasing me through the glass. I bit my bottom lip, standing up and approaching the machine. 

"If you're going to get those and then you die when you've been poisoned from a genetically modified ingredient, I'll do my best not to say 'I told you so'." Clementine's voice teased. I jumped, seeing her out of the corner of my eye where she was leaning against the wall. 

"Jeez Clem. And no, I was just looking." I muttered, sitting back down on the bench. 

"I'm not your mom." Clementine said, sitting down next to me. 

"Nope, much worse." I muttered, doodling randomly on my biology homework. Clementine faked insult. Then she got up, walking over to the machine, putting money in. I raised an eyebrow and watched as she brought out a bag of fritos. 

"Here, we'll share. That way if I'm poisoned, we both are." Clementine said, opening the bag as she sat down next to me. 

"Gee, thanks." I giggled, reaching in and taking some of the corn chips. 

"Of course. What are friends for?" Clementine snickered. 

Psychology came quickly and we entered the classroom silently. I took my seat, glancing up quickly at the desk to see Professor Barnes staring at me. I immediately looked away, getting easily flustered and I crossed my legs tightly, squeezing them so hard I felt them crack. Man I hadn't done that in a long time. 

Professor Barnes snapped the door closed as the bell rang and the class immediately went silent. He reminded me of Severus Snape and how his classes were always silent without speaking a word. Well, in the books anyways. I would've liked to have seen more of his sexy self in the movies. I'd have to read a smutty fanfiction after I finished all my homework.  [Any suggestions?]

"We're going over Chapter 2 this week, which is Research Designs." Professor Barnes said with no preamble, putting a small stack of papers in front of Destiny, who sat in the front on the left hand side. She took one off the top, starting to pass them down. "This is the glossary for this chapters terms." 

I took the list, passing the stack behind me, before quickly surveying the words. 

-Confounds -Correlation -Dependent Variable -Experimenter Expectations -Independent Variable

I looked up from the list as Professor Barnes continued to speak. "I'm sure all of you learned in science the scientific method when doing experiments. If not, pay attention to your science teachers. I'm not wasting my time teaching you something you should've learned in sixth grade." 

And this was why I liked Professor Barnes teaching. His no nonsense attitude. Now if I could just get him to hate me a little less. . . 

"You should, by the time we're done with this chapter be able to understand the difference between correlational and experimental designs, how to interpret correlations, understand what a longitudinal study is, and the strengths and weaknesses of the different research designs we'll be learning about. Though my hopes aren't high." 

I bit my tongue so I didn't smile. 

"Miss Silvertongue," My heart stopped, the urge to smile gone, cheeks immediately turning red, "What do you think the difference between correlational and experimental designs are?" 

I had no answer, so I just shook my head. I didn't even know what correlational designs were yet! How could I answer what the difference between them was? 

"Simply put," Professor Barnes continued, not bothering to check with anyone else while Clementine glare daggers at him from her side of the room, "An experimental involves the manipulation of variables and correlational does not." 

He then went on to talk about people like Uri Geller and Elizabeth Dunn and their effects on Psychological research. As the lesson came to a close and the class was dismissed, Professor Barnes stopped in front of my table. 

"Yes Professor?" I asked quickly, barely looking him in the eye. 

"Did you accept Professor Rogers request?" Professor Barnes asked without preamble. I wasn't sure why he was asking me, since I knew he had overheard the conversation. 

"Yes, which you know." I said before I could stop myself, but he didn't seem upset. On the contrary, it seemed almost as if he smiled for a second. 

"A word of advice, take advantage of this." Professor Barnes said. "Dress professionally. Like a secretary specifically. And don't misunderstand him either. You won't get favoritism in his class just because you're working for him." 

"I don't plan on laxing in my studies sir." I replied, cursing myself mentally. I hated that with him I slipped into calling him 'sir' when I should be saying 'Professor'. 

"Good." Professor Barnes said with a note of finality, turning away. I hesitated and then left the classroom, finding Clementine waiting in the hallway. 

"What did he want?" She asked, disgruntled. 

"Just to give me advice about my job with Professor Rogers." I said with a shrug. "I'm glad I got the tip on dress code, I didn't even think about it." 

Now that I had been told however, I started to feel a panic. 

What exactly did a secretary wear? 

[galatially]

this date is about to be unforgettable

Happy Sunday, Queen! I’m a Detroit girlie and the Lions are playing tonight! It’s got QB!Bucky on my brain. If he wins this one tonight they’re going to the Super Bowl‼️ I’m sure his assistant is wearing one of the puffer jackets made out of his jersey. 😉

He is incredibly nervous right now. Bucky has a lot riding on this game. If he wins, his team advances to the Super Bowl. This would be his first one and he knows the team is depending on him. The pressure is insurmountable and the only thing keeping him sane is his grumpy assistant.

