#connect4au

[navybrat817]

Bucky needs to be smothered in kisses. No sex has to follow, just him allowing you to pepper kisses all over his cute face simply for being him and for looking so pretty and cute. Like, "Shut up, Bucky and take it" - proceeded by dozens of kisses 💋💋💋

Bucky deserves all the kisses! How about a little something for our tattoo artist?

What Dreams Are Made Of

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: You're on Bucky's mind before your date. Word Count: Over 1.5k Warnings: Ki-ssing, Fluff, slight insecurity if you squint, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics, Bucky edit - Nix, Moodboard - yours truly A/N: My second Connect 4 (C4007 - Square 1) / Into an Alternate Juneiverse for @buckybarnesevents! Set in my Sin on Skin AU, but can be read as a standalone.❤️ 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 flopped down on the break room couch with a tired smile. He had a hard time sleeping the night before and wanted a little rest before his first client of the day arrived. It didn't surprise him when he struggled to sleep. He could sometimes be a night owl when he wasn't dealing with the occasional nightmare, but last night was different. You consumed his thoughts after he went home.

Every single one of them.

You thinking of me, Sugar? I hope you are.

Hell, you hadn’t left his mind since he first walked into your shop. His beautiful, sweet baker with the warm smile and humor to brighten his day. You looked too pure to be with someone who looked like him. He wasn't blind to the stares he received whenever he went out. With his physique and exposed skin littered with ink, many wrote him off as dangerous without a second thought. They would’ve been shocked to learn he was a bit of a science nerd who loved to read in his spare time or that he served his country alongside his best friend.

Something told him you’d appreciate all those little details about him, especially since you asked him out.

"Wish I was taking you out now, Sugar," he whispered to himself as he shut his eyes.

Bucky didn’t want to admit to himself that he was a little nervous. From his chats with you, he gathered enough of an idea on where it would be good to take you for your first date. He didn’t want it to be generic though. If he couldn’t make it unique, it at least had to be special. Something you’d remember. You deserve the best.

And he wanted to show you he was nothing like your prick of an ex.

"Hey."

The sound of your voice beside him made his eyes open, his heart racing as you smiled. He hadn’t even heard your footsteps. When he tried to sit up, you pushed him to lay back down. The sugary scent that lingered on your skin from the shop had him licking his lips as you moved on top of him. But instead of your normal work clothes and apron, you wore a sundress.

One that was dangerously riding up your hips as you straddled him.

And he was too in awe to stop you.

“How did you get back here?” he whispered, not at all upset that you managed to sneak into the room.

“Steve let me in,” you whispered back, framing his face. He couldn’t decide where to place his hands. He wanted them all over you. “I had a break and couldn’t wait to see you.”

“You saw me last night,” he smirked as you leaned down, your lips dangerously close to his. “Not that I’m complaining.”

While the guys heard all about you and expected to meet you at some point, no one thought you would rush into the shop the way you had. You didn’t know it yet, but they all had a soft spot for you because of Bucky. Even if they didn’t, not a single one of them would’ve put up with how your dick of an ex spoke to you. Respect meant everything in their establishment and any man who talked down to someone the way he had with you had no right to be there.

The fucker made you cry, but I wiped that smug look off his face just for you.

“Too long to wait,” you smiled, your breath skimming his mouth. It paralyzed him as he waited to see what you would do next. “And I know our date isn’t until Friday, but I want to kiss you now.”

“Why do you wanna kiss me?” he smiled because yours was contagious.

“Because I want to thank you.”

“You don’t need to,” he promised. He’d stick up for you no matter what the situation called for. Call him smitten or a decent guy, that was just how he was.

“I want to. I also want to kiss you because you’re pretty. And, yes, you are pretty because I say so,” you teased, which earned an almost bashful smile from him. He was far from pretty, but any sort of compliment from you meant the world. “But mainly because you’re a good man and deserve a kiss.��

“Just a kiss?” he asked as he did his best to keep his hips still. You didn’t just deserve the best date, but you deserve a gentleman as well. Fuck, did he want you though and the things he wanted to do to you were far from innocent. He wondered if you felt through his jeans just how much he did.

“Just a kiss. For now,” you said, closing the gap between the two of you.

There was no hunger or desperation when your tongue slipped past his lips. Even when he deepend the kiss, you didn’t rush. It was soft and tender, but held the promise of something more just like your first kiss had. He wasn’t just a moth drawn to your flame. He carried the fuel and wanted to douse you in it.

Bucky craved to be the one who brought your fire to the surface until it consumed you both.

“Am I dreaming?” he exhaled, finally gripping your hips when you dragged your lips along his face. The featherlight motions were enough to drive him mad, tempting him to flip you over so he could explore your body properly. No, he needed to let you stay in control for now. “Sugar, you’re killing me.”

“And what a way to go, Hottie. So, shut up and take my kisses,” you giggled.

He chuckled as you smothered him with your lips and he took the opportunity to hold you closer. It felt right to have you in his arms. He couldn’t recall the last time he fell for someone so quickly, if ever. What if that scared you?

What if he scared you?

“It’s time to wake up, Bucky,” you whispered in his ear. “I’ll see you soon.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed as you faded from his arms. “Sugar?” he asked. Where did you go?

“Buck, you need to get up!”

Steve’s shout startled Bucky awake and it was a miracle he didn’t fall off the couch. His heart pounded before he realized he had been dreaming. You weren’t in the back room with him. You hadn’t smothered him with gentle kisses.

He was all alone.

“What the fuck?” he whispered, tossling his hair as he sat up.

Figures. It was just a dream, but I’m glad I had it.

“You okay?” Steve asked as he carefully approached his friend. “Hey, I wasn’t trying to scare you. Called your name a couple of times and that didn’t do the trick. Didn’t think I should touch you either.”

“I’m fine. Thanks,” Bucky huffed a little. Both of them had their share of nightmares after being overseas. Steve wouldn’t have yelled his name if he thought something was wrong, so he must’ve appeared peaceful enough. Peace. That was what you gave him, even if his jeans felt a little tighther and uncomfortable.

“You need a minute?” the blonde smirked when Bucky adjusted a bit.

“Why did you wake me?” he replied, avoiding his question. The guys knew well enough how crazy he was about you and didn’t need to know he was dreaming about you in the shop. “I’m sure it was extremely important.”

“Because your client should be here in a few minutes and I wanted to make sure you didn’t sleep through the appointment. So, yeah, extremely important.”

With a nod, Bucky slowly got to his feet. “Space is already cleaned and disinfected. Stencil’s done, too,” he said. He liked to prepare as much as he could and they prided themselves on having a clean and safe workspace. “Um, Sugar hasn’t stopped by, has she?”

Steve shook his head. “No, she hasn’t,” he answered, giving Bucky a small smile when he frowned. He knew all about the date. “But Friday is just around the corner if you don’t see her before then.”

He tried not to feel disappointment and swore he could still smell the sugary scent of you in the air. It must’ve lingered on the couch from when you were there the night before. He wished he could have that smell on his pillows and sheets. “I like her.”

“I know you do. We all do,” Steve said, leaning against the wall. “We even told Hal he wasn’t allowed to go into the bakery out of fear that she’d fall for his charm,” he added with a wink.

I’m charming, too.

“No, punk,” he said, not wanting to be more vulnerable than he already had. “I really like her.”

The playful look on Steve’s face fell, replaced with something softer. “I know, jerk. And I think she really likes you, too. So be the good guy we know you are and sweep her off her feet.”

That’s exactly what Bucky planned to do.

Bucky, our hearts are yours! Check out more of Hottie and Sugar wiht Sweet and Strong. Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[drabbles-mc]

Out of Practice

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

For the Alternate June-iverse prompt: milf/dilf

Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, steamy things, reader is a mom, bucky hasn't dated in like 70 years

Word Count: 7.7k

A/N: I had no idea what I was going to do for this prompt for the longest time but then tonight this all fell outta me in one sitting lmao. enjoy some cameos from Sam and Tony! And thanks again to @buckybarnesevents and @rookthorne for putting this event together 💖

MCU Taglist: @garbinge @artemiseamoon (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

Bucky was standing at the bottom of the walkway that led to the main doors of the school. Despite the warmth that came from the late spring weather, he still had on his leather jacket and gloves. He was far from the only person standing out and waiting for the final bell to ring, but he still felt like he stood out. No matter how much time went by that was a feeling he had yet to shake.

He pried his eyes off the cracked concrete beneath his boots when the bell rang, shortly followed by the front doors of the school being pushed open by dozens upon dozens of kids desperate to get out and head home. Many of them were sprinting off towards the buses, but some were making a direct line right where Bucky was standing with the rest of the parents and other family members. He kept his eyes peeled, but he still didn’t see who he was looking for.

A couple minutes ticked by and for a moment he wondered if he had shown up at the wrong place, or on the wrong day. He was about to take his phone out of his pocket when the front door opened up again. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw Morgan walking out, jacket tied around her waist and backpack settled on her shoulders. She was looking up at the woman next to her, the two of them talking as the woman balanced a child who looked like she was just barely old enough to be in kindergarten on her hip.

When Morgan looked away, she immediately saw Bucky. A smile broke out across her face as she threw a hand up to wave, an expression and gesture that he returned. He took a few steps so that he met her right where the walkways met. She walked right up to him, holding both hands out in closed fists. Bucky’s grin widened slightly as he held his fists out as well, tapping their knuckles together before the both pulled their hands back, making an exploding sound and gesture as they did.

Once they completed their ritual, Bucky turned his attention to you. You were smiling at the sight of the two of them, but he could see the questioning look still lingering in your eyes. “You must be Uncle Bucky, then?” you asked, although the answer seemed fairly obvious.

He chuckled, looking briefly at Morgan before he returned his attention back to you. “Yeah, but just Bucky is fine.”

He held out his hand for you to shake, and you did so carefully so as not to disturb the sleeping child on your hip as you gave him your name in return. “Hope you don’t mind me bringing her out.” You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “Just like to make sure that everything’s alright when someone new is picking up one of my students.”

“I tried to tell her you weren’t new,” Morgan interjected, her sarcasm making her sound so much like her father despite only being nine years old.

You shook your head with a knowing smile. “New to me, then,” you corrected.

“It’s fine,” Bucky said with a small shake of his head. “I get it.”

“I appreciate that.” You looked back and forth between the two of them, an odd but fitting pair. “I’ll let you two go. It was nice to meet you, Bucky.” You shifted your gaze to the young girl standing beside him. “And I will see you on Monday, Miss Morgan.”

Morgan was already saying goodbye and turning to head off towards Bucky’s care by the time the words left your mouth. Bucky, however, was still staring at you, looking at the way you were balancing the little girl on one hip while you had her backpack on the opposite shoulder, your own bag hanging in the crook of your arm. He knew that this was probably far from the first time you left the school building with your hands full but he still felt like it was wrong to not at least offer to help.

“Do you need help with—”

“I’ve got it,” you reassured him with a smile, taking a step towards the parking lot, “but thank you.”

He didn’t try to offer again, taking your word for what it was worth. Turning, he easily collapsed the distance between himself and Morgan in one stride, and the two of them started walking off towards his car. You heard the two of them talking as they walked away. Or, rather, you heard Morgan talking about her day and Bucky chiming in with a word of acknowledgment. You cast a couple brief looks at them as you walked over to your car, smiling at the sight of them.

You returned your focus to the task at hand as you tried to get your daughter into her booster seat in the back of your car. You weren’t too worried, since she had luckily been a heavy sleeper ever since she was born, but you still tried to be extra careful. You were clicking her seatbelt into place when you heard Bucky’s car engine rumbling to life.

You caught a glimpse through your own car’s windshield as they drove by, Morgan sitting behind the empty passenger seat of Bucky’s car. They were out of you line of sight as quickly as they’d entered it. When they were gone again you set both your bag and your daughter’s on the floor by her feet.

~*~

“Ew, no,” Morgan said as she shook her head, her and Bucky looking at each other through the rearview mirror, “he’s gross. All the boys in my grade are.”

Bucky laughed, nodding. “Your dad will be happy to hear that.”

“I don’t even want a boyfriend.”

Bucky fought to the urge to give his knee-jerk response which would’ve been, “Well, yeah, you’re fucking nine.” Instead, he asked, “You tell him that?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “He went and asked Chrissy instead.”

“Worked out for you,” Bucky said, throwing his directional on before turning onto the main road away from the school. “You don’t need a boyfriend—you’re fine.”

“Dad says that you need a girlfriend.”

Bucky nearly choking on the breath he was pulling in. His eyes drifted from the road and back to the mirror to look at her. “What?”

“What?” she parroted back to him, blissfully unaware of why he reacted that way. “That’s what he said.”

Bucky was shaking his head, gaze fixed back on the road once more. “Yeah? Well your dad’s a—”

“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” she asked.

Bucky chuckled, a genuine sound. “Ever? Yeah.”

“This century?”

His eyebrows raised, surprised but also not. “You gotta stop listening to your dad all the time.”

A wide grin blossomed across her face. “But have you?”

He shook his head. “I thought we were cool,” he said sarcastically.

Morgan laughed hard enough at that to usher them into another topic of conversation with the rest of the drive home. Bucky went the long way, swinging through McDonald’s on the way since he was told that was fine this time around. It killed a little more time anyway, which was really what he needed. The only reason that he has the one enlisted to go and pick Morgan up in the first place was because Tony and Pepper were both running late with work. Not terribly so, but late enough that they didn’t want to ask her teacher to stay and wait.

Even with the extra stop planned in, and the most scenic route as possible taken, it still didn’t take them very long to get home. Before either of them could think much of it Bucky was rolling into Tony and Pepper’s driveway.

Bucky had just put the car in park when Morgan jumped out of the car, backpack strap in one hand and happy meal in the other. Bucky shook his head at her, laughing as he got out of the car much slower than she had. He finally felt comfortable enough to take off his gloves, tucking them into the back pocket of his jeans as he walked towards Tony’s porch.

Morgan had left the door opened behind her, so Bucky walked through and closed it as he did. When he looked around the room he saw that Morgan had already made her way over to her father and gotten swept off the ground in a hug.

As Tony was setting her back down on the floor, he asked, “You got some extra fries for me, right?”

Morgan laughed. “No way.”

Tony faked deep offense at her response. “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

Bucky piped in. “I didn’t get you any either, for the record.”

Tony smirked. “That much I expected.”

Morgan looked around the room a little more, and when she didn’t see Pepper, she asked, “Where’s Mom?”

Tony gestured deeper into the house. “She’s out back.”

Morgan tossed both her backpack and her McDonald’s box of food onto the counter. “I’m gonna go say hi!” She pointed at Tony. “Don’t eat my fries.” She turned and pointed at Bucky. “Don’t let him eat my fries.”

Bucky gave a small salute. “Yes ma’am.”

When Morgan had scampered out of the room, Tony’s full attention shifted to Bucky. “Thanks for picking her up—I know it was short-notice.”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Went okay?”

He nodded. “Teacher came out to make sure I wasn’t some kidnapper, but yeah, it went okay.”

Tony chuckled as he opened the fridge. “Figured she would.” He grabbed a beer for himself and offered one to Bucky, when he declined he shrugged with a suit yourself expression and let the door fall shut.

“Why’s your nine-year-old telling me I need to get a girlfriend?” Bucky asked as he watched Tony pop the cap off the bottle.

Tony didn’t miss a beat. “My guess is because you need to get a girlfriend.”