She's keeping his nerves at bay and not letting him overthink or lose focus. Bucky has never said it out loud but she makes him feel like he could do anything.

As much as he wants to win for himself, his team and all the fans, he also wants to win for her. To make her proud of him and to impress her.

She's going to be wearing his number on her back tonight as she sits in the suite during the game.

It make his heart beat a little faster every time he sees her in his jersery or coat with his number and name plastered on the back in bright, bold letters. Bucky believes it brings him luck which the only reason she does it—or so she claims.

Every touchdown he makes is going to be for her.

Bucky promised himself that is he makes it to the Super Bowl and wins, he's finally, finally, going to get the courage to ask her out.

[navybrat817]

Knock You Down a Peg or Two

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Someone learns the hard way that it's a bad idea to upset Bucky's wife.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader), protective vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I'm in a mood, lovelies. We can consider this in the same universe as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes and Handsome and Beautiful. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was no longer the Winter Soldier. He told himself every day he wasn't a cold killer anymore. He did his best to make amends and worked hard to clear his name. From time to time though, people pushed his buttons and got under his skin. You helped him brush it off. Their opinions didn't matter at the end of the day, only yours.

You mattered to him more than anything else. So, if someone bothers him, yeah, he could let it go. Someone upsetting you? He wouldn't stand for it.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he spotted the little weasel sitting at the table in the break room alone. A few hours ago, you called him to vent about how this guy repeatedly tried to make you look bad in front of your superior during a meeting. It wasn���t the first time either. Your tears of frustration were obvious by your tone on the other end, though you tried to hide them. You worked hard, harder than anyone else he knew, and you took your job seriously.

He saw red when he heard you sniffle and it was the only color he had seen since then.

“Give me his name.”

“Bucky, no,” you had argued. “The guy’s a prick and I just needed to vent, so you don’t-”

“Please, baby,” he whispered, knowing full well you could handle yourself, but you were his wife and someone took joy out of your day. Not just that, they made you cry. He took this personally and he wanted to defend you. “Just give me his name so I can take care of it.”

You softly gave him the name, and he made it a priority to find the asshole. It didn’t take him long. No one even questioned why he was asking. It must’ve been his “murder strut” and glare. You once said it could break even the strongest of people.

He headed toward the empty chair beside the agent, careful not to make a sound. His stealth assisted with that. Once he reached the chair though, he made it a point to scrap the chair across the floor to get the prick's attention. The annoyance in his eyes quickly shifted to fear when he realized who he was looking at.

Good. He hoped he pissed his pants.

He made a show of slipping off his leather jacket before taking a seat, making sure the agent got a good look at his metal arm. He also made a show of getting one of his knives out, one you gifted him. “I think we can skip the introductions since you know who I am and I really don't give a shit who you are,” he began, his voice low as he twirled the knife between his fingers. “But I understand you know my wife and, well, she’s the reason I’m here.”

The guy blinked when Bucky made eye contact, the blade still expertly weaving in his hand. “S-Sure. Everyone knows your wife.”

Bucky smiled softly, taking a second to glance at his wedding band. “I’m usually not one to brag, but I can’t help it when it comes to her. She works hard and deserves all the praise she gets, but she’s still humble. Appreciative. Loyal,” he boasted, still smiling before he glared again. “She’d never throw anyone under the bus, especially in front of a superior.”

The little weasel cleared his throat, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair. He seemed to notice for the first time that they were the only two people there. “Look, I don’t know what your wife said, but-”

Bucky pointed the blade at him. “I would think very carefully about what comes out of your mouth next,” he snarled, his eyes as cold as ice.

There was a beat of silence as the guy squirmed in his seat and averted his gaze. Bucky wished you were there to see it. And Steve and Sam. “I may have run my mouth a bit. I just wanted to knock her down a peg or two, you know? She keeps getting promoted and…” he swallowed when Bucky’s eyes narrowed to slits. If this fucker even thought about implying that you slept your way to get where you were today, he may actually cut his throat. “Please, don't kill me.”

The silence after that statement may have been uncomfortable for some, but Bucky didn’t break a sweat. No, he was just thinking of all the different ways he could put him in the hospital for even thinking he had a right to put you down. Putting the knife away, he slowly got to his feet. “Get up,” he said quietly, flexing his hands in intimidation.

“Fuck.” The man nearly knocked his chair over as he stood. “Listen, I’m sorry,” he blurted out, putting his hands out in front of him. “I’ll apologize to her first thing tomorrow, I swear.”

“You think that makes up for it? And are you sorry for trying to make her look bad or are you sorry that you’re under my radar now?” Bucky’s stare remained steady as he knocked his chair out of the way, the piece of furniture nearly splintering when it hit the wall. “Everyone knows what I'm capable of, but do you know what happens to people who upset. My. Wife?”

Bucky refused to say that you cried. The asshole might take that as a sign of victory and he wouldn’t give him any sort of win. He didn’t deserve it. He didn't deserve to be in the same space as you.

The guy’s mouth parted as he took a few steps back on shaky legs. “I-It won’t happen again! I swear!”

“No, it won't, but how about I cut your tongue out so you can’t run your mouth again? Maybe pull out your teeth, too?” Bucky knocked the table away next as he advanced. “Or how about your eyes so you won’t look at her either. Hell, I’ll settle for taking your arm. We’ll match.”

The man let out what sounded like a whimper, his teeth nearly chattering from his fear. Scaring people had given him nightmares, haunted him, but it fueled his fire when he terrified anyone in your honor. “I won’t bother her ever again! I’ll tell my boss she deserves another promotion! I'll transfer! You have my word! I’m sorry!”

Bucky laughed after a moment, a bitter, chilling sound before he held up a hand. “I’m just fucking with you.”

His eyes were still wide with fear. “W… What?”

“I was just trying to scare you a little. You should see the look on your face,” Bucky chuckled again, lightly smacking the guy’s cheek. “Listen, you don’t have to transfer and I’m not going to torture you. Just apologize to my girl and we’re good, okay?”

“Okay.” He let out a breath and chuckled, too. “You really won’t torture me?”

“No, I won’t,” he grinned, grabbing his shoulders. “But I will knock you down a peg or two.”

The prick didn’t see the headbutt coming, but he felt it before he hit the ground. Bucky knew he’d feel it in the morning, too. He got off lucky.

“You know, after you apologize to my wife, I hope you do stay so you can see her continue to thrive,” Bucky toed the guy’s body with his boot. “And speaking of, I need to go buy her some flowers, chocolate, and wine. She deserves it.”

Grabbing his jacket from the broken chair across the room and brushing it off, he whistled as he left the room. He waited until he was a good distance away to call. You picked up on the second ring.

“Hey.” You sounded much better than you did earlier. “So, what’s the damage?”

“Hey, baby,” he smiled. “I headbutted the prick. And before you ask, my head feels great.”

The former assassin may get suspended for that and damaging the table and chair, but he doubted the asshole would have the balls to speak up about what happened.

“Bucky…” you sighed. You were probably pinching the bridge of your nose. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“You’re gonna let me eat you for dessert when I get home,” he smirked. Not that he needed an excuse to dive between your legs, but he'd take any chance he had. “Figure I'll give you at least two orgasms before dinner.”

“Is that right, Mr. Barnes?”

“That is right, Mrs. Barnes.”

The sound of your giggle spread warmth through his chest. Your happiness was his happiness. “Better not keep me waiting,” you teased, pausing for a beat. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he said. You always stuck up for him without question.

“Love you.”

His heart swelled more. “Love you, too.”

He’d have some more explaining to do once he got home and would probably have to pay for the damage he caused. He was also sure that you were plotting the demise of the man’s career and would tell him that he didn’t need to do anything, but he wanted to. He was no longer the Winter Soldier.

But he was your husband and he’d defend you with his life, no matter what.

Violence isn't the answer, but this is fanfiction and we all deserve a loving Bucky. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Pretty P.A. Chapter 6

Summary: Y/N has been the personal assistant to the most influential and famous fashion modeling agency director in the industry for the past 13 years.  They’ve decided to retire, and are leaving the agency in the hands of their protege and former model, Bucky Barnes.  He seems plenty qualified, and Y/N is excited for a chance to work with him.  Change always takes time,  but the new insanely hot boss is distrustful and hesitant towards her.  **curvy reader** **Y/N/N = Your nickname ** Warnings: mentions of sexual assault (not from Bucky), some violence, blood, smut

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The entire weekend was a dream.  Y/N had never been so loved and satisfied in her life, so when Sunday night rolled around she was nervous to burst their bubble.  As Bucky rolled over and tickled her back she sighed.

“What was that sigh for?”  Bucky chuckled.

“We’re going to have to go back to regular life tomorrow,” Y/N said quietly.  

Bucky hummed then pulled at her shoulder to make her face him.  When she did she only saw a playful smirk on his face.  “What are you worried about?”

“That this is a one weekend thing,” Y/N answered.  

“Never,” Bucky immediately answered.  “You won’t be able to get rid of me, babes.”

Y/N snickered at him.  “So how are we going to do this then?  I don’t want to be known as the P.A. that slept with her boss.  I don’t want special favor.”

Bucky leaned forward and kissed her forehead.  “How about work is work, and us is us.  Completely separate.  We won’t even talk about the proverbial ‘us’ until we get off work,” he suggested as he tickled her arm.  He watched her as she took it all in.  She eventually smiled and nodded at him.  “Good.”

“I guess I should go home then,” Y/N sighed again.  “Get cleaned up and ready for the new week.”