“Tony—”

“You met her teacher then, right?” Tony shrugged and took a sip of his beer. “She’s single. And cu—”

Bucky’s tone shifted drastically as he repeated himself. “Tony.”

The hand that wasn’t holding the beer bottle was held up in mock surrender. “I’m just saying.”

“That why you sent me to pick her up? Is Happy even busy?”

Tony laughed. “Like Happy would ever be too busy to get Morgan from school.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Oh my fuc—”

“Watch it.” Tony lifted the hand he was holding the bottle with, pointing accusingly at him. “There are little ears in the house.”

Bucky sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t need you playing matchmaker.” He leaned forward, bracing his forearms against the smooth dark stone-top of the island. “And I definitely don’t need you roping in your nine-year-old to help.”

“I actually didn’t tell her to say anything to you.”

“I don’t need you talking to her about my love life at all.”

“I was talking to Pepper about it. But hey,” he took another sip, “little ears hear everything.”

He watched as Bucky chuckled in disbelief. Tony knew that it wasn’t his place to say or do anything, that out of everyone he was probably close to the bottom of the list when it came to people who had the right to give dating advice. Even with that being the case, though, Tony had been watching Bucky muddle through and get along without ever really learning to get close to anyone since everything happened with Steve. He was gone now, and while Bucky might’ve accepted that, he still hadn’t really made any moves to let new people in. A girlfriend wouldn’t solve all of those issues, as Pepper had swiftly told him. But it probably also wouldn’t hurt, as Tony had told her in response.

“Gonna make me go to parent-teacher night next?” Bucky asked, his tone light enough to let Tony know that it wasn’t going to turn into an argument for the time being.

“Don’t be ridiculous—you’re not ready for anything more than an open house.”

He scoffed out a laugh. “Thanks.”

They both had plenty more comments to make about the topic but they let it drop as Morgan re-entered the room, Pepper in tow right behind her. Bucky and Tony exchanged a knowing look, one that confirmed that their conversation as on hold for now. Pepper caught it, but knew enough to know not to ask. Instead, she started a new conversation by thanking Bucky for picking Morgan up. He stayed long enough to make a little small talk before excusing himself, making sure to give Morgan another double fist-bump before heading for the door.

“I’ll walk you out,” Tony said, leaving his half-empty beer bottle on the counter.

Bucky knew exactly what Tony was doing, but didn’t say anything. The two of them slipped out the door, and Tony followed him down off the porch and all the way to his car.

When he realized that Bucky wasn’t going to say anything about any of it, he spoke up himself. “I could probably get her number for you.”

“Don’t.”

“Why not? You don’t think she’s—”

“That has nothing to do with it and you know it,” Bucky cut him off. “Just leave it alone, Tony.”

“Mmm.” He shook his head. “Don’t think I can do that. Matter of national security at this point—you’re left unattended an awful lot.”

“And you think I need an elementary teacher to keep me company?”

“She knows how to wrangle kids and keep ‘em in line—sounds perfect for you.”

“Don’t say anything to her.”

Tony stared at Bucky for a long, hard minute. “Fine.”

Bucky didn’t believe it for a second but be also knew that continuing to argue about it wasn’t going to fix anything either. “Thanks.”

They exchanged a quick handshake and a brief goodbye, and soon enough, Bucky was on his way. The drive back to his apartment felt longer than usual, his thoughts wandering in the silence of the car since he didn’t make any move to turn the radio on. He thought about you, not that he would ever give Tony the satisfaction of knowing that, the way you smiled as you balanced your daughter on your hip. He thought about the apparent ease there was between you and Morgan. He thought about your dress and the way it fell just above your knees, the way the bright colors looked so nice and seemed so fitting.

Then he shook his head to dispel the thoughts. Tony was just in his head now, having him overthink about a woman he’d met for all of two minutes. The likelihood of him seeing you again wasn’t very high, not unless Tony started asking him to play chauffer for Morgan a lot more often, and somehow he didn’t really see that happening.

When he walked into his apartment, Bucky was immediately greeted by Alpine running up and rubbing against his legs. He chuckled, crouching down so that he could give him a light scratch behind his ears. Part of it was because Alpine was happy to have his owner home, Bucky was sure. But the other part was about the fact that it was definitely past Alpine’s usual dinnertime. Bucky understood all of that.

“I know,” his metal fingers can down Alpine’s spine, causing him to arch and purr, “I’m late.”

The next few minutes was just Bucky hanging up his jacket, giving Alpine his dinner, and then pulling something out of the freezer to cook for his own dinner as well. While he was waiting for the oven to finish pre-heating, the only sound that could be heard was Alpine crunching on his kibble as he stood above his bowl. Bucky watched him for a moment, a small smile on his face at the simplicity of the life he had now. Something that for a long time he didn’t think he would ever have.

It was a good life. It was quieter now than it had been for a long time—he was almost used to it. But maybe Tony was right, not that Bucky would ever tell him as much in so many words, but there might’ve been something to what Tony had been trying to tell him. A truth that was simpler to ignore because continuing on as he had been required far less work than trying to get to know someone, trying to let someone get to know him.

He pulled his phone out, tempted to search your name just to see what would pop up, what he would be able to learn about you. Then he stopped himself, shaking his head to try and dispel the thoughts. What good would it do? Why was he thinking like you were someone he knew already? Or like you were someone that already knew him? For all he knew, you’d forgotten him already. Hell, for all he knew you had no desire to get to know anyone, let alone someone like him. The beeping of his oven saved him from going down that spiral any further.

~*~

Sam was sitting on the stool to Bucky’s left. The music in the bar was loud, but not so much so that they had to shout to talk to each other. But once Bucky processed the sentence that Sam had just spoken to him, he instantly wished that the music was loud enough so that he couldn’t hear the other man at all.

Bucky pulled a long drink from the beer bottle in his hand, gloved fingers wrapped tightly around the neck of it. “Can’t believe he got you in on this shit too.”

Sam shrugged, unfazed by Bucky’s blatant annoyance. “I’m just sayin’, I think the guy might have a point.”

“Since when do you agree with Stark?”

Sam laughed. “I’ll agree with anybody if I think they’re right!” He paused, studied the look on Bucky’s face and then added on with a laugh, “Well, yeah, not you. But other people.”

Bucky tried to keep his annoyed expression but then chuckled. “Fuck you.”

Sam wasn’t going to let the conversation get derailed. “Alright, so you don’t like the girl he was telling you about, so why don’t you—”

“I didn’t say—”

“They got apps for that now. Oh, sorry,” Sam held up his hand in a pausing motion, “Apps are things that you can put on your pho—”

Bucky’s brows knit together. “I know what apps are.”

Sam allowed himself a minute to laugh at his own joke before saying, “So it’s not the girl. Then, what? Afraid you left all your game back in the forties?”

He shook his head, eyes suddenly glued down to his beer bottle. “Sure, yeah. Something like that.”

“Want my advice?”

“No.”

Sam gave it anyway. “Get over it.” He ignored the increasingly annoyed look on Bucky’s face. “Go buy a girl a drink. Ask her for her number. Use whatever corny line you used back in the nineteen hundreds the last time you had to pretend to have some game.”

Bucky didn’t want to laugh but he couldn’t stop himself. Sam might’ve been oversimplifying but Bucky was also vaguely aware of the fact that he was overcomplicating things for himself. “I’ll think about it. But,” he paused to point at Sam accusingly while he grabbed a sip of his beer, “I didn’t have to pretend to have game. I had it—have. I have it.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Riiiight.”

The topic dropped, and they moved onto talking about other things. There were frequent pauses in the conversation, both of them turning to look at people coming into the bar. Neither of them ever thought they would fully break that habit, no matter how often they went out into the world as civilians.

The door let out a quiet chime, and Bucky’s head instinctively snapped in the direction to see who was coming in. His eyes widened and he stopped himself in the middle of the sentence that he was saying to Sam. There was no brain to mouth filter as he let out a quiet, “Shit.”

Sam’s face contorted in confusion as he turned to see what it was that had Bucky reacting that way. He looked over, his confusion immediately shifting into a smug grin when he saw you standing in the doorway. Bucky hadn’t even given Sam a description of what you looked like, but he could tell from Bucky’s reaction that there was no way that you could possibly be anyone else.

“Talk about good timing,” Sam joked.

Bucky was still staring at you, not that you’d noticed, as he spoke to Sam. “Shut up.”

“Now’s the time.”

He fought the urge to shove him off the stool. “I said shut up.”

You were only a couple steps inside the bar, you phone clutched tightly in one hand as you looked around the semi-tight space. The focused furrow of your brow said that you were looking for someone. The tight black jeans and lacy grey top you were wearing said that you were probably looking for your date. There were five million reasons Bucky felt his mouth go dry and none of them were doing him any good.

He saw the rise and fall of your shoulders as you let out a sigh. You typed on your phone for a moment before making your way over to the bar, carefully weaving your way through the clusters of other patrons. The closer you got, the more Bucky hoped that the floor would open up and swallow him whole. You were so focused on getting to the bar and snagging a rare empty seat, that you didn’t even notice that the seat was next to him until after you’d ordered your drink. You wouldn’t have looked in his direction at all if you hadn’t heard someone laughing.

When you turned, the first thing you saw was Bucky, the familiar face and leather jacket. The next thing you noticed was the man on the other side of him, the source of said laughter. You tilted your head as your eyes made their way back to Bucky. You allowed yourself a laugh of your own. “Bucky?”

He nodded, clearing his throat. “H-hey. Yeah, hi.”

“So funny seeing you here!” You paused, looking back and forth between him and the man next to him. “How are you?”

He nodded again, pulling the words up one by one. “Good. I’m good. You?”

“I’m, um,” you chuckled awkwardly, “I’m alright, I think? Supposed to be meeting someone here but,” you glanced around, “I don’t see them yet.”

The man on the other side of Bucky leaned across him and held his hand out. “I’m Sam, by the way.” He flashed you a charming grin. “Not the person you were looking for, but figured I’d introduce myself anyway since this guy wasn’t going to.”

You laughed as you told him your name. “Nice to meet you, Sam.”

The three of you chit-chatted, and you tried not to think too much about the way that Bucky was looking at you. You were putting too much thought into it, you were certain. Maybe you were just projecting, taking all the growing disappointment you were feeling about your supposed “date” still not being there and channeling it into the way that Bucky seemed to be so attentively listening to you.

Taking another sip from the straw in your drink, you checked the time on your phone one more time. Letting out a deep sigh, you looked over at Bucky, and Sam too. “I’m glad I ran into you two tonight, because from the looks of it the person that I came out to see is not showing up.” You shoved your phone back into the pocket of your jeans with a shake of your head.

“He’s an idiot,” Sam chimed in without hesitation.

You laughed and nodded. “I appreciate the sentiment.” You finished off your drink and you didn’t try to dissuade the bartender who was grabbing your glass and heading off to make you another. Looking back at the two of them, you said, “My friends were the ones who convinced me to get on those stupid dating apps anyway.” You shook your head. “Lotta good it did, huh?”

Bucky nodded, shooting a pointed look at Sam as he said, “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

Sam was laughing, but Bucky noticed the way that he was moving to throw some cash down on the bar. He gathered up his jacket as he got off the stool. “Well, not to be the bearer of more bad news, but I gotta take off.” He clapped Bucky on the shoulders as he walked by. “But you two crazy kids stay out and have some fun. It was very nice to meet you.” He flashed the two of you another grin. “Call if you need bail money. Not me, but, you know, call somebody.”

You laughed as you and Bucky each said goodbye to him. The two of you watched him as he practically skipped out of the bar and out onto the street. Bucky was caught between wishing he could chase Sam down and tackle him, and wishing he could skip right out the door alongside him. There was no buffer between the two of you anymore, and Bucky felt so strangely exposed.

“Sorry about your date,” Bucky finally offered up.

You smiled good-naturedly. “I’m not that heartbroken over it,” you said honestly as the bartender set your fresh drink down in front of you. “My expectations were pretty low, but, you know,” you took a sip, “not so low that I assumed he wasn’t gonna be here.”

Bucky chuckled. “That’s fair.”

“Honestly, I’m just more pissed off that I wasted one of my few free weekend evenings on some guy who didn’t even bother texting me to cancel.”

“Few?”

You smiled as you said, “My daughter. Every other week she’s with her dad. I miss her when she’s gone, so I try to stay busy. Usually with friends, but every now and then it’s some pipe-dream of a date.” You took another sip. “They usually do show up, though, at the risk of making myself sound horrible desperate,” you joked.

Bucky laughed. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

Your smile softened a touch, but it was still there. “Well, thank you for that at least.”

You had every intention of finishing off your drink, paying your tab, and heading right home. You weren’t typically one for staying out all hours in a bar or a club somewhere, even when you were out with your friends. And, as nice as it was that you had a chance run-in with Bucky when everything else seemed to be going wrong, you were still ready to turn it in and go home. Back to your pajamas and fuzzy blankets.

That’s not what happened, however, despite your best intentions. Somewhere along the way you switched from cocktails to soda just for the sake of being able to stay longer without getting too much of a buzz as you talked to Bucky. He wasn’t exactly a chatterbox, per se, and you hadn’t really expected him to be. The two of you managed to keep up a good pace of back and forth regardless of that. He did a little more listening than he did talking but it didn’t seem to bother him. It also made you realize that even though you had your friends, and your fellow teachers at school, there weren’t a whole lot of times when you went out to socialize with other adults. It also didn’t hurt that Bucky was so nice to look at, that he seemed to be just as interested in looking right back at you.

You’d both lost track of time as you sat there, and when you were both finally making your way towards the door of the bar, it was much later than either of you had bargained for. The two of you walked, and Bucky pulled the door open for you. The two of you were mid-conversation when you landed back out on the sidewalk. It was only then that you realized you probably weren’t going to be heading in the same direction.

Bucky watched as you motioned back over your shoulder, the opposite direction from the way he was heading. “I’m parked this way, but, it was really good seeing you. What are the chances, right?” You laughed lightly.

He smiled, nodded. “Yeah. It was, um,” he could feel the words that he wanted to say resting on the tip of his tongue and he was conflicted about whether or not he wanted to actually say them, “it was good to see you again.” He paused, hating every bit of hesitation that he was feeling. “Do you, um, I was wondering,” he was reaching for the pocket of his jacket for his phone as he fumbled his way through the question, “I mean on your next free weekend…”

You felt your face warm as he continued on. You knew where the line of questioning was going, and part of you knew that maybe you should put him out of his misery. But it was sweet, and you were enjoying that. Finally, you nodded. “That’d be nice.”

He let out a sigh of relief as he took his phone out. “Great. Okay, yeah. I’ll…I’ll call you. You know,” he managed a smile with a little more ease, “save you from all the apps.”

You laughed as you typed your name and number in. “You’re a lifesaver.”

In the back of his mind he knew that he should be making some sort of move now. Walk you to your car, give you a hug, something. But if asking for your number was as difficult as it had proven itself to be, he didn’t know what it was going to be like trying to manage anything else. So he took the win, and bid you goodnight.

Over the course of the next couple days, he was caught between wanting to tell both Tony and Sam separately that he’d gotten your number. He thought maybe it would help get them off his back. What he didn’t want, though, was for them to just get on his case about a whole new slew of things. He also didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing that they’d been right.

So, instead of reaching out to either of them, he texted you instead. It was casual at first, just brief messages here and there. Texting wasn’t his favorite way to stay in touch with people, but he at least recognized that it was what people did now.