“Guess so,” Bucky agreed noncommittally.  His playful smirk returned.  “But not until I get one more taste.”

***

Y/N showed up on Monday morning, freshened up and satiated after the fun-filled weekend.  As she got herself settled at her desk with Bucky’s coffee sitting at the edge of it, a few of the models she regularly interacted with greeted her with strange looks and mirthful smiles.

“Someone had a good weekend,” Natasha said as she sidled up to her desk.

“What do you mean?”  Y/N asked, trying not to blush.

“You’re glowing,” Natasha chuckled.  “Finally got some?”

“And so what if I did?” Y/N gave her a lopsided smile.

“I knew it!”  Natasha whispered excitedly and sat at the chair in front of her.  “Who's the lucky man?”

“None of your business,” Y/N answered quietly.  She gave Natasha a hard look.

“Okay, okay, keep your secrets,” Natasha grinned.  “I’m glad you had fun.  He better have made you feel good.  No selfish lovers allowed.”

“He was…very selfless,” Y/N said, fighting the wide smile on her face.

Natasha’s signature smirk appeared as Bucky walked around the corner.  “Good morning, Natasha.  ‘Morning Y/N,” he greeted them quickly.

“‘Morning boss,” Natasha said.

“Good morning,” Y/N greeted him.  “Your coffee?” she said, handing it to him.

“Thank you,” Bucky smiled at her.  He took a sip and sighed.  “What would I do without you?”

“Die probably,” Y/N laughed as she turned back to her computer.

Bucky laughed and walked into his office.  Natasha’s head whipped back to Y/N with wide eyes.  “You and…” she whispered and thumbed over to Bucky’s direction.

“What?” Y/N said, her own eyes widening.  “No, it’s not–”

Natasha hid her laugh behind her palm.  “Just joking.”

Y/N laughed as she internally tried to calm her thundering heart.  “God, Nat.  Quit teasing me.  Don’t you have a meeting with Gucci in like an hour?”

“Yeah yeah,” Natasha waved away her concern.  “Anyway, have fun with your mystery man.”

Y/N rolled her eyes as Natasha left.  “Y/N!” Bucky called out from behind her.

“Coming!” she answered, grabbing her notebook.  She walked into his office to find him sitting at his desk, his playful smirk on his face again.  

“Close the door,” he said.  Y/N closed it behind her and sat in the chair in front of him.  She gave him an expectant look as she opened her notebook, her pen at the ready.  “Before we officially do this work vs. personal thing,” he started as he leaned forward and watched her, “I’m ‘selfless’?” he asked.

Y/N rolled her eyes.  “Bucky, we’re at work–”  Bucky gave her a dark look and she gripped her notebook tighter.  “Yes,” she answered simply.

“Hm,” he said, nodding absentmindedly.  “Can I selflessly see you again tonight?”

Y/N smirked back at him.  “You don’t need a break?”  Bucky’s eyes narrowed at her.  “My place or yours?” she said.

“Yours,” Bucky immediately answered.

“Okay,” Y/N said quietly.

“Okay,” Bucky grinned.  He looked her up and down.  “You look nice.”

“Thank you,” she said, looking down at the jewelry she chose for the day that accentuated her bustline.  

Bucky stared at her for another moment then took a long breath before puffing it out.  “Well,” he sat up and tapped his desk.  “What do we have going on today?”

***

Y/N was a complete professional with Bucky at work, and for the most part he was, too,  every once in a while trying to sneak a touch or a kiss in his office, but she very quickly would step away or shut him down.  She had a feeling that some people in the office suspected their secret relationship, but if it bothered them they never said or did anything.  

Bucky had a drawer of things at her place, and she had one at his.  The relationship blossomed slowly from something mostly physical to something more intentional and deep.  Instead of spending all weekend in bed he started taking her out to some secluded spots around the city on dates.  They had more in-depth conversations, got to know each other more personally than before.  A few months later she met his mother, who was the only person he’d told about their relationship.  She had become close to his mother, Winnie, who had started calling her randomly throughout the week at times to check in on her and talk.  Y/N had lost her parents years before, so having a motherly figure in her life was pleasant.

Tony reached out to Olympus and announced that he and Pepper were having another baby.  Y/N was ecstatic for them and she made plans to reconnect with Tony at lunch one Saturday.  She met up with him and hugged him tight.  “I’m so happy for you,” she breathed as he pulled away.  

“You get to be a godmother to two little bundles of joy,” he smirked at her.

“As honored as I am to be the fun aunt, you know better than to make me a godmother,” Y/N laughed as they sat down and ordered drinks.  

They talked about all the changes over the past year and a half with Olympus, her work with Bucky, the exposing of Hydra, Brock Rumlowe and how he attacked her, and their personal lives.  Tony was excited but nervous being an older father.  He teased her about dating.

“Come on, Y/N, give me the tea,” he said.

“There is no tea,” Y/N shrugged.

“I don’t believe it,” Tony shook his head.  “You look different.  Lighter…happier,” he mused, looking her over.  Y/N fought a smile and Tony pumped his fist in triumph.  “I knew it!  You’ve been seeing someone.  You’re such a bad liar.”

“I can be a great liar when I need to be,” Y/N scoffed.  “But I like you, so I don’t feel the need to lie.”

“Well, who is it?” Tony asked.

Y/N shook her head.  “Can’t say.”

“What?  Why not?” he asked, looking offended.

“Because it’s private,” Y/N said, drinking more of her cocktail.

Tony watched her for a long moment before his smirk came back.  “It’s Bucky, isn’t it?”  Y/N tried to keep her face neutral, but she felt her eyes widen and he smiled wider.  “I knew it,” Tony chuckled.  

“Tony,” Y/N whined.  “Please don’t say anything.”

“I’m not, I won’t,” he said, his hands up in surrender.  He leaned over and held her hands, squeezing her fingers comfortingly.  “He’s a good man.  I had a feeling something like this would happen when I appointed him as the director.  You two just…vibe,” he said.  

“I just don’t want to be known as the assistant who slept with her boss,” Y/N said quietly, squeezing his fingers back.  

“Well, you were getting those rumors before with me all the time,” Tony shrugged.  “It’s a juicy story people love to gossip about.  But who cares what others think?  Are you happy?”  Y/N fought another smile as she hung her head but nodded.  “Then fuck them.”

Y/N giggled at that.  “Thanks, Tony.”

He didn’t let go of her hands yet.  “Do you love him?”

She gaped at his question.  She and Bucky had been sleeping together for almost a year now, but they had never had a conversation about what the relationship was.  Were they dating?  Boyfriend-girlfriend?  They had never even talked about being exclusive.  She hadn’t been dating anyone else…had he?  They had just been enjoying each other for so long that it never came up.  But in that moment, Tony rattled her world view, and she realized that yes, she did love Bucky.  He was her boss, a great lover, but he was also her friend.  She knew everything about him both for her job and also because she was genuinely interested and cared about him.  Y/N felt a wave of emotion go through her and she slightly nodded at Tony.

Tony smiled adoringly at her.  “There’s a lot being unsaid in those eyes right now.  Talk to him.  He’d be crazy not to love you back.”

@calwitch @hzdhrtss

[vintagebuckybarnes]

In Vino Veritas

Pairing → Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Lab Assistant! Female! Reader

Total Wordcount → 3.5K

Summary → It all started when you and the Avengers enjoyed drinks during the afterparty back at the Avengers Tower. There, Tony revealed one of your deepest secrets, and even though you wish it had never come to light at first, you’re glad it did when the man you love stands on your doorstep, ready to start the rest of your life together.

Tags & Warnings → Semi-canon compliant, Avenger! Bucky Barnes, Female! Reader, Tony’s Lab Assistant! Reader, Bucky’s past as TWS is mentioned, emotional hurt/comfort, mutual pining, some cursing, and explicit sexual content.

Tags: Smut → Grinding, begging, some dirty talk, praise, teasing Bucky, protected sex, cowgirl position.

Story Rating → Explicit

Author’s Note → This story is beta'd by the wonderful @late-to-the-party-81, and I cannot thank you enough for that. I hope you'll all enjoy my story, which is filled with some angst, lots of fluff, and some smut to top it all off! 💜

Writing Prompts @fandom-free-bingo Bug Edition → “There is no us.” | Riding | In vino veritas | “Touch me.” @fandom-free-bingo Medical Edition → Crush at first sight @julybreakbingo Post-JBB → Being confronted about their feelings for another

Tags List → If you’d like to be tagged in my stories, you can add yourself to my tag list here.

The evening starts fine, good, even. But it all takes an unexpected turn when the man you work for - Tony Stark - reveals your secret. A secret that you’d only recently revealed to him.

Earlier that day, you’d spotted Bucky as he was working out and from that moment on your mind has been with him instead of your usual work and tasks.

“Hello, Y/N? Anyone home in there?” Tony asks as he lays a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. You look up at him with a worried look while he smiles back at you with a kind expression. A soft sigh escapes your lips as the thoughts in your head wander off again, specifically how his back looked underneath the tank top he wore in the gym while doing squats. Not only that, but you also can’t stop thinking about the way his ass looked in the sweatpants he wore. In a word, magnificent.

“Is everything okay with you? You’ve been a bit off your game today.” As Tony sits next to you, you put down the screwdriver you were holding - the one he asked you three times to pass to him - before turning to face him, your gaze focusing somewhere on the wall behind him. For a moment, there’s a silence between you as you gather the courage to tell him what’s been on your mind.