He called you once, when he wanted to actually try and make plans to see you. That conversation wasn’t one that he wanted to have over text, and he told you as much. You also found that to be sweet as well. It wasn’t a long conversation, one taking place while you made dinner and your daughter was busy with her toys in the living room. But the two of you settled on a date, a time, and that he would come by your place to pick you up. You couldn’t remember the last time you smiled so much while making pasta.

~*~

“Tony is never gonna let you hear the end of this when he finds out,” Sam said as he sat down at Bucky’s kitchen counter.

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky grabbed drinks out of his fridge. “That’s why I haven’t said anything to him about it.”

“Nothing?!”

“No!” Bucky said, breaking down into laughter after a moment. “You gonna tell him?”

“What, you think that we’re texting about you all the time?” Sam shook his head. “Get over yourself.”

Bucky was about to come back with something snarky as per usual when his phone chimed on the counter. Sam looked, too nosey to stop himself. The grin that spread across his face when he saw your name on the screen. At the look on Sam’s face, Bucky’s instinct was to reach and flip the phone over, but he stopped himself. Instead, he grabbed his phone and messaged you back before setting it down.

“You wanna call me while you’re getting ready?” Sam joked. “I’ll help you pick out an outfit. Tell you how to do your hair.”

Bucky chuckled. “Fuck you.”

~*~

He didn’t call Sam before the date. He also hadn’t heard anything from Tony which led him to believe that Sam had been kind enough to keep his mouth shut. That was all well and good, but he wished that it did anything to soothe the nerves that he was feeling as he stood outside your door.

He felt like an awkward sixteen-year-old again as he stood on your front step. He rang the doorbell, flowers clutched tightly in his hand as he waited. He’d spoken to you earlier, and you had seemed excited about it all still. That gave him hope. But again, it still wasn’t enough to eradicate the lingering feelings of anxiety he had.

Another few seconds passed by and then you pulled open the door. You were smiling at him as you were trying to do the latch on your necklace. “Hey! Sorry, I still have to get my shoes on and stuff. Please,” you stepped back and nodded for him to step inside, “come in. I’ll be ready in like, two minutes.”

He smiled as he somewhat nervously followed your instructions, stepping just past the threshold of your house. “Take your time,” he said calmly as he shut the door behind him.

He looked around while you finished putting on your jewelry and went to grab your shoes. He wasn’t sure what he had been picturing your house looking like, but what he saw felt fitting. It was tidy considering how young your daughter was. There were some toys scattered about in patches, framed photos on the walls and drawings tacked onto the fridge by magnets. It was a home in a way that none of Bucky’s places since he came back had ever been.

“Okay,” you said as you reappeared, smoothing out your blouse, “I’m ready. Sor—” you stopped short when you finally noticed the bouquet of flowers in his hand. The smile on your face was wide enough to make your cheeks hurt. “Those are beautiful.”

Bucky’s eyes widened for a moment, like he’d forgotten that he had them. He held them out to you. “Just figured, you know…”

You smiled as you took them, flitting off to the kitchen so that you could put them in a vase with water. “Thank you.”

As the two of you drove, you could feel him slowly starting to relax. The two of you talked, and you could see the way that his grip on the steering wheel started to become less vice-like. There was something refreshing in the way that he opened the car door for you, and the door to the diner that the two of you had agreed on. He sat down across from you in the booth and you noticed the way that he still had his gloves on as he looked through the menu. You wanted to ask but you didn’t—if he wanted to say something about it you had a feeling that he would.

The conversation felt easy, the same way it had been that night at the bar. The only difference now was the feeling in the air. There was a different kind of tension now that hadn’t been there before. Sure, you’d been attracted to him even then, but that hadn’t been a date. Not like this.

Every now and then if one of you shifted in your seat and your feet or legs would brush. Neither of you said anything about it, but you could feel the upward curl of your own lips as it happened, the occasional pink flush of Bucky’s cheeks. Sometimes it’d make him stumble in his sentence and you’d do him the courtesy of not commenting on it.

The two of you were splitting a piece of pie for dessert, something you insisted on because you knew the woman who baked them for the diner. It wasn’t as though Bucky put up any great fight about it. The closer the two of you got to finishing it, the more you engaged in low-stakes warfare, dueling with your forks over the pieces with the best crust-to-filling ratio.

“You can have the last bite,” you conceded with a laugh, leaning back in the booth.

“Oh, come on,” he joked, “it doesn’t feel good to win by forfeit.”

You laughed, warmth blossoming up your neck and across your face. “It’s not forfeit. Think of it as, I don’t know,” you drummed your fingers against the tabletop, “me being nice since it was your first time here.” You paused, studying the amused look on his face. “That better?”

He shrugged, a smirk on his face. “Little bit.”

The two of you walked back out to his car, and you found yourself walking much closer to his side than you had been on the way in. Your arm brushed against his as the two of you walked, and you found yourself about half a step away from leaning into his side.

He reached to open the car door for you, but before he could you leaned back against it so that you were facing him. You let one arm hang by your side, with the other you brought your palm so that it rested against his chest, pads of your fingertips pressing lightly against the leather.

Bucky almost pulled away out of reflex, but he didn’t. “Yes?”

You shook your head, still smiling. “Nothing, nothing.” You let your hand drop, the pads of your fingers dragging for a moment before your arm was back at your side once more. You moved just enough so that he could open the door again for you. “Thank you.”

Bucky walked you up to the door of your house, and he felt like his heart was beating clean up into the back of his throat. He didn’t remember dating being this nerve-wracking before. You seemed perfectly unfazed, though as you sauntered up and slipped your key into the lock.

“You wanna come in?” you offered as you opened the door. “Have a drink?”

It took more effort to swallow than it should have. “Oh. Yeah, sure.”

You chuckled. “If you don’t want to—”

“I do,” he reassured, his voice earnest.

Your smiled grew. “Okay.” You stepped and waved him in with you. “C’mon.” You noticed the way that he still had his jacket and gloves on when you came back out of the kitchen with a bottle in each hand. You handed one over to him. “Nothing fancy, but it’s also usually just me drinking them, so…”

He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s fine.”

There were a few beats of silence, each of you sipping out of your bottles before you said, “You don’t do this a lot, do you?”

His eyes widened for a moment, slight panic. “What?”

Your smile was warm as you gestured with your hand that held the bottle. “This. Dates. Not…not your thing, is it?”

He held the bottle between both his hands. “I’m…out of practice, yeah.” He cleared his throat. “That noticeable?”

You shook your head. “Not really. You just seemed, I don’t know, a little nervous. And I don’t know why a guy who looks like you would have any reason to be nervous on a date other than…”

“Other than I don’t go on them,” he finished with a soft laugh.

Your face heated up as you smiled. “Kinda.”

“How’d I do?” he asked, mostly joking.

You stepped in closer to him, noticing a different kind of tension in his body. “You’re doing great.”

He huffed out a laugh but it was much softer than he intended, betraying more of his real feelings than he bargained for. “This part?” He made a small gesture between you. “This part I’m really,” he forced out a puff of air through his teeth, “yeah.”

There was a flutter of butterflies in your stomach, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. “Want some help?”

He laughed but he didn’t say no, didn’t move away. He swallowed hard as you took the bottle from his hand and set them both on the coffee table in your living room. He was fighting hard to say something—ideally something smooth but at this point he would’ve settled for just about anything. Within seconds you were standing close to him again, bodies a breath away from being pressed flush against each other. Your hands rested on his chest for a moment, and you waited to see if he would change his mind and pull away—you were giving him the chance. But then you felt his hands tentatively land on your hips and you smiled, your body easing against his. You brought one hand up to the side of his face, thumb caressing his cheekbone.

“Not so bad,” you asked softly, “right?”

He shook his head, finally forcing out a quiet, “No, it’s not.”

You smiled and leaned in, lightly pressing your lips to his. It was delicate, fleeting—you were pulling away as quickly as you’d leaned in. The sliver of space left between your lips and his was the silent ask for him to let you know if this was the end of the night or not. He could pull away from you, no harm no foul, or he could lean in and kiss you again and figure it out from there.

It felt like you were both holding your breath for a moment, faces just too close to be able to get a good look in each other’s eyes. You were about to pull back to really look at him when he leaned in and kissed you, more conviction than the quick gesture from before. You readily gave into him, hand sliding from his cheek to the back of his head to keep him pulled to you. As his lips moved against yours, one of his hands slid so that it was resting at the center of the small of your back.

The two of you stayed like that in the middle of your living room, all locking lips and wandering hands. You would’ve let the entire night fall away spent just like that and been more than fine with it. When the two of you finally came back up for air, when Bucky pulled away from you enough to really look into your eyes, you saw that more than anything he was surprised. Maybe it was at you, maybe it was at himself, but regardless it was there. Underneath that, though, you could see that there was something more. His hand that wasn’t on the small of your back came up to cup your chin, the leather of his gloves smooth to the touch against your skin. He tilted your chin just slightly and then your lips were back on his again.

Out of instinct you tugged down the zipper of his jacket. Your hands came up to his shoulders, getting ready to push his jacket down off of them. It was only then that he pulled away from you again, breathless as he desperately searched your face.

“What?” you asked gently, pausing your movements.

“Nothing, nothing. I,” he pressed his lips into a thin line for a moment. “I wasn’t expecting…I just…”

“If it’s too much,” you said, taking a small step back, “we can—”

“No,” he stopped you short, shaking his head. “It’s not that. I just…” He took a breath. “Do you know? Who I am?”

You chuckled. “You’re friends with Iron Man and Falcon. I,” you shrugged, “I connected some dots along the way.”

He laughed, a sound of relief. “A lot of people don’t…you know…”

“A lot of people don’t have people from The Avengers dropping off school snacks once a week.” You paused and let both of you laugh. Allowing your tone to get a little more serious, you said, “I know, Bucky,” you moved once more to push his jacket down off his shoulders, “and it’s okay.”

He allowed you to do it, allowed his jacket to drop to the floor. Even with the long-sleeve shirt that he had on underneath, you could see the difference between his arms. You brought your hands to his, helping him pull the gloves off next. He was holding his breath—you could tell. When his gloves were off you ran your fingers along each of his palms, skin and metal, with equal delicate care.

When you looked into his eyes again you saw the way he was looking at you—bewildered, eager. You brought one hand back to his face again, urging him back towards you. It was a cue that he gladly took, kissing you with fervor. His hands were on your sides, and when he felt the way your other hand was running up his arm, he couldn’t stop himself, from letting his hands slip beneath the fabric of your shirt.

It’d been so long, he realized as his hands roamed your sides and back, since he’d last felt someone like this. When your fingers slid underneath the collar of his shirt, splaying across what they could reach where the nape of his neck turned stretched into his shoulders, he also realized that it’d been a long time since he’d let someone feel him like this too.

All the nerves, the tension of the night, it all started to melt away as he felt you reaching for the bottom hem of his shirt to pull off over his head. He didn’t want to stop you, and he knew that that meant something. Maybe they’d all been right—maybe there was something to letting someone else in again. As he felt the warmth of your palms against his skin, he could only hope that the rest of it felt this good too.

[writing-for-marvel]

A Solid Foundation

Builder!Bucky Barnes x Fiancé!Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friend suspects your fiancé of having an affair when he starts working late, but Bucky would never cheat on you, right?

Warnings: slight angst - discussion of Bucky potentially cheating (no actual cheating), soft fluff

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: thank you so much for this gorgeous inspiration my love 💕 this is my second entry for the Connect 4: Into an Alternate June-iverse Event by @buckybarnesevents, for the prompt ‘Modern AU’. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

“Where’s Bucky? You two just got engaged, I would have thought he’d barely be able to keep his hands off you - he does at the best of times.” Nat jokes before taking a sip of her wine.

She had been stopping off at your apartment on her way home to drop some supplies for your engagement party next weekend, when you invited her to stay for a drink, wanting to take your mind off your fiancés absence.

“He’s been working late recently.” You try to say nonchalantly, but Nat’s far too observant to miss the disheartened edge to your voice.

“He’s a builder. Start early, finish early, what’s he doing still working at 6:30?” You didn’t know the answer to that question. And though part of you is curious as to what he’s up to, you’re also nervous to find out the truth.

It’s Bucky, the man who has loved you through every high and low, treasured every part of you, especially on those days where your insecurities were at their worst. Who has done the silliest, most embarrassing things just to hear your laugh. Who trusted you enough to reveal his deepest trauma, who comes to your arms for comfort through every nightmare.

You find it difficult to believe that man would be capable of hurting you, even knowing he hadn’t been completely forthcoming with you the past few weeks.

“I’m not sure, he’s been a little secretive since we got engaged. I don’t wanna push him to talk about it, I just wish he knew he can trust me with whatever it is.” You say as Nat supportively takes your hand, something of sympathy in her eyes.

“Oh sweetie, you are far too pure for this world. Working late, the ring, the secrecy - has it crossed your mind that he might be having an affair?”

“It crossed my mind for half a second before I scolded myself. It’s Bucky, he would never cheat on me.” You state with conviction, the memory of each night you’ve fallen to a peaceful sleep in Bucky’s arms only supporting your belief that he would never put himself in that position with someone else.

“As much as I want to believe you, you know I’m a cynic. In my experience men are pigs, you give them an inch and they take a mile. I know he’s sweet and you love him, but at the end of the day, he is a man.”

But Nat doesn’t know Bucky intimately like you do, hasn’t experienced his selfless and generous heart day after day for the past two years, hasn’t been loved all-encompassingly by him like you have.

You’ve never even thought to question his loyalty to you - Bucky has never given you reason to.

You hear keys rattle in the front door and shoot Nat a look which unquestionably screams don’t bring this up.

Bucky smiles instantly when he sees you seated at the dining table, that same adoration and serenity brimming in his eyes as when he always comes home to you. Though you do notice his skin is somewhat flushed, as if he’s just been physically exerting himself, his hair looks a complete mess and appears slightly darker with sweat.

You know exactly what’s running through Nat’s mind at this very moment.

“I’m gonna let you two talk.” She declares with a perceptible tension in her tone as she stands and grabs her purse. “But I swear if you ever hurt her Bucko, you’ll die a slow, painful death.” She vows with a glare that seals her promise. Though you know Nat well enough to perceive she isn’t joking, Bucky seems to think she’s kidding.

“Duly noted Nattie.” He chuckles as he watches Nat shoot you an encouraging look and then make her way out the front door Bucky just walked through. “What was that all about?”

“She’s just being protective.” You justify, not knowing how to, nor really wanting to tell him that your best friend suspects he’s having an affair. “I told her you’d been working late recently.”

“What… she thinks I should instead be here doting on you hand and foot?” Bucky asks as he moves behind where you’re seated, his hands reach for the back of your neck and begin massaging the tension from your shoulders which had built up from your long week at work. “You know I’d much prefer to be here with you than working.” You shudder slightly at his words as he places a gentle kiss to the skin where your neck curves into your shoulder, your body subconsciously revealing that you don’t fully believe he was working.

“What’s wrong, doll?” He asks, feeling your muscles tense even further underneath his hands, and you internally curse yourself for letting Nat’s speculation get under your skin.

“Where were you tonight?” It’s a simple, four word question, yet the weight of significance on his answer feels like your whole world could start crumbling before you depending on his response.