“Well, uhm- There’s something, or someone, that I can’t stop thinking about, and it’s taking over my mind every second of every day. It- It’s Bucky,” you say almost in a whisper. For a few seconds, Tony is completely silent as he lets the thought of you having a crush on one of his fellow Avengers sit in his mind. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, he reaches out for your hand and takes it between his warm ones.

“You know that I’ll always support you in everything, right? I supported you when you expressed your desire to halt your life as an Avenger and retrain as my lab technician, and I supported you when you moved out of Avengers Tower to have your own home with more peace. This is not going to be any different. All I’m hoping for is that he will make you the happiest and best version of you, as you deserve nothing less.”

Tears brim at your waterline as Tony tells you this, and even though you deeply appreciate him, his words, and everything he has done for you, you can’t help but still feel a bit… odd about the fact you told him you’re having a crush on Bucky. That you have a crush on the man who was once the most feared assassin in the world under the hands of HYDRA.

“Now, can you hand me that screwdriver before your thoughts wander off to him again?” your boss asks in a teasing tone, making you smile as you grab it and hand it to him. Somehow, he always seems to know the right thing to say, and it's exactly why you enjoy spending time by his side while learning everything there is to know about his lab and what's going on in there.

Just as you’re about to get comfortable with another drink in your hand, you meet the gaze of the man you’re crushing on, and you feel heat coursing through your veins. The lines around his deep blue eyes intensify as he smiles at you, his attention making every last thought in your brain disappear. You’re so captivated by how Bucky looks at you that you miss your seat as you sit down. However, before you fall, you’re caught by a pair of solid arms that prevent you from hitting the floor.

“Careful there, Little One,” Thor says in his deep voice, his accent always making the butterflies in your stomach go wild. Even though you’d known Thor since you were young, you couldn’t help but get a little flustered by the nickname, and he smiled at you as you were finally sitting on the chair you intended to use.

“Thank you, Thor,” you whisper before sipping your cocktail. Around you, the conversations are starting to become a little blurry as you focus on Bucky and everything he has to say, his lips forming around the words effortlessly. When you suddenly feel a little shove against your arm, you yelp, making everyone go silent as they look at you.

“What did you do that for?!” you ask Thor in a low voice, but all he does is point to Tony, who obviously has something to say as he’s waving for everyone’s attention. There are moments when you enjoy the fact that alcohol can bring out people’s true feelings or thoughts, also known as in vino veritas, but not now. Oh no, now you wish you could disappear as you listen to the words coming out of Tony’s mouth.

“Guys, you really shouldn’t say this to Bucky or Y/N, but they’re having a massive crush on one another!” Tony says in a loud whispering tone, but what he fails to notice in his inebriated state is that you two are sitting right across from one another, enjoying the afterparty just like everyone else. Or at least, you were enjoying the afterparty until your secret got out.

The glass you were holding falls out of your hand before shattering into pieces on the floor, and your feet carry you as fast as they can away from the party and away from your worst nightmare come true. The music behind you fades away as you turn one corner after another, tears burning in your eyes as the event repeatedly replays in your mind. Your lungs start to burn as you keep running, the stinging feeling in your side increasing as you run out of the Avengers Tower into the night.

Meanwhile, Bucky’s world feels like it has taken a 180-degree turn. Mere minutes ago, he could only fantasize that you could have feelings for him, but now? A wave of disbelief washes over the super soldier, his expression showing pure surprise as he takes the moment in. For him, it was a crush at first sight from the momentyou walked into the training room on your first day. Over the years, his feelings have intensified, although he has only told Steve about his crush - or rather his now deep-rooted love - for you.

And yet, now that the pair of you have been confronted about your feelings for one another, he doesn’t know what to do. He has replayed the moment he’d confess his feelings to you more times than he can count in his mind, and in none of those versions, this is one of the scenarios that had appeared. It’s only when Steve grabs his arm and pulls him away that he seemingly comes back to reality again.

“Bucky, how does Tony know about your crush on Y/N? I mean, I’m, of course, fine with you sharing it, but-”

“I don’t know, Steve, I don’t know, and it kills me,” Bucky says as he runs his fingers through his cropped hair.“Fuck- I was planning on telling her this week but… but now it’s ruined, and I didn’t even get the chance to talk to her, and-” It’s all Bucky can say as he fights the urge to punch the wall with his metal fist, both hands clenched by his side as he tries to regulate his breathing. Without warning, Steve pulls him into a hug, and Bucky’s arms snake around his best friend's waist as his fingers clutch at the fabric of his shirt.

“It’s going to be okay, I promise,” Steve whispers, though he’s not entirely sure that’s true because he knows as well as anyone that things don’t always go back to how they were before. Still, Bucky decides to believe him as they stand there for a little while longer, and he soaks in every bit of comfort he can get for now. Lord knows he’s going to need it.