“I told you this morning: Steve needed me working late.” Bucky replies without hesitation. It’s a straightforward answer, yet there’s something about it you can’t quite believe - a half truth that he’s practised too much that doesn’t quite feel natural. “Why do you ask?” There’s a hint of worry to his voice, as if you’re getting a little too close to something he’d like to keep to himself.

“Nat thinks ‘working late’ is code for you cheating on me.” You comment, placing all the blame on your friends postulation rather than your own curiosity.

You hope Bucky won’t hate you too much for indulging in your friends theory, that he won’t completely resent you for insinuating he’s been unfaithful. Because you don’t think he’s cheating on you, but you also don’t believe he was working late tonight.

Instead, Bucky steps towards you and tentatively places two gentle fingers under your chin, tilting your face so that you’re gazing directly into his vulnerable, sincere eyes.

“Doll, you know I would never, ever, hurt you like that. I love you, you’re my whole world, I wanna marry you and spend the rest of my days making you feel as loved and cherished as you make me feel.” You sense the heaviness of your engagement ring on your left hand, you’re still getting used to carrying the small weight of it around with you everyday, though right now it feels substantial.

“I know you wouldn’t Buck, but since you proposed you’ve been a little secretive. Long days, working weekends. I mean you have to admit it’s slightly suspicious.”

He sighs, coming to some sort of internal decision when his gaze meets yours again. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you in an attempt to distract you from the topic of discussion.

“I promise you, I can explain everything, but I think it would be easier to show you.” His hands snake down your arms and when he takes both your hands, pulls you from your seated position at the dining table.

“Show me?” You query, having no idea what that could indicate he’s been keeping to himself.

“Yeah, care for a drive?”

* * *

The night is dark as you sit in the passenger seat watching the world pass you by, the empty roads only lit by periodically placed street lamps and the bright headlights of Bucky’s truck.

You have no idea where he’s taking you - you’ve never been to this part of town before and have no preconceived ideas as to what being here indicates for his unplanned surprise.

Bucky drives with one hand on the steering wheel, the other rests comfortingly on your thigh, an indicator that he’s not upset about you insinuating he could be having an affair, and that where he’s taking you to is not a revelation you should be anxious about.

Soon enough he turns down an innocuous street and pulls the car to a slow stop. You're in the middle of a suburban area with expansive blocks of land, stopped a few metres behind an SUV that has stickers of a family of five and a dog on their back window. Looking over at Bucky, you find he’s staring at you with an excited expectancy from the driver's seat.

You turn to look out the car window and the reason Bucky’s been ‘working late’ hits you like a bus.

You’re parked in front of a half built house - at the moment it’s just studs and partitions, with an unemptied skip out the front, but you can see the skeleton of a beautifully spacious two story house.

He’s building you a home.

“Bucky…” You comment under your breath, unable to articulate the swarm of thoughts buzzing around your head and the pure love blooming in your chest like a flower as he rounds the car and opens the passenger door for you.

“I know it doesn’t look like much yet, it’s just the frame and foundation, but soon there will be a roof, walls, windows, and a proper floor. It’ll really start taking shape.” He's nervous, you can tell by his shaky tone of voice, which you find adorable.

“You’re building us a house?” Your stomach contorts with guilt when he smiles crookedly and nods. How could you have ever been suspicious of his long working hours when they were spent building a physical monument to his love for you?

“I wanted to build our dream house, somewhere we can grow old together.” Your heart just about bursts when these words fall from his lips. Though the night is dark, the moon and the small torch Bucky keeps in his truck are the only source of light available, you can see the fondness in his eyes.

You give him a sweet kiss before approaching the house, an outline in chalk on the ground indicates where a front porch will be built and the entry to the house is currently only the rectangular frame of timber.

Bucky starts walking you through the house hand in hand, explaining what he had planned each room to be used for. There's only wooden studs outlining every room and a concrete slab for a floor, but you can already imagine what the space will look like when it’s all complete.

The entry foyer has high ceilings where you can currently see the stars shining, a large winding staircase connects the ground floor with the one above. To one side is a large garage, an offset office and bathroom, to the other has a large sitting room.

As Bucky pulls you further into the structure, the house opens up to a large, open plan living area. You can picture cooking together in the kitchen, room enough for a large island where you can sit and watch as Bucky cooks you breakfast, sneaking kisses in between breaking eggs. A smile grows on your features as you imagine what the future holds for you two, and what you envisage is beautiful.

He shows you where he thinks the lounge room television would go, before steering you to the right to an open room where the walls don’t have horizontal studs like all the other rooms you’ve seen so far.

“And this will be your sunroom.” He comments, eying you with a smile as your jaw drops in awe.

“A sunroom?” You ask as your voice cracks and hot tears well in your eyes.

Your dream house always seemed so far out of reach, you wondered if you would ever earn enough to own a place of your own. But it didn’t stop you from wishing for your dream house. That concept had changed over the years, but the one aspect which remained the same was it containing a sunroom. A place where you could sit in quiet contemplation and read your plethora of novels in peace, the warm afternoon sun heating the room as you draped your legs over beloveds, finding tranquillity together.

Bucky really is making all your dreams come true.

“It wouldn’t be our dream home if we didn’t have the sunroom you always wished for. This entire wall will be a huge built-in bookshelf, then the rest will be just glass, looking out over our backyard and have the perfect view of the setting sun.”

You find yourself completely lost for words, unable to articulate how remarkable this entire house is, that he built it for you, and how you will forever come home to a physical reminder of just how much Bucky loves you.

“If there’s anything you don’t like I’ll change it. I want it to be perfect, I want you to love it.” He says as if he can’t see that you already adore every inch of the house he’s built, thinking that your silence indicates aversion rather than pure amazement.

“Bucky, it’s already perfect.” You lean over to kiss him, slow and sweet, because you need to express the overwhelming gratitude and affection for him doing something so special for you. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you when you were putting in your spare hours to build us a home.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry, doll, I shouldn’t have lied to you about where I was and what I was doing, but I wanted it to be a surprise.” His arms snake around your middle and pull you closer to him so none of the cool night air separates you.

“It is a surprise, such a wonderful surprise. I love you so much and I can’t wait to spend our life together here.” You say, looking up at him with wide eyes, only closing them to kiss the stubble on his sharp jawline.

“I love you more than you’ll ever know.” Bucky places a kiss to your forehead, his voice soft but heartfelt and full of tenderness.

For a moment you stay cuddled into his strong, warm chest, his arms gently stroking up and down your back in soothing motions, feeling completely loved and so excited to start your marriage in a new home together.

“Will you show me the bedrooms upstairs?” You ask with a small voice, part of you not wanting to move from Bucky’s embrace, but also intrigued to see how much more work he’s done in the name of love for you.

“Of course, my love.”

He kisses you once more, for emphasis, before guiding you carefully upstairs to show you the spacious master bedroom where you will be spending your first nights as a married couple.

If you're interested in seeing the floorplan I based the house off, you can find that here

[buckets-and-trees]

Talk

Characters/Pairings: Pleasure Dom!Bucky x Female!Reader Word Count: 2k Summary: He's ready to give you everything you want and things you don't even know you need yet.

Content/Concept Warnings: BDSM AU, discussion of BDSM themes, oral (female receiving), praise kink, dirty talk, overstimulation, forced orgasm

Notes: TRIPLE THREAT SUBMISSION for @buckybarnesevents WEEK TWO of Hot Bucky Summer: "What Should I Call You?", my fourth square of @buckybarnesbingo K4 "Kink: Forced Orgasm, and my second square for Connect4 Alternate June-iverse: C2 "BDSM." Also, @biteofcherry, you totally called the BDSM vibes from that little last line tag game sentence I posted the other day - it was this, mwahaha!

Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You sat sideways on the couch, your arm draped over the back, legs tucked up comfortably beneath you. He mirrored your position, though with just one leg brought lazily up onto the couch, leaving his impressively thick thighs spread wide, teasing your fantasies.

Indulging fantasy was why you were there in the first place.

And you almost felt like this was any normal kind of Saturday afternoon with the new boyfriend you were eager to crawl into the lap of and be devoured by for the first time.

The setting fit – cozy living room of a sophisticated man’s apartment with leather furniture, modern art on the walls, small but sufficient kitchen, floor to ceiling windows along one side of the room that led to a private balcony, and a door that you knew would lead to the bedroom.

But it was just a little too tasteful to be real.

And he didn’t live here.

It was all designed to make you feel comfortable, an indulgent illusion of reality.

“You’re sure you’re not thirsty?” he asked.

He hadn’t offered anything alcoholic – strictly against policy so you were both sober – but you declined again with a shake of your head.

“Okay,” he said, “but remember it’s my role to make sure you always feel safe and taken care of, and that includes the small things like getting you a drink, and you can change your mind at any point. You’re not a burden. We are here for you and what you want.”

Warmth bloomed through your core – tinged with desire, but mostly just heat that was part comfort and part reticence. You had never taken such a bold measure of self-indulgence or self-care or self-discovery or whatever this could be called. It had taken almost two months for you to get from scoffing at the suggestion to sitting in the room on this couch across from the brunette Adonis who had said to call him Bucky (a nickname – you were asked to give a nickname as well when you registered and had gone with Rio).

“The last thing we should discuss, if you’re ready to move forward, is your safe word.”

“Brazil,” you responded without hesitation.

He smirked, but it was in no way unkind. “Rio and Brazil – I’m sensing a theme.”

“Another thing on the list of dreams to finally indulge,” the words tumbled out of your mouth.

“I hope that’s another thing you’ll choose to pursue.”

You laughed. “God, it’s so weird just how normal all this conversation feels. We just spoke at length about my kinks and limits and now I’m telling you my hopes and dreams. I’ve rarely shared this much of myself to anyone, and certainly not after only knowing them for less than an hour.”

“Well, part of that is that we all feel a little safer exposing ourselves to strangers because they’re not part of our routine,” Bucky said, “but there’s some trust that’s established by the mere act of us talking about your boundaries. It’s certainly a foundational part of the process. This only works when you feel comfortable with me, if you trust me – otherwise you cannot truly submit to me as your dominant in this arrangement.”

You nodded.

“Trust, strong communication – without them, there’s no way I can expect you to reasonably let go of your inhibitions either,” he soothed, moving his hand forward to brush his fingers over yours.

“The world of BDSM and kink is vast, but it shouldn’t be overwhelming. I never want you to feel like you’re an Alice who’s fallen down a rabbit hole and exposed to and expected to navigate the wonderland on your own.”

“I appreciate that. There’s…” you hesitated, but his rapt attention helped you feel like you could continue the thought on the tip of your tongue. “There’s a lot on the internet – a lot that I thought I knew about this stuff, but even just the registration and profile of preferences I had to fill out was pretty illuminating.”

After the basic registration you had been directed to complete an Experience and Curiosity Checklist that walked you through over 250 different activities and indicate whether you had tried it before or not, your pleasure during that activity if you had, and then a ranking of if you would like to try or do it in this setting – from never to need, if each activity was something you would entertain in a consensually forced situation, and if you would give, receive, or were up for both.

“Illuminating, huh?” Bucky grinned.

You felt just a touch of heat rise in your cheeks.

“You’re incredibly smart, and I like that,” he said, his grin turning to a softer smile. “That long and thorough profile? It’s the key to all of this – it’s not only for you, but also for me. I was matched to you ahead of anyone else on our staff. I’ve been preparing for you.”

“Like studying up?” you interjected.

“Of course, and the time we’ve spent up until now talking is for both of us, as well. You have a question you want to ask, something that wasn’t fully clear to you through your own research and filling out the profile. Ask it.” He tapped gently on your fingers, another motion of reassurance, connection.

“Forced orgasms.”

“I’m not surprised you would want to know more about that particular aspect.”

“I get the general concept, but I guess I don’t understand how that translates into practice,” you admitted.

Bucky nodded. “Sex should be engaged in for intimacy and pleasure – sometimes only pleasure, but not all the partners we are involved with are people we would trust to push us beyond our limits – either because a relationship is new, it’s a one-time thing, or because we don’t know how to communicate the limits and boundaries. Just like anything else, sex is a part of our experience as humans that we learn and grow and change with. A forced orgasm is a way to explore pleasure and power dynamics, but there must be that established trust. They can be both physically and emotionally intense because it could be exploring something new or pushing you past limits – you would give up power and be subjected to my whims.”

You took a deep breath and nodded.

“You give up power, but not safety – that’s important for you to remember. You always have your safe word or tap me three times if you can’t speak, I’ll always stop immediately. Forced can also be a specific part of roleplay scenarios. We can discuss it more, but I think you ought to experience it. Do you think we’ve built enough trust for us to begin?”

“Oh, now?”

“Yes, now, or we could talk more before we begin, we could talk and do nothing more tonight, or you could leave now and go think before your next appointment.”

You bit your lip, but only out of concentration for deciding, not out of nerves.

“What do you want?” he asked patiently.

“I want to begin the physical experience.”

“That kind of specificity will be rewarded, Rio.”

You grinned.

“You didn’t mark this very high on your profile, but I think you’re going to find out you have quite the praise kink.”

You half-gasped and half-giggled, surprised that he would say something so bold and yet also not.

“Strong independent woman like you? High achiever, determined. You’re not vain, and you don’t chase it, but you like recognition outside the bedroom, right?”

“Well, yes.”

“You’ll love it here, too, doll.”

You pressed your thighs closer together. A slow undercurrent of desire had been present since the night began, but as things began to transition, your core was beginning to thrum with anticipation.

“Bucky?”

“Yes?”

“Before we get started, I – well – just – thank you for not asking me why I decided to come here.”

“You didn’t ask me why I chose this profession. It might be oversimplification to say we’re both here because we want to be, but that’s the bottom line, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Know there will never be an ounce of judgment here – not for your desires, your kinks, your fears, your motivations. Don’t worry about doing anything wrong in there – we’ll be learning what your body wants together. You need to stop, we stop. You need to pause, we pause. You want to go slow or try something again or from a different angle, you tell me. Deal?”

“Deal.” God, he made you feel like the world was at your feet even though you were surrendering to him.

He stood up and pulled you with him. “One more thing.”

“Hmm?”

“In there, you call me ‘sir,’” he said. He brought your hand up and placed a whisper of a kiss on the inside of your wrist.

Everything in you melted instantly and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

“You got that?”

“Yes, sir.”

He smirked.

You knew he was going to ruin you.

You knew this, you knew you were ready and eager, and yet you also could tell nothing in your life had quite set you up for what you were about to experience if he had you pliant and nearly pleading for him after that mere gentle touch.

“Why don’t you head to the bedroom, I’ll give you a few minutes to get comfortable, and then I’ll come in.”

Two hours later, you were a writhing mess on the mattress, completely naked and splayed out for him while he was still fully clothed. His head was buried between your thighs, your hips firmly in place by his left arm pressing down on your pelvis. The fingers of his other hand were buried in your cunt, stroking the sensitive spot on your inner wall slowly and torturously – because every sensation down there was too much now.

He had traced his fingers over every inch of your limbs, teased your nipples, stroked your neck, ghosted his hands over your hips, teasing until you were pleading for him to touch your pussy.

He had told you once he started, he wouldn’t stop.

You knew he wasn’t lying, but you had never known an experience like this.

He had edged and denied your first orgasm until you were desperate and crying. The ultimate bliss had been blinding. He had praised you, told you your first orgasm with him had been truly beautiful, and your back had actually arched at his words, an inner keening. He’d been right about that kink.