The past few days have been strange, to say the least. You haven’t been to the Avengers Tower since Tony revealed your now not-so-secret crush on the super soldier. You’re afraid of what will happen if you do. This also means you haven’t seen Bucky in a few days, and you miss him. You miss hearing his laugh, and you miss seeing how his mouth turns slightly upward as you hand him one of your baked goods, but most of all, you miss how his arms feel when he pulls you in for a hug.

Just as you’re about to make yourself a cup of tea, you get pulled from your thoughts by a soft but familiar knock on the door; only one thing can make that sound: Bucky’s metal hand knocking against the wood. For a moment, you contemplate your actions, but decide to give him at least a chance to talk, especially as it wasn’t him who laid out your feelings in front of everyone.

“Bucky, hi,” you say softly as you take in his appearance, your heart sinking as you do. It’s evident he hasn’t slept at all the past few days. There are dark circles under his eyes, and he doesn’t look as healthy as usual—more disheveled. The struggles he’s facing are apparent in his entire demeanor, and all you want to do is wrap him up in a warm blanket and cuddle him until the end of time.

“Hi,” he says hoarsely, and you step aside, allowing him to enter your apartment. He’s been here a few times already, and usually there’s a warmth radiating from you and every inch of the little place you call home, but ever since the party, it hasn’t been the same. It isn’t just the apartment, either. You feel different.

“Would you like some tea before we talk?” you ask to break the tension. “I was about to make some.”

He nods at you before wandering further into your apartment, and you head to the kitchen, picking out another mug for Bucky to use. Once he’s caught sight of your couch, he immediately takes a seat, a soft groan audible as he does. There aren’t many places more comfortable than the large couch that’s standing right here in your living room.

When you emerge a few minutes later with two steaming mugs of tea and a plate filled with chocolate chip cookies you baked fresh this morning, Bucky can’t help but smile at you. He gladly takes the tea with one of the cookies, as they’re his favorite, and when you sit down next to him, it feels just like it always has, as if nothing has changed. But you both know it has, and that’s why the super soldier’s now in your living room.

“So…” you start, unsure what to say now that he’s sitting on your couch. Bucky’s eyes are trained on the steaming tea in his hands, his thoughts going a mile a minute as he’s thinking about what he wants to say - other than confessing his love for you.

“So… uhm, we missed seeing you around the Tower,” Bucky starts, though you both know it’s mostly him who has missed seeing you there. You have always been a staple there during his mornings as you make him a cup of coffee, and during movie nights, you were always the one he could sit next to and enjoy the movie, but now that you’re not there, it’s like a piece of soul has left the Tower with you.

“I mean, yeah. It’s been a bit awkward for me to go back after what happened a few days ago,” you tell him, and a shudder of horror runs down your spine at the thought of having to face Tony again. A smile tugs at the corners of Bucky’s lips as he thinks back to what happened that night, a happy memory of your first meeting resurfacing in the back of his mind as he does.

“Good morning, Sergeant Barnes. I’ve made some chocolate chip cookies, if you want some. However, I should warn you, Tony’s been on the prowl since I took them out of the oven, so I’ll advise you to be quick,” you say with a glare towards Tony, who has been eyeing them up since he walked into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. For the first time in a long time, Bucky showed something akin to a smile, and everyone looked at each other to ensure they saw it, too.

“Thank you,” he says lowly, grabbing one of the smaller ones on the plate, followed by a cup of coffee, before swiftly leaving the kitchen to spend more time in his room. Before Bucky even left the kitchen, Tony was on the cookies as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks, and this time you let him.

“Can I- Is it okay if I tell you something? Because if I don’t say it now, I don’t know if I ever will,” Bucky says softly, and you nod before repositioning yourself so that you’re facing him. His gaze is still trained on his mug as he thinks carefully about his next words, afraid he might accidentally say the wrong thing.

“Tony was right. He is right, actually. When he said, we’re crushing on each other. I’ve been crushing on you since you offered me those chocolate chip cookies when Tony threatened to eat them all before anyone else had a chance to get them. It was like a switch flipped inside me back then, and I haven’t been the same since,” Bucky says, his mouth now in a line as he tells you about his feelings.

“Each time I look at you, it’s like I’m seeing an angel, and every time I hear your voice, it’s like a little piece of my soul is healing, too. I find myself drawn to you in every room and wonder what life has in store for us. But deep down inside, I know there is no ‘us’ yet. But I want there to be us. I want you, Y/N. I want you to be mine, in whatever capacity you’ll have me. If you want to stay friends, that’s okay with me, but if you want more, I’ll happily accept every bit of love you’re willing to offer me.”