And then he’d been nothing but relentless, bringing you to the edge and back again, then hurtling you over numerous times, with only brief moments of reprieve before torturing you with his lips, teeth, and tongue, with his hands, and with his words. Filthy promises of things he would do, dangled your fantasies in front of you, teased out admissions from you of even darker desires he as he presented new options you’d never considered, all the while pushing you into orgasm after orgasm. You keened and cried.

It was too much, and you told him so.

He disagreed, coaxing that you could give him another, and another.

“Sir,” you sobbed, “sir, stop, I can’t.”

Now the crying was continuous, and those were the only four words you seemed to be able to utter. When it devolved to only hitched breaths and sirs, Bucky slowed and stopped.

“Do you remember your safe word?” he asked.

“Yes,” you rasped.

“And?”

“I didn’t say it.”

He chuckled. “Just checking, Rio.”

“I know it’s Brazil! Break over, keep going.”

“It’s the endorphins – even though the overstimulation is there and it’s uncomfortable, the high with the endorphin release through the pain is its own trip, isn’t it?”

“Yes, yes, now keep your word and don’t stop until I’m utterly broken,” you whined, wiggling your hips as much as you could manage.

His low laugh made you shiver. “You’re going to be one of my favorites, I can tell.”

And then he pressed firmly on that spot inside of you and sucked hard on your clit in one sudden moment and ripped another orgasm and scream from you as you twisted one hand in the sheets and tugged his hair with the other, not ready to stop yet. He was as addictive as he was relentless, and you were not going to leave an ounce of this unexplored, and this was only the beginning.

READ THE SEQUEL: FEEL

End Notes: I feel like I knew some of the basics when it comes to BDSM and some of my fics have had BDSM elements, but I did a fair amount of research because I didn't want to do any disservice to the what a healthy relationship exploring BDSM might look like. This is one take. I found some very helpful insight at theduchy.com (specifically their BDSM Experience and Curiosity Checklist) and an article Bustle published by two sex educators that took a very straight-forward approach in discussing some of the basics. I'd go so far as to say there things that I learned or had reaffirmed or got better language/theory about by studying about BDSM that I think should just be base safe sexual practices (around consent, boundaries, exploration, trusting your partner, etc).

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

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[themorningsunshine]

Be My Muse

Pairing - Aritst!Bucky Barnes x Reader (Childhood best friends to lovers)

Summary - Muse - A person or spirit that gives an artist the desire to create things

Bucky has been in love with you for years, but just can't get himself to say it. So, instead, he decides to show you.

Warnings - None, just fluffy fluff 

Word Count - 2.4k 

a/n - This is for @buckybarnesevents ‘s Connect 4: June-iverse event. Card Number - C4037 for the prompt C1 - Aritst. Thank you to the lovely @bluehourbucky​ for motivating me to actually finish writing this. 

"Come on, Buck. Just tell me."

You watched as the man you called your best friend shook his head, once again refusing to let out anything about his upcoming art exhibition.

"Oh, come on. Don't be this way." You didn't want to pressurize him, but he was acting weird about this exhibition for the past 2 months.

Every single time when he had an art exhibition coming up, he would ramble about it for weeks to you and you loved it. The way he was excited about what he had made and also the way his nervous ticks showed up always a week before the actual event, you loved every bit of it.  But this time, he hadn't spoken a word remotely related to it.

To top it all off, he had said that this was the most important exhibition of his life.

You were bound to be scared.

"Okay, what about this, you give me a hint, about anything, it doesn't even have to be the centerpiece, literally anything, and I will stop bugging you." You were practically begging now.

"Come on, doll. You are going to come to the main event. You can look at it then." He said putting your cup of coffee in front of you, is pretty much one of the only ways to distract your mind.

"See it then? With everybody else? Is that what I am to you, now, Buck? Just a person in the audience? I knew this day would come." You picked up your cup and with a dramatic turn walked out of the room.

Had you stood there for a moment longer, you would have seen the way Bucky scratched his thumb and bit his lips, two of his most prominent nervous ticks.

Only if he could tell you that you weren't just a person in the crowd. No, you were much more than that. You were everything .

He just had to wait.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

The day of the exhibition came sooner than he would have liked, but to you, it couldn't have been further away.

Bucky had been a little distant with you for the past week and you hated it. You hated it more than anything else in the world.

Usually, he would take you with him to carry out the errands related to the exhibition, 'cause he always got super nervous and you would be there to ground him. Like anchoring him back to the shore.

But this time, you had absolutely no idea what even was the theme of this exhibition. Every single time you offered to go with him for anything, he would always make excuses, and you were confident that they were lies 'cause when did Bucky start to go grocery shopping in the middle of the week?

In the almost 2 decades you had known him, ever since you were a kid, he had never hidden something this important from you.

To say that you were scared would be an understatement.

When you finally entered the exhibition, you were proud to see how many people had shown up. You had always known that Bucky would do exceptionally well as an artist and you had taken every chance you got to tell him exactly that.

As you were about to turn the corner and look at the first painting, you almost collided with a wall of muscle.

You looked up only to be met by the gaze of one of your closest friends.

"Steve, hey!!"

You saw as Steve tried extremely hard to hide the huge grin that threatened to spread across his face and you could swear you saw happy tears brimming in the corner of his eyes.

You squinted as you took a step to the side to let a man walk in, realizing you were blocking the way.

"Y/n, you need to come with me."

"Not now, Steve. It's Bucky's exhibition. I need to stay here."

"He has asked you to come with me."

You narrowed your eyes as you asked, "Are you sure?"

Steve nodded as he took your hand to try and take you away from the paintings.

Dread filled your chest. Did Bucky really not want you in here so much?

You follow Steve as he leads you toward an isolated door of the arena.

You turn to look at him and he signals you to get inside.

"Okay, if you are kidnapping me, I might as well let you know that no one is going to pay a single penny as ransom to you." You joke. You have been friends with Steve almost for as long as you have been with Bucky and you trusted them with everything.

Steve chuckles before replying, "Just go in, y/n."

You open the door and take a step in, only to realize that it's pitch dark. Before you can turn back to look at Steve, the door closes behind you.

You take a deep breath and call out, "Bucky? I swear to god if it's one of your stupid pranks, I'll kill you."

Suddenly, a small light gets switched on beside you and you turn to realize that it beautifully illuminates a painting.

You take a step forward towards it, only to realize that it is a sketch of an eye and it's beautiful .

You can see the way it shines with a glint even though it's just a sketch and you bring your hand forward to run it across it.

It is then that you notice the little note sitting at the bottom right corner of the sketch.

All the city lights combined couldn't shine brighter than your eyes.

Your lips turned upwards into a smile as you read the words. Even though you had absolutely no idea what was happening, it was a huge comfort to know that it was all Bucky's doing. You could recognize that handwriting anywhere.

You looked around hoping to figure out at least something, but all that the little illumination below the sketch showed you was that it was more probable than not a huge hall.

Not even a moment later, another small light was switched on just beside the first one.

It was a painting this time. A very old painting.

It was a small girl sitting on a swing hanging from the tree. A blissful smile on her face, carefree and oblivious to the troubles of the world.

When you noticed the bracelet that she was wearing, you took a step forward, squinting to focus on the painting.

It was you.

And then the memory of that day placed itself at the forefront of your brain.

"Come on, Buck." The little 11-year-old girl called out to the brown-haired boy.

He just shakes his head and refuses to move away from under the tree he is sitting, a sketchbook in hand.

"Why do you even like painting so much?" She had asked, crossing her arms across her chest, puffing in annoyance at his lack of response before walking away towards the swing herself.

A smile finds its way to your lips at the memory. It was about a couple of years after the both of you had met, and yet, it was as clear as day in your mind. Even after all the memories you and Bucky created together over the years, small - innocent ones like these from all those years ago never left your heart.

You look at it intensely for a long time. A couple of tears brimming at the corner of your eyes.

It's been so long. You couldn't help but think. The both of you had grown up but never grew apart. There was always a connection, an instant pull that always brought the both of you back to each other, almost like how no matter how far any of you went, you never forgot your way back home.

After some time, you finally noticed the little note written in the bottom left corner of the painting, just like in the first one. But this one was different. This sentence was the one that would change your whole life for you. In the best way possible. It read :

The day that 12-year-old fell in love, without even knowing what love meant. All he knew was that he was going to love that girl with everything he had, till his last days and beyond.

Your breath hitched in your throat. He loved you.

Bucky Barnes was in love with you.

That's when it hit you.

Everything you have ever wanted. The only thing your heart has ever yearned for, was right in front of you all along.

The love that you had read about in books, the kind of love that swallowed you whole until there was no part left untouched, the love that you have looked for your entire life, has been right there. Right beside you. In the form of the oceanic blue eyes that had enamored you for the last 20 years.

You were in love with your best friend.

The realization doesn't hit you like a truck, or leave you gasping in surprise, it brings with it a sense of peace, a sense of everything falling into place.

You look around frantically searching for the man that you had loved all along without ever knowing it.

You loved him when he fought those bullies to protect Steve and got hurt in the process.

You had loved him when he had brought you cookies when you had gotten sick during Christmas, not being able to move.

You had loved him when you had supported him in his decision to do what his heart desired, in his journey of becoming an artist.

You had loved him when the both of you had said your goodbyes while leaving for college in distant cities when the tears had fallen from your eyes and on the ground and he had comforted you that your friendship won't fall apart.

You had loved him in the nights that were spent staring at the stars together, in the afternoons that had been spent watching movies, curled up beside each other, just the two of you.

You had loved him then, and you love him now and you were pretty sure you were going to love him till the world was nothing but dust.

A light suddenly gets switched on just beside the old painting, and this time too, it's you.

Painted years after the last one, it's you staring at the night sky, a soft, content look on your face.

This time, your eyes frantically search for the note, and sure enough, it's right there, at the bottom.

'Cause, darling without you,

All the shine of a thousand spotlights

All the stars we steal from the night sky

Will never be enough

Never be enough

You can now feel tears rolling down your cheeks, as your lips turn into the widest grin possible.

You turn around and as you do so, all the lights in the room begin to turn on, each revealing a painting of you. Taken in the simplest moments.

There is one with you in the kitchen, covered in flour, a pout evident on your face as you had tried to bake a cake for the first time.

There was one where you were sitting at the beach, staring into the ocean.

The one that you liked the most was the one in which you were sleeping contently, a blanket loosely draped over you, that you could swear hadn't been there before.

Before you can look at the rest of them, a voice comes from the corner of the hall and you turn just in time to look at Bucky Barnes himself.

Your smile grew wider if it was even possible and you almost ran off to embrace him when he started speaking.

"One day, you asked me why I drew. Why I felt the need to express whatever it was I felt through a canvas. I didn't tell you, then, but now I want to, doll.

It's you. It's always been you. You have been my muse, my pillar of support, my motivation to get up every morning, my need to paint because there was no other way I could express to the girl I was in love with that she was all I ever dreamt about. That she was everything I could ever want.

I love you, doll. I love you with everything I am and everything I'll ever be. There are a hundred ways this could fall apart, and trust me, I have thought about each one of them more than I should have. But if there is one chance that this could work, that I could be yours, not just in movie nights or weekly trips to the grocery market, but in every way possible, I want to take that chance. In slow mornings and in intimate nights, in tough days and in the celebratory evenings, I want you, I need you to be a part of all of them, doll because life just doesn't feel like life without you."

As if your feet had gained a mind of their own you ran towards him, circling your arms around his neck and pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss was gentle, soft, full of need and unspoken feelings, of time lost, it was everything .

He pulled you impossibly closer to him, not wanting to ever let go.

Finally, when the both of you pulled away, still staying close with the widest possible grins on your faces, you whispered, "I love you too, Buck. So damn much." You say it so slowly, it feels like a dream to him.

You would one day shout out to the world how much you loved him, but for now, it was going to be your little moment. When the city of Brooklyn went about its day just like it did every day, two people who were irresistibly, irrevocably in love with each other stood there, holding each other, in the gentlest of embraces, embers of their love while keeping them warm, strong enough to burn the whole world down.

You stay there for what feels like forever before Bucky whispers. "Doll, be my muse?"

You look up at him, drowning in his oceanic blue eyes, only to reach home, before you whisper, "Forever."  

[onceuponastory]

heartbeats - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: Like most people in the hospital she works in, Y/N is head over heels in love with the gorgeous paramedic Bucky Barnes. Yet she has come to the conclusion that their small chats they have whenever he drops off a patient is the closest thing they have to a relationship. That is, however, until an accident on a night out brings them closer together. Pairing: Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Doctor!Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, needles, pain meds/drugs, injuries (nothing too graphic) and bruising. As always, if I miss any triggers please let me know! Notes: This is my first entry for the @buckybarnesevents Alternate June-iverse Challenge! One of my squares was Nurse, so here we are! Obligatory I am not a doctor (clearly), so my medical knowledge may not be the most accurate. Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own. 

“Hey. What have we got?” Y/N asks, waiting to greet the incoming ambulance.

“You know, I’d say I admire your tenacity to provide the best care to patients as soon as they arrive… but I know the real reason you got down here so quickly.” Her coworker smirks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m here to help treat the patient, which I swore an oath to do.” Y/N lies, ignoring the way her cheeks are heating up with embarrassment.

“Oh suuure, you’re totally here for honest reasons. Definitely not just to see if the hot paramedic is coming. You’re really not subtle, Y/N.”

“Who's to say that’s not why you’re here, too?” Y/N replies. But her coworker is right. Y/N loves her job as a doctor, and getting to help so many people from all different walks of life. Especially after the amount of studying it took to get here. Yet, she’d be lying if she said that seeing the paramedic Bucky Barnes isn’t a big part of her job happiness. Bucky, the aforementioned hot paramedic, is charming, caring and makes everyone in the hospital swoon with just a smile in their direction. If Bucky treated all the people who have heart palpitations and need oxygen when he shows up, he’d be a billionaire. 

As one of the lead emergency doctors in the hospital, Y/N comes into contact with Bucky a lot during her shifts. And each time, his dazzling ocean blue eyes and winning smile send her heart into a flutter and make her legs go weak. Like everyone else in the hospital, Y/N is head over heels in love with the charming paramedic. Every time she sees him, she wants to get over her nerves and finally ask him out, or just to get to know him better. While, of course, secretly hoping that he feels the same way as she does. And yet, she just can't bring herself to tell him the truth. She and Bucky have a great working relationship despite only seeing each other during a patient handover, and despite how much she wants to get closer to him, she also doesn’t want to ruin what they have, and make either of their jobs awkward.

And besides, he has the pick of almost everyone in this entire hospital, so he definitely wouldn’t go for her.

But then, the sound of sirens cuts through the air, interrupting Y/N’s thoughts. It’s time to go to work, and not think about her incredibly attractive coworker. Yet, when the ambulance door opens, a familiar face steps out.

“Afternoon ladies.” Bucky grins. Y/N swears he even throws a wink in there. Immediately, her heart starts beating even faster. Sometimes, Y/N wonders if Bucky does actually know the effect he has on people, how he makes them all swoon and go weak with just a smile. If he does know, Y/N thinks he relishes in it.

“Hey. What have we got?”