Once Bucky’s done, you’re unsure what to say. What to think. What to do. You want to say that the feelings between you are mutual, that you’re in love with him and that you want nothing more than to be his, but something inside you is stopping you. So, instead of saying anything, you place your hand over his flesh limb, and his eyes slip shut at the feeling of your soft fingers against his rough hand.

“Bucky.” His name is a whisper on your lips, but it’s enough to make him look at you, to meet your gaze.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

As soon as the words leave your lips, Bucky carefully put his tea on the coffee table before hauling you onto his lap, his hands digging into the soft flesh of your waist as your lips interlock in a passionate dance. He can’t get enough of your soft mouth slotting together with his and the way his tongue fights for dominance with yours as your fingers dig into his neck. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt a strong connection with someone, and you’re happy to explore it with Bucky.

Your hips grind over his growing length of their own volition,your body looking for any bit of friction it can get. Without warning, one of Bucky’s hands slides lower until he’s cupping your ass, making you gasp into his mouth as a result. Bucky can’t help but smile into the kiss as he pulls you impossibly closer, your legs spreading just a bit further as you sink against his muscular body.

“Hmm, I’ve been wanting this - you - for so long,” he says between the kisses trailing your jaw towards your ear, his teeth nipping on your earlobe as your head lolls to the side. With every passing second, your thoughts are melting away more and more, and all that’s left inside your mind is Bucky. Soon, his other hand joins the first as he helps you grind onto him, a groan falling from his lips as he sets a perfect pace for you both.

“B-Bucky—" his name sounds more like a whine than anything else. “I—I want you.”

“But you already have me, pretty girl, ‘m right here,” he says with a teasing lilt to his voice, his hands continuing to help you grind until you’re a complete mess for him. Your shorts are ruined, your arousal soaking through them and onto the bulge in his black jeans, much to Bucky’s joy. He was wondering what it would take to get you to this point, and it turns out it won’t take much.

He smiles against the skin of your neck, where he’s taking his time to mark you with hickeys and small bitemarks, all of which leave you a bit more of a moaning, begging mess on his lap, much to his pride. When one of your hands moves away from his neck and down his torso, he quickly catches on to what you’re doing. “Someone’s a little impatient today, huh?”

“Yes, oh god, yes! I need you to touch me, Bucky. I want to feel you inside me as you make me fall apart on your cock, and I need you to fuck me like there’s no tomorrow!” Your voice sounds more breathy than usual, but every care you thought you had has gone out the window. All you want is Bucky and his cock to ride, until you’re orgasming so hard and long you can’t remember your name.

“Okay, I will. Don’t you worry about anything, okay? Let me take care of you, and I’ll give you everything you need and more,” he reassures you in a shushing voice. You nod before kissing him again, which immediately deepens before he gently helps you get up, allowing you to take off your panties and shorts, and he can take off his pants and boxershorts, too. As soon as you’re both freed from your last pieces of clothing, you hand him a condom you retrieved from the side table drawer while he took the time to undress himself.

“Hmmm, looks so thick,” you tell him as you look at it with wide eyes, wondering how he’s going to fit inside you as you’re positioning yourself on his lap once more, your legs bracketing his thicks thighs as you get comfortable.

“I know, but I’m gonna go slow. Wouldn’t want to hurt you and your perfect, sweet little pussy.” He smiles as he holds his cock in place, your pliant body sinking onto him slowly as your fingers dig into his shoulders to steady yourself. Your hiss of pleasure is audible and your face contorts at the slight sting of him stretching you, but just like he promised, Bucky is taking it slow to ensure you’ll both have the most amazing first time.

As soon as you’re fully seated on his lap, your body goes limp against him, your face tucked in the crook of his neck as you adjust to his girth, and Bucky places soft kisses on your head while praising you through it all. “You’re doing so well for me, baby. Such a good girl for me, letting me take the lead and giving you exactly what you need.”

A small smile appears on your face as you look up at him with big, doe-like eyes, and he can’t help but smile back as the back of his fingers gently caress your cheek. He may have thought you were beautiful before, but nothing compares to this moment. 

“I love you, Y/N, and I promise to take care of you with every fiber of my being,” he whispers, his lips sealing his promise against your cheek. Your eyes fall shut at his words, and his hand moves down your side until it’s on your hip again, ready for you to let him know when you’re good to go. Your bodies work in complete sync with one another with every rise and fall of your chest, and his hands guide you beautifully as you slowly sink and rise on his length.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, and it doesn’t take long for both of you to find your highs for the first time, and they’re serving as a promise of everything else that’s still to come in this lifetime. A few days ago, you and Bucky didn’t even know you felt the same about one another, but now you’re sharing the start of the rest of your lives, and it’s all thanks to Tony. Because without him, you wouldn’t have been able to tell the man of your dreams how much you love him.

Masterlist → Bucky Barnes

GIF: Source → All the other graphics you see are made by @vintagebuckybarnes