“This is Mike. He’s a 23-year-old male who had a fall at work, and is now complaining of pain in his left side.” As Bucky explains the man’s condition, Y/N’s mind goes back to her feelings for him. She’d love to tell him the truth about how she feels more than anything, but the only time they see each other is when they’re with a patient, which doesn’t exactly lend itself to a lot of conversations, let alone heart to heart talks about your feelings. And her time spent with Bucky is always quick before he has to go be a hero again. She can’t just dump all her feelings for him when he’s about to leave. “Can I leave him in your very capable hands, Y/N?” Bucky asks, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Of course.” As Bucky departs, Y/N watches him go, registering a strange twinge in her heart. One she normally feels whenever Bucky is around. God, this man is definitely going to break her heart one day.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A few weeks later,

“Y/N, are you sure you’re okay? Your ankle looks really bad.”

“I’m fine.” Y/N lies. “I’m a doctor, remember?” A doctor with a very twisted ankle that hurts to even move. Groaning, Y/N leans back, trying to avoid hurting herself even more. This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go. It was a celebration of finally finishing four night shifts in a row and having some time off to recharge. But, after one drink too many and a pair of heels that are just too high to walk in comfortably, here she is. Sitting on the side of the road with a throbbing ankle and her pride and happiness shattered.

“Y/N, I really think we should call you an ambulance. You need to be checked out.”

“I’m a doctor, I can do it. I’m okay.” Y/N snaps. Gritting her teeth, she tries to push herself up, but cannot get to her feet without yelling out in pain.

“Absolutely not. You need to go to the hospital, and none of us are sober enough to drive you.” One of her friends replies, taking out her phone and calling for help, ignoring Y/N’s complaints. As she sits back down, trying to manoeuvre her ankle into a more comfortable position, Y/N knows her friends are right. She needs help, which she isn’t able to provide for herself. Maybe for once, after all her time spent taking care of others… it’s her turn to be taken care of. Soon enough, albeit longer than Y/N likes, an ambulance pulls up.

“Thank god.” She murmurs. However, when the paramedic steps out, illuminated by the streetlight, Y/N immediately regrets her words. “Oh, fuck.”

Bucky Barnes is standing right in front of her.

“Hey everyone, where’s the- Y/N?!” he gasps. She can’t fully explain the emotion on his face as he looks at her. In fact, it looks like a mix of emotions: surprise, concern and pity all rolled into one. Heat rises through Y/N’s body, settling on her cheeks. Bucky is the last person she wants to see her like this, sitting in the middle of the street on a Saturday night, in pain and crying, no doubt with her makeup smeared everywhere. At that moment, all she wants is for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. Bucky kneels beside her, his face mere inches from her. “Not going to lie, you’re not who I expected to see tonight. But it’s a welcome surprise.” He smiles, and Y/N registers a familiar fluttering sensation in her stomach. “So, how are you feeling? Your friend said you broke your ankle, but what’s your personal diagnosis, doc?” He chuckles, and Y/N’s blush deepens. Bucky’s never called her doc before… and she’s just realised that she loves it.

“I think it’s just a sprain. Nothing worth worrying about.” Bucky chuckles, shaking his head.

“Well, you say that… but I still wanna check you over in the ambulance.” Y/N suppresses a groan. Of course he does. God, why does he have to be so thorough?! Why can’t, just this once, he- “Besides, if I missed something, I’d never forgive myself, especially if something terrible happened to you.” He admits, his words suddenly leaving her speechless and her heart racing. “Can’t have the best doctor in the area out of action, now can we?”

“Okay, now I know you’re just saying that to make me feel better.” 

“Nope. It’s true.” Bucky shrugs, and Y/N gasps.

“I-I-thank you.” She stammers out a reply, still in shock. She’s not used to this, to seeing Bucky outside of her job, and especially not as a patient. Or to be complimented so much by him. And what a way to start. But at least she’s finally going to know what being cared for by Bucky Barnes feels like.

“Can you walk?” Bucky asks, gently helping her up. When she yelps in pain after putting pressure on her injured foot, Bucky whispers: “It’s alright. Just lean on me, okay? Your carriage awaits.” He chuckles. Despite how weird this situation is, it feels nice to be so close to Bucky, and to be cracking jokes with him like they’re actually friends, and not just coworkers. Y/N just wishes it could be like this all the time. Aside from the twisted ankle, of course. 

Slowly, Bucky leads her inside the ambulance, and onto the bed inside. Y/N watches him as he grabs all the equipment he needs. Her brain feels like it’s going a million miles a minute as Bucky’s words replay in her mind. “I’d never forgive myself.” Does he care about her? Is there a chance he feels the same way about her? 

But then, her mind brings her crashing back down to reality. Of course he cares about her. It’s his fucking job. And right now, she’s just like any other patient. One that’s hopelessly in love with her paramedic and wants him to feel even a smidge of the love she feels for him. Although maybe, just this once, she can pretend that it’s just for her. Slowly, Y/N’s eyes wander lower. God, how does his ass look so good in that uniform?

“I bet this is a unique experience for you, huh? Being the one getting diagnosed?” Bucky laughs, turning back to her. “Especially by me.” Y/N nods, hoping and praying to whatever higher power there is that Bucky didn’t catch her staring, and especially not at his ass. “I just need to check your vitals.” Bucky explains, holding up a stethoscope. Y/N gulps. Bucky’s going to be closer to her than he ever has before, and there’s nothing she can do about it. Gently, Bucky lifts up her shirt, pressing the stethoscope to her skin. Despite the sensation of the cool metal against her skin, Y/N has never felt so warm in all her life.

“Your heart rate seems to be elevated.” He muses. “Take a deep breath for me.” As she does, Bucky tuts. “Your breathing is a little shallow, and you seem stressed. Although, I guess that’s normal after something like this.” Oh, if only he knew the true reason. As Bucky checks her blood pressure, his face is mere millimetres from hers. So close Y/N can see the grey hairs within his beard, feel his breath against her skin and even smell its minty freshness. And it’s sending her heart into a spiral. If only she could actually work up the guts to tell him the truth about how she feels. “So, do you mind me asking what happened?” Bucky asks as he checks her ankle, gently pressing against the tender skin. Each time he touches it, it sends shockwaves throughout her entire body.

“Well, let’s just say alcohol and high heels really aren’t the best combination. God, I knew it was a bad idea to wear those shoes. Especially when I’m so clumsy.”

“It’s alright. You’re not the first patient I’ve seen who needs a bit more practice with heels, and you definitely won’t be the last.” He reassures her, his words making her smile. A genuine smile, her first since she hurt her ankle. “If I’m hurting you, just say okay?” Actually, it doesn’t hurt. Or at least, not as much as she expected it to. Of course, part of it could be down to the shock, but she knows a larger part of it is because of how much care and tenderness Bucky is treating her with. She looks up, catching his eyes. Would telling him the truth be so bad after all? “I think you’re right. It’s starting to bruise, and it looks like a sprain. But I still want to take you to hospital to get you checked out and get an X-Ray, just in case.” 

“Let me guess, the one I work in? God, my coworkers will never let me live it down.” Y/N groans as Bucky injects her with some pain meds.

“If anyone gives you trouble, just tell me, alright? I’ve got your back.” He winks, and Y/N’s stomach flutters again.

“My hero.” she giggles, and Bucky even bows for her. But Bucky is a hero, one who saves people day in and day out. Hopefully, he knows just how loved and appreciated he is. Of course, as a doctor, Y/N knows people would say the same about her too. Yet, she knows she doesn’t hold a candle to just how kind and caring Bucky is.

Throughout the ride to the hospital, Y/N begins to get sleepier as the meds begin to work. “Thanks Bucky. You know, I should get you a drink after this.” She mumbles, not expecting him to hear her. But when Bucky laughs and says, 

“Okay, sure. I’d love that.” her blood chills. When she said before that she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole when Bucky first saw her in pain, she was wrong. This is when she wants the ground to swallow her whole. After that, she sits in silence for the rest of the ride, all the way til Bucky wheels her into the hospital. “Well, this is the end of the line.” He sighs, his tone causing Y/N to raise a brow. Maybe it’s just the drugs talking, but she swears Bucky is sad to see her go. “Now, promise me you’ll take care of yourself, alright? I don’t wanna see you here again anytime soon. At least… not on this side of things. We have to get you back here as soon as possible.”

“Thanks Bucky.” She smiles. “It’s just part of the job, right?” She chuckles. Yet, Bucky shakes his head.

“Not always. Sometimes it’s because you care about the person too.” But before Y/N can say anything, he’s gone, off to save the world again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I still cannot believe you got treated and brought in by the hot paramedic.” Y/N’s coworker gasps as she bandages her foot. “What did he say? What did you say?!”

“Nothing.” Y/N sighs. “I was in shock for most of it. Both literally and figuratively.”

“Well, at least you got to hang out with him outside work… sort of.” And now, she’s off work for a bit until her ankle heals, meaning she won’t see Bucky for a while. Just her fucking luck. But then, a knock sounds at the door, and her supervisor pops his head inside.

“This arrived for you, Y/N.” He says, passing over an envelope. Inside is a get well soon card. She knows who sent it to her before she even opens it.

“To Y/N. My favourite doctor. Or should I say my favourite patient? Don’t tell the others I said that. Honestly, though, I hope your ankle feels better soon. If you are serious about that drink, give me a call. Although maybe don’t bring your heels this time.” Bucky’s number is written underneath. Y/N stares at the letter, still unsure that it’s real. Maybe it’s even a hallucination caused by the meds. But, it’s still there. It’s still real.

And that means Bucky wants to see her. Immediately, her heart pounds, and her stomach flutters all over again.

“Oh, my god.” Her coworker gasps, peering over her shoulder to read the card. “Are you gonna call him?”

“Yeah…” Y/N smiles. “Yeah, I think I will.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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[thornsnvultures]

making time

Bucky Barnes x plus size!fem!Reader

summary: Bucky takes advantage of a slow work day to bend you over your desk.

cw: 1.1k words, 18+, Bucky has a filthy mouth, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, (spoiler: twist ending 👀, dad!bucky)

a/n: written for @buckybarnesevents connect 4 june-iverse. the prompt I used for this one was my #3 "co-workers". I seem to have a problem with not not putting a twist on the prompt lol sorry 😅 moodboard by me, divider by @/saradika

The click of your office door locking behind you sends a thrill down your spine. There's not much time. Minutes is all Bucky has to show you how much he needs you.

It's not often the two of you get time alone. Always busy, always making sure the Boss is happy. Your workload is constantly overflowing. But right now it's just you and him and he's not wasting any time.

You moan Bucky's name into his ear when he lifts you up and knocks the papers on your desk to the floor.

"Hope those weren't important," he says as he trails hot wet kisses down the column of your neck. You know he doesn't give a damn about any papers when he's tugging your shirt up and over your breasts, only lifting his mouth from your supple skin for a moment to remove the offending article.

His hands cover your breasts, cupping and squeezing them through the lace of your bra, the one he knows you wore just for him, just to tease him.

"Fuck, you're so perfect."

Bucky tugs back the lace to swirl his tongue around the your nipple, the bud tightening from the cool air and his hot tongue on your skin.

"Please," you whine as he rocks his bulge against your core. He's got you pinned to your desk under his weight and you can barely move but your hips move in time with his thrusts, desperate for him to fill you. "Bucky, I need you. Hurry," you tug at his hair when he bites at your breast, gasping from the pain and feeling your panties growing stickier with your need at the same time.

"I know, sweetheart. I know," his hands run down your sides giving your tummy a squeeze before tugging the hem of your skirt up your soft thighs until it's bunched up around your waist. He doesn't bother taking your soaked panties off all the way, his movements too hurried to care if they make it to the floor.

You're looking up at him as he stares down at your pussy, creamy and pulsing, waiting for him to spread you open.

"Such a pretty pussy," Bucky slides two thick fingers through your folds, up and down, lightly nudging your clit until you're gasping and twitching. With your legs trapped and pushed up towards your shoulders, Bucky pounds his fingers in deep. The gooey sound of your pussy alone nearly pushes you over, but it's the way Bucky twists his fingers, curling them up against the roof of your cunt that sends you over the edge.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let go for me. Need you dripping so you can take this fat cock."

It takes everything in you not to scream when you release over Bucky's hand. You've surely made a mess of your desk below you, but all you care about is having him inside you.

"Now, Bucky, please," you sob. "I need it."

"Shh, I got it right here for you, baby."

Bucky pops open his pants, releasing his cock from its confines. His pumps the shaft once, twice, a bead of precum pooling at the tip before tapping it on your clit. You jump from the light touch and a moment later Bucky's lining himself up with your quivering hole, pressing the bulbous tip in slowly.

"Fuck, look at you, sucking me in so good. Such a hungry little pussy. You gonna take it all, sweetheart?"

You can't speak, just frantically nodding, mouth open wide as Bucky slides in, inch by inch. By the time he's bottomed out he's leaning over you, pressing your legs deeper into your chest so he can kiss you, his hips grinding into you, making himself at home in your cunt. Because it is his home. He belongs there.

"Fuck me, Bucky. Please," you use what little air you have left in you to beg him to move, clawing at his still clothed shoulders.

He gives you one last kiss on your forehead before absolutely pummeling you with his cock. Harsh slaps filling the room as he slams into you, pushing you up your desk with every thrust.

Bucky holds you down, keeping you still with one hand while the other works your clit until you're at the edge again.

"This creamy little pussy is all mine," he growls. You frantically nod your head as his thumb circles your clit. "Mine to use whenever I want. Yeah?"

"Yes! Yes, all yours," you gasp.

"Then come for me. Come on my cock, baby."

Bucky quickly covers your mouth before you let out the shout you can't hold back any longer and you scream into his palm. You can feel him deep in your guts, pulsing and grinding his own shuddering release deep in your core.

Bucky pants above you, sweat sliding down his temple. You keen as he eases out of you, his seed following not long after in thick globs that trickle out of you and land on your desk. Another thing to clean, but you can't find it in you to care.

Your legs are still spread wider open on your desk, you're too gelatinous to move at the moment. Bucky bites his lip, taking in the sight of you used and sated as he grabs some tissues from a box on your desk and cleans you up. Bucky tosses the soiled tissues and helps you shimmy your skirt back into place before giving your ass a firm tap.

"Better?," Bucky asks as you sit up, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a koala bear.

"Mm-hmm," you sigh into his kiss as he cradles your head in his hands. "Just what I needed."

"I know when my baby's stressed."

You smile at Bucky and lean in for another kiss when someone bangs on your office door.

"Mom! Are you in there? I can't find dad and I want a corndog!"

You collapse against Bucky's chest and groan.

"Next time we're getting a hotel room," you rub your face into Bucky's solid chest.

"Mom!"

"You heard the Boss, you're on corndog duty," Bucky chuckles pointing his thumb towards the door.

"I'm coming!," you shout, rolling your eyes at Bucky before hopping off your desk, your legs still buckling under you.

Bucky follows you out of the room. Your son is gone, likely waiting impatiently for you in the kitchen. Bucky walks behind you, his hands curving around your hips as you go.

"This weekend. We'll send him off to Rebecca's, get a hotel room. No. That bed and breakfast you like with the hot tub," he smirks as he whispers into your ear. "Sound good? A little vacation from all this hard work?"

"Sounds fantastic," you sigh as Bucky presses a kiss to your jaw.

"Good," Bucky gives your ass another playful smack and pushes you towards the kitchen. "Go. I'll clean up your office so you can get some actual work done."

"Thank you, Mr. Barnes. I sense a raise coming your way," you tease and wink at him as you walk down the hall.

[sstan-hoe]

◇ 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 ◇

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — vampire!bucky barnes × human!fem!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — you're his angel and he will love you for eternity, he does everything for you...it's time to return the favour

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — oral (m receiving), throat fucking, Bucky being just hot by making sounds, light praise kink, a bit mean Bucky?

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — reblog, comment/follow | this is my first fic for the June-iverse Event and I'm very excited!!! I really wanted this to be good and hope its not a total flop! I had the words Shop, Angel, Vampire and Rich. I didn't really know what to do with shop so it's just there haha | would have posted earlier but couldn't find the email! stupid spam folder

𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 — Alternate June–iverse | @buckybarnesevents

You twireld around in your white summer dress with a joyful giggle, it was one of your favourites and made you feel light on your feet.

The warm breeze flowed around you making a cosy feeling spread through your body. A few butterflies crossed your path, dancing along the sunbeams that let the world look healthier.

Bucky sat a little further away, watching you closely. Every move you made had his heart beating – if it could.

Once your gaze met Bucky everything went still, he looked powerful sitting in a black garden armchair. It seemed out of place with the setting of nature around it, but it suited your man’s dark demeanour.

Legs spread wide apart, body leaning back into the armchair as he rested his chin between his thumb and pointer finger. His eyes never left your body, you looked care free as if no one could do a thing to you – they couldn’t, Bucky made sure of it. All his mind could think about was what he did to deserve you.

Being alive for five hundred years and he never came across a woman like you, an angel. He loved calling you, his Angel.

You came and pulled him from the darkness, made the life he lived make sense. With you by his side he didn’t mind living forever, he would love you for eternity and that included if you died and he still had to live.

He tries avoiding that scenario and instead gently guides you into the life of being a vampire. It took him a while to adjust to the thought of turning you, becoming a vampire was a big decision to make and he wasn’t sure if you understood that. This was the reason why he wouldn’t turn you until you were at least twenty-five.

Back to the moment, you had broken Bucky from his thoughts as you skipped over to him, “what do you think?” you asked refereeing to the dress you wore.

“Mhm, I quite like it...easy access,” he purred, hands grasping your waist to draw you into his lap. The cool fingertips of his metal hand grazed your soft skin, a light shudder rolling down your spine.

You swatted his hand away which caused him to grip your chin with his flesh hand, “are you denying me what belongs to me?” he cocked his head to the side as if to challenge you.

“This dress is brand new, and I will not have you make it messy,” you scolded him playfully.

“Remind me, Angel, who bought this dress?” Bucky asked innocently, however his blue eyes betrayed him. You knew exactly how much he loved spending his money on you, most of the time without even asking if you wanted something. He just bought it.

Rolling your eyes, you leaned back against his chest with a smile, “oh, well then I guess, I have to buy my dresses myself in the future…,” you knew how much Bucky disliked it if you bought something with your own money.

His eyes darkened, hands moving to your stomach as he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. “Do that and I will have to punish you,” he whispered tickling you.

You squirmed with a squeak, “stop it!” trying to rip yourself from his grip on you. Bucky chuckled and continued tickling your sides, “I don’t think so, my little Angel,” he smirked teasingly. A wholehearted laugh escaped you at the feeling, squirming in his arms again, “Bucky, please,” you breathed out.

Bucky’s heart grew everytime he heard your angelic voice, his angel. Your laugh, your voice, something he would never get tired of hearing. He stopped and went to caress your clothed covered skin.

As you recovered from the torture of your love, Bucky had snaked his right arm under your knees to pick you up. With a surprised sound you were lifted and carried inside the house.

He walked with you into the bedroom, laying you onto the bed. His hands sneaked underneath your dress, but you sat up and stopped his hands. Confusion was written all over Bucky’s features, wondering if he did something wrong however you excited smile told him otherwise.

You slide towards him and his hand, pushing him back a little so you could stand up and guide him to replace you on the bed. Bucky sat down, hand still resting in yours as you got on your knees in front of him.

Oh, now he knew where this was going. His cock strained against his dress pants, you let go of his hand and moved it to stay on his side.

You trailed your fingers up to his belt which you unbuckled easily, fingertips stroking his covered cock. Bucky hissed at feeling, you barley gave him any fraction and he was already this responsive.

“Today, I want to return the favour and devour you,” voice just above a whisper had his member twitching. It should be a crime how sexy you were to him, a hoarse groan leaving his lips, “mhm, what a good Angel I have…then devour me,” a hint of begging danced at the edge of his voice, covered by the command.

Pulling his briefs down his hard cock sprang against Bucky’s abdomen, the few drops of pre-cum staining the blood-red dress shirt.

Your tongue darted out lick the pre-cum from his mushroom formed tip, the brunette drove his flesh hand into your hair trying to suppress the urge to shove his cock down your throat.

A smile spread across your face at his reaction, you let him take over the reign soon but not yet. Licking a long stripe along his length, you could taste the light saltiness which had you thriving.

The hand in your hair didn’t hinder you in teasing Bucky, your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. Gently stroking up and down, a way to feel every popping vein. One thick vein popped out, practically asking you to lick it.

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned as he felt your tongue on the sensitive vein, hand gripping your roots.

You hissed at the sudden tightness in your hair, but damn did it feel good. You didn’t want Bucky to lose his grip on your hair hence why you closed your mouth over his angry tip.

At first, you gave him a few kitten licks before taking him completely down your throat – or trying to take him. His cock wasn’t particularly long but thick, it was difficult fitting all of it inside your mouth. You couldn’t take him any further down, a gagging noise erupting from your throat in protest.

The feeling of his tip hitting your maw had him moaning and his sounds encouraging you to try and take more of him. Never in your life did something turn you on as much as his noises he made while you gave him pleasure.

It was over for Bucky. He took control over you. His hand spreading over your scalp, gently massaging it before yanking your head back and taking you by surprise in the process.

“Enough of that little Angel, it’s time I take control,” the vampires voice was hoarse, you wouldn’t do anything to disobey him. Firstly, he guided his guided you back up to look into your eyes, they were filled with hunger and the need to be controlled.

This was the last soft eyes you received from Bucky before he had your head shoved down on his cock again. All the way down which tears to spring from your eyes, “fuck, show me those pretty tears,” he let his head fall back in pleasure.

He didn’t let you lift your head, instead he let you choke on his cock. A loud gagging sound ringing through the walls as he rolled his hips up.

The vibrations of your cries sending him closer to his high, “choke on my cock, little Angel,” Bucky purred as he kept his cock pressed against your throat. God, he wished he could stay in the warmth of your mouth forever, buried deep inside.

However, he was near his orgasm, he had to make a decision. Gently he thrusts your head up and down his hardened length. “You’re such a beauty when you suck my cock,” he praised you in a soft tone. Soon his pace picked up and drool escaped your mouth as you couldn’t control it anymore.

“God, I’m coming,” Bucky grunted moving his hips to meet his thrusts. You felt his cock twitch against your tongue, his release would drop over the edge every second.

Even though you were his angel, you could be a little devil especially when it came to teasing him. You hollowed your cheeks around him, a deep groan flowing past Bucky’s lips. As the grip on your head tightened you knew how close he was and what would tip him over.

While he desperately fucked your throat you sucked on the mushroom formed head. Bucky came, all over your tongue. Gasping and groaning as he watched you swallow all of him.

You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped you, his sounds just felt different and had you clenching your thighs pathetically.

“Take it, take all of it Angel,” his metal hand came up to rest against your cheek as he slowly lifted your head from his cock. “Swallow,” was all he said, looking deep into your eyes and without hesitation swallowed the slightly salty yet sweet semen of Bucky.

A drop almost falls from the corner of your mouth, but Bucky swiped it away with his thumb. Laying his digit onto your tongue to give you every last piece of him.

After a delightful moan from you had Bucky thriving with pride. “Did such a good job, Angel,” you sat up onto his lap, his cock hardening again, “but I’m not finished with you...still have to make a mess of this dress I bought.”

𝑩𝑶𝒀𝑺 𝑻𝑾𝑶 — @smile1318 @wintasssoldier @xcaptain-winterx @georgiapeach30513 @alina02 @jobean12-blog @broadwaybabe18 @waddlenut @buckymcu12 @witchybabel @daemonslittlebitch

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | I do have a taglist however it has conditions that must be followed — you can follow @sstanhoe-updates for updated without anything

[late-to-the-party-81]

Dark Protector

AN: So I’ve been a bit quiet lately - writer's block got me in a chokehold, just when I’ve signed up to a load of challenges. However, I have managed to get this fic to fit three of them;

Into an Alternate Juni-verse - Square C2 - Bogeyman - @buckybarnesevents

3 words for Caplan - “Help me, please!” - First bolded text. @caplanbuckybarnes

Bucky Barnes Bingo - Square K1 -”That wasn’t nice” - Second bolded text @buckybarnesbingo 

Beta’d by @indyluckycharlie - thank you so much!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and moodboard by me.

Masterlist | Juni-verse Masterlist | BBB 2023 Masterlist

Summary: He’s always been there when you needed him the most; your Dark Protector. Anyone else would be afraid of him, but not you. You’re in love with the monster under the bed.

Relationship: Bogeyman Bucky Barnes x Reader

WC: 6.2k

CW: Minor descriptions of physical assault of a minor, attempted sexual assault of a minor, forced to watch pornography, mild horror elements, death of a minor OC, alcohol consumption, attempted sexual assault of an adult, smut (unprotected PinV, slight use of tentacles, mild bondage) angst, soft!dark! (ish) Bucky.

You don’t remember how old you were when you first realised he existed. If you could even call him a ‘he’. Did the monsters under the bed have gender?

Your friends in elementary school were all scared of the ones in their rooms, but not you, and you didn’t know why. 

You weren’t scared of the dark. 

You weren’t scared of the creaks and groans of your home. 

You weren’t scared of the gentle, but nameless, sound that emanated from under your bed.

Maybe it’s because you had something else to be scared of. Something tangible and real that didn’t just exist in the night, but existed in the day as well; your mom’s boyfriend.

Your dad left when you were very small and you didn’t have many memories of him; only the odd flash of a shadowy figure or a sound or a smell. You’d seen a few photographs, ones that your grandma had kept, knowing that one day you would be curious, but otherwise, the man was an enigma that your mother refused to talk about.

When you were eight she got a boyfriend - Darryl. He was tall, and lanky, with wonky teeth, greasy hair and a smoking habit. Even at that tender age you had no idea what your mom saw in him. He worked in construction, when he wasn’t being thrown off a job for being too lazy, or late, or just downright offensive to the other workers.

He got angry. 

A lot. 

He’d shout at your mom and slam doors, and if he saw you he’d try to kick you. If you accidentally disturbed him, which could be achieved just by breathing some days, he’d give you a smack around the head and scream at you until you were cowering in the corner. 

Then the jobs started to dry up, so Darryl started to drink. And drink. You tried to  find any excuse you could to be absent, doing your homework in the park on fine days and in the local library when it wasn’t, and if you had to be home, you’d tiptoe around in the hope he wouldn’t notice you.

Then, when  you turned 11, it all, somehow, got worse. Darryl was starting to look at you. He’d leer and make comments that you didn’t fully understand, but knew weren’t right. He’d be nice to you, something that was totally abnormal, and it put you on edge. He’d slur and give you compliments, but only about the way you looked. Whenever you tried to talk to your mom about it, she’d duck her head, look embarrassed and try to convince you he was just being a good step-dad. You didn’t believe her.

You didn’t know who to talk to, so you talked to the monster under your bed. For some reason you decided he was called Bucky. It came to you in a flash of inspiration, seemingly from nowhere, but you knew from a change in the hisses and rumbles from beneath you that he approved.

Bucky was a good listener - you didn’t know if this was a trait common to all bogeymen or whether you happened to just get a good one, but you poured out your worries and fears, always feeling lighter by the time you fell asleep. 

But for all that you felt lighter in the dark, that all went away in the light of day. Your mom got a new job, one that had her out of the house most evenings a week. Which meant it was just you and Darryl at home. Alone. It wasn’t long until it all came to a head.

You were channel surfing when he came and sat down next to you. His skinny thigh was pressed up against your own, too close, and you repressed a shudder. The smell of stale tobacco and cheap beer assaulted your nostrils, making you want to gag. His arm was slung over the back of the couch and although his hand wasn’t touching you, you knew his fingers were too close to your shoulder for your own comfort.

“I’ve got something we can watch together.”

He leered at you and plucked the remote from your fingers and apprehension prickled up your spine. With a few taps of his long, yellow-stained fingers, the channel changed and you couldn’t help but look up when you heard the strange noises - pants and grunts and moans - coming from the screen. 

You gasped in horror. There was a naked man and a naked woman on the screen. He was holding her down and her face was contorted in some expression you didn’t recognise, and he seemed to be hurting her, stabbing into her privates with his thingy.

You shot off the couch, barely hearing Darryl’s dark chuckle as you ran to your room, and threw the door shut. You virtually launched yourself onto your bed, and clutched your stuffed bear, Mr Snoops, to your chest. The images from the screen ran through your head, making bile rise in your throat. Why had Darryl shown you that? You didn’t understand. 

You didn’t know how much time passed while you tried to work things through in your head, but the sun had set outside, and the streetlamps threw shadows across your room.

Suddenly, your door opened, banging off the wall behind it. Darryl stood there, outlined in the light from the living room. He rarely came into your room, knowing that despite his recent change in attention to you, it was still off-limits to him.

“Why’re you hiding in here, girly? I thought you might like the film I showed you.”

You curled up smaller, alarm bells ringing in your brain.

“He was hurting her.”

He chuckled, the sound just as dark and ominous as earlier on.

“Nah, he weren’t. She was liking it. Most girls do.” 

He stepped closer and a waft of fresh whisky swirled around him.

“Bet you would, too. You’re getting real pretty now. Bet you thought I wouldn’t notice, but I did.”

You tried to back up, but the hard wall at your back stopped you. You didn’t quite know what he was talking about, but you knew enough to be scared. You were aware of an ominous rumble and hissing coming from under your bed, and a flicker of a dark, tentacle-like shapes in the corner of your vision.

A jingling noise brought your attention back to Darryl. He’d undone his belt and was working on his pants fly. There was a strange bulge in the fabric and you screwed your eyes shut.

“So you just lie back, and let me do this and it can be our secret, eh, girly? Might not be too nice this time, that’s the way of things, but I promise you’ll come to love it, just like that broad in the movie.”

You didn’t want him to stab you with his ‘thingy’. You didn’t care what he said - it looked painful, and your privates were your privates. The sounds from Bucky got louder and louder to your ears, despite the fact that Darryl seemed oblivious to them. It was as though your dearest monster was waiting for something.

When you felt your flimsy mattress dip under Darryl’s weight you let out a whispered plea into the darkness.

“Help me, please!”

The smells of tobacco and alcohol were hot on your face, and you felt tears start to roll down your cheeks, when in an instant it was all whisked away. 

Then, Darryl screamed and your eyes shot open. His weedy form was hanging in the air, dark tentacles of shadow surrounding him, wrapping up and down each limb. He was struggling, but the shadowy limbs seemed to be tightening and drawing him downwards and back towards your bed, heedless of the garbled sounds of distress coming from him.

You squeezed your eyes shut again, holding Mr Snoops so tight you thought his head might pop off, and tried to put the sounds of breaking bones out of your mind. Your bed started to shake, the shrieks loud in your ears and then there was silence. 

Well, almost. 

There was a new sound coming from beneath you, a satisfied purring noise, almost like that of your best friend Maisie’s cat. 

Opening one eye, you surveyed your room. Light still spilt in from both the hallway and the streetlights outside, and they showed that your room was empty. 

No Darryl.

Carefully you got up, and padding to your door, you peeked around the frame. You couldn’t see him or hear him. Feeling a bit braver you scurried across to the living room. The only evidence of your mom’s boyfriend was the empty beer bottles and cigarette butts in the ashtray.

You returned to your room, and settled gingerly on your bed, before leaning down and looking under it. Darkness and shadows looked back, but you felt a wave of smugness emanating from the depths.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

You went to sleep, once again, with lightness in your heart.

The next few days you had to comfort your mom as she ranted and raved about Darryl abandoning the pair of you, pretending to be sad, but smiling inside. Bucky wasn’t an imaginary friend. He was real, and he had protected you when you’d needed him most.

Life moved on, and your mom got over Darryl’s disappearance. You were glad, because after the initial heartache, she became a much happier person. Yes, her job still sucked, but she didn’t have to support a deadbeat boyfriend on the meagre wages, and she didn’t have to worry about being shouted or screamed at.

No-one else in town missed him either, most shrugging their shoulders and assuming he’d done a midnight flit. You were the only one who knew different.

Your confidence grew. You weren’t scared anymore, because you had Bucky to keep you safe in your home. 

As you reached your mid-teens you realised what it was that you’d been shown on the Tv screen that night, and any residual guilt you’d felt at Darryl’s demise evaporated with the full understanding of his intentions

“Thank you for saving me, Bucky. I’m so glad I have you.”

He hissed in pleasure and his tentacles appeared in the corner of your eye, evaporating quickly when you turned to try and look at him.

“I wish I could see you though.”

The hisses changed to rumbles, as though he was placating you, before bursting into his purring sound and soothing you to sleep.

Despite Bucky’s lack of normal ‘language’ you’d learnt to understand him. When you bought your first boyfriend home, a jock named Jack, and went to your room for a make-out session, you could almost feel the waves of disapproval coming from Bucky. He obviously wasn’t happy. When you opened your eyes a crack, part way through having Jack’s tongue down your throat, you saw the shadows shifting. In a panic about what might happen, you called your ‘date’ to an abrupt end, much to Jack’s annoyance, citing an upset stomach.

He broke up with you two days later, telling his buddies that you were ‘a frigid bitch’. Three weeks after that a girl in your class was found bloodied, bruised and assaulted at the far end of town. The police questioned her in the hospital but she feigned ignorance about what had happened to her, but the school grapevine had it that she’d last been seen on a date with Jack. You told Bucky about it, and the rumbles that emanated from him seemed to say “I told you he was no good.”

Your thoughts about Bucky’s intentions to protect you from harm were further clarified with your next boyfriend, Clint. He was a sweet, accident-prone young man, whose jokes often fell flat, but he was earnest in his adoration of you. It was with some trepidation that you invited him to your room, but although you heard a sad hiss from Bucky when you and Clint started to kiss, there were no ominous smoky tentacles in your peripheral vision and no angry grumbles. Still, you decided not to go ‘all the way’ at your house.

Eighteen came, and with it a new chapter of your life - college. You’d scored a combination of grants and scholarships to enable you to study English Literature. A big step forward, for sure, but also a big change. You told Bucky all about it. He was uncharacteristically silent about it all, as if contemplating what it would mean. 

It was only as you were unpacking in your small dorm room, laying your favourite blanket over your bed that realisation struck. 

Bucky was at home, under your childhood bed. 

The thought made you freeze where you were, a feeling of grief and loneliness filling your chest as you considered going through this period of your life without your closest confidant. 

However, Bucky surprised you again. As you settled into bed that night, your eyes drifting shut after an exhausting day, you heard it. A rumbling purr. Your eyes shot open, and there, in the edge of your vision were those familiar flickers and a smile of joy appeared on your face. 

“How did you get here, Bucky? Did you sneak in with my belongings? Or can you just pop up under any bed you choose?”

He didn’t respond with words – not that you expected any – but he did let out a sound akin to a chuckle, making you giggle in return. Once again you wished you could see him and make this friendship feel more real, at least to you. You hoped you felt real to him. You voiced your thoughts to him, but once again his response was vague, but with an undercurrent of sadness.

His presence buoyed you, and you threw yourself into college life. You worked hard, and you played… tentatively. Yes, you went to parties, and you went on dates, but your past still reminded you that men were to be distrusted more often than not. You often joked with Bucky that it would be easier if you were attracted to women. He chuckled back.

When you did have dates you always made sure to bring them to your dorm at least once, for what you had termed the ‘Bucky’ test. It was as though your tame bogeyman could intuit the intentions of men. If he hissed and writhed, you knew the guy was no good. If Bucky merely sulked like some kind of ousted puppy then you knew the guy was decent. But for all the decent ones you met, none of them seemed to tick all your boxes. You didn’t worry though - you were young and still had plenty of time to find ‘the one’.

You graduated with honours, causing your mom to shed a tear at your graduation ceremony, and you didn’t even need to discuss with her that you weren’t going to move back home. You’d managed to leave your little Podunk town behind, something she’d never been able to do, and she was happy for you.

When a well known publishing company offered you an internship you grabbed the opportunity with both hands. It was nothing glamorous – mainly taking notes, collecting coffee and getting up close and personal with the copy machine, but it was better than nothing. 

However, one thing you weren’t looking forward to was the commute from your dingy apartment, especially in the winter months. You should have known that Bucky would find a way to reassure you.

It was like a strange prickle down your spine when you first felt it, as though you were being watched. You whipped your head around in all directions, trying to work out where the sensation was coming from, but then you saw him, or rather, as much as you’d ever seen of him. The mix of smoke and shadows, just out of your eye line, made you immediately relax. It was amazing that your protector had found a way to watch over you, even outside of the confines of your bedroom. You weren’t sure how he did it, but you knew it was his presence that kept others away.

You were so used to him by now, used to his friendly noises and movements, that you’d almost forgotten how dangerous he could be to those who threatened you. The memories of what had happened to Darryl had dimmed over the intervening decade, and sometimes you wondered if you’d imagined the whole thing. 

You were out with friends from work for a drink, celebrating your birthday, when it happened. A group of you had set off straight from the office on Friday late afternoon when you all collectively agreed you were done for the day. Semicolons and em dashes could take a hike!

You all congregated at your local watering hole - a bougie little bar close to the office. You’d changed your skirt in the office washroom before heading out, and slicked on a bit more makeup, for that party feel. The atmosphere was buzzing, and after a glass and half of white wine, so were you. You and some of the other girls were dancing next to the old-style jukebox, while the guys perched on the high stools around the table you’d all claimed, sipping on beer bottles and shooting the shit.

“John likes you, you know.”

You whipped you heard around as Katie whisper-shouted in your ear to be heard over the music.

“What?”

“Walker. He likes you. If his obvious staring every time you walked past his desk wasn’t enough of a give away, he told Lemar, who let it slip to Kendra, who told me.”

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks and you turned your head to peek at John from under your lashes. The guy was tall, blonde and confident, one of the senior editors at the company. Lots of the girls fantasised about going home with him, wondering if he was as ‘apple pie’ as he looked, or whether he had some hidden ‘spiciness’. You never thought he’d look at you though. He could have his pick of any person he wanted.

“Me?” Your voice was a squeak and Katie giggled. 

“Yes, you, you silly goose. I don’t know why you find it hard to believe? Have you seen you? You’re so cute and sweet, and that smile of yours, honey.”

You batted at her playfully, feeling embarrassed by her friendly observations.

“Shush, you.”

She laughed, and kept dancing.

Another wine glass appeared, and then a fourth. For some people it would be nothing, but you weren’t used to drinking, and you hadn’t eaten, so by the time that Katie and the others were saying their good-byes, you were very drunk. 

Grabbing your bag and coat, you teetered towards the exit, but despite your concentration, your heel still skidded on something and your foot flew out from under you. However, before you hit the floor, a strong pair of hands grasped onto your upper arms from behind, and you were pulled against a firm chest. 

Dazed, and with slightly unfocused eyes, you looked up over your shoulder into the smiling, sea blue eyes of John Walker.

“Hey, watch your step, sweetheart, you coulda got hurt there.”

You should’ve said something classy and sophisticated, but your alcohol-addled brain didn’t want to cooperate. You blinked owlishly before your lips started working on their own.

“I almost fell. You saved me.”

To his credit, only a small chuckle made its way past his lips.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” 

John linked his arm into yours and led you out of the bar. The cold air hitting your face made you  dizzy and you gripped his arm with your free hand, praying for the world to stop spinning. Before you knew it he was steering you into a cab. When he prompted you, you gave the driver your address and then sank back into the seats, eyes closed. You could feel John’s hand gently holding yours, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles and you tamped down a giggle. You were also trying to ignore the annoying buzzing that you could hear. Or was it a hiss?

When the cab arrived at your apartment block, you threw John a dopey smile as he helped you out.

“Where are your keys, sweetheart? I think you need to go to bed.”

You hiccuped and rifled around in your bag, swaying on your feet as you pulled out the bunch with a shout of triumph. John plucked them from your fingers and opened the door, ushering you through. Kicking off your shoes haphazardly, you made your way to the couch, and flopped down into a lazy slouch.

John chuckled again. Closing your front door, he came and sat next to you. As he took hold of your hand, enclosing it in both of his,  you looked at him through one eye.

“Thank you for getting me home. I think I’m a bit drunk….” WIth your free hand you brought your thumb and forefinger together, leaving a small gap between them, to make your point and you giggled at your own hilarity.

“You’re cute.” He leaned forward, almost covering your body and dropped a kiss to your lips, taking you by surprise.

“Oh! Umm… that was unexpected.”

A strange smile appeared on John’s face.

“I don’t know why, sweet-thing. I know you like me and I like you.”

He kissed you again, but this time with more enthusiasm. Your arms were trapped against your chest between your two bodies, your head was swimming and your blood was pounding in your ears. 

No, that wasn’t right. 

It wasn’t a pounding noise, but more like an angry rumble crossed with hissing.

Hissing.

Bucky.

John! 

John who was kissing you, despite the fact that you were drunk and hadn’t been flirting with him or anything.

You pushed against him with your hands, but it was totally ineffectual, so you tore your mouth away from his.

“John, stop. Please.” 

He cocked his head to the side.

“Hey, don’t be like that. I thought we liked each other, and haven’t I been nice to you this evening?

His hands gripped your upper arms, cruelly, as he ducked back down again, his lips sucking at your neck, his teeth scraping your flesh, and in your ears the hissing grew louder.

“I’ll treat you right, sweetheart.”

You wiggled your body, trying to get free, eyes going wide at the feeling of John’s erection pressing into your stomach through his jeans.

“No. No! I don’t want this. You need to go.”

You managed to turn your head and bit down on the top of his ear, making him shout out and jump back to his feet, clutching his hand up to the side of his head.

“You fucking bitch!”

His face turned red and he took a step back towards you, anger and aggression easy to see in his expression as he loomed over your semi-prone form.. However, as he reached for you again, oily dark tentacles shot out from under your couch, coiling around him and lifting him into the air.

For a few moments you only felt relief, as once again Bucky came to save you when you needed him most, but the relief quickly faded when you remembered what your dearest monster was capable of. 

You tried to stand, but your legs were too wobbly and you sank to the floor instead, some of Bucky’s shadow limbs ghosting over your legs. You tried to grab hold of them, but your fingers went right through.

“Bucky! Stop! Let him go!”

You had to shout to hear yourself over John’s screaming, but loudest of all was Bucky’s growl of disagreement. You had to try again.

“Please! He’s not like Darryl. People will notice if he disappears.”  

You moved onto your hands and knees, crawling closer to where John was dangling and writhing in pain. Bucky’s limbs were more solid-looking here and you reached out tentatively and stroked down one. It rippled, reacting to your touch.

“Please.” This time you whispered your plea, and you touched him again, almost distracted from your goal by the sudden realisation that you were finally getting to touch your constant companion. There was a change to his growl, as if it were coming closer to you. Confused, you looked around and saw more of him sliding out from under the couch until it seemed that he’d completely left his cover. The mass of inky smoke started to coalesce in front of you, and as you watched in awe as it took on a different shape from the one you’d always known, one that appeared to get more and more human shaped by the second. Well, human shaped with some tentacles coming out of it’s back like some kind of Lovecraftian monster.

Bucky’s back was to you. All you could really make out was that he had black hair that brushed his broad shoulders. He walked forward, a little ungainly as though trying to work out how to balance on two legs. John was still struggling up in the air, held tight by the tentacles Bucky held out in front of himself, and was moving backwards as Bucky moved forwards, moving your would-be assailant across the room and away from you.

As if he wasn’t used to having hands - and you supposed he wasn’t - another tentacle shot out of Bucky’s back and wrapped around the handle for your front door. The others shook the almost hysterical man.

“Thhhat wasssssn’t nicccccccce.”

It was strange to hear him speak as you did, although it was clear it was something new for him, given the hissing sounds making up his speech. However, before you could really contemplate it, he was opening your door and hurling John out into the hallway. You tried to push yourself up to see if he was okay, but you were held back  by Bucky’s otherworldly limbs. 

You heard John scramble up and run towards the stairs whimpering and you let out a sigh of relief. You then turned your head and looked up into Bucky's terrifyingly beautiful face with eyes like ice chips and he pulled you closer. You were about to ask him the first of a million questions when he brought up a tentacle to cover your lips.

“Ssssssleep, liiiiittle one. Ssssssleep.”

And you did.

You awoke with a start, sitting up on your bed with your hand over your wildly beating heart. You were still in your going out clothes, but your head was pounding and your memories blurry.  You didn’t recall staggering to your bed, but the clock said that a few hours had passed since you left the bar, and…

The memories hit at once. Whipping your head around you looked across your room to the easy chair, and there he sat.

Bucky.

A human looking Bucky. The tentacles were gone now. He looked almost normal.

For a moment there was silence hanging between you both, and you took him all in. Those bright eyes, ringed with black, like he was trying to camouflage himself, the dark hair flying loose around his shoulders, and his black clothes that made him look like some kind of Special Ops person straight out of your favourite TV show. His expression was unreadable.

“Bucky?” You held out your hand toward him, still not quite believing your eyes.

He moved towards you, as swift and silent as the shadows he normally took the form of.

“Yesssss, liiittle one. I am here.”  The mattress dipped under his weight as he perched next to you. His two, larger hands enclosed the one you’d offered him. “I protect you?”

He tilted his head to the side, as if seeking your approval, and with your free hand you cupped his cheek. Your heart swelled when he pressed his face into your palm.

“Yes, you protected me. Like you always have. Thank you.” 

You leant forward and pressed your forehead against his, smiling to yourself as you heard him begin to purr, that familiar noise that had always made you feel safe.

“How are you here?” Your hand inched up to tangle in his hair, needing to feel more of him, the rough and the smooth. “How are you like this?”

“Becaussse you wissshed it. And I wisssshed it. My liiittle one. Alwaysss my liiittle one.”

And you knew it then, deep within yourself, that everything that had happened in your life from the moment you were first aware of his existence, had been leading you both to this point.

“It’s always been you, hasn’t it? Who I’ve been waiting for?” Both of you shifted slightly, your noses brushing against each other, your breath mingling.

“Been waiting. Human livesss are confusssing.” He moved one of his hands to rest on your waist, drawing your bodies that much closer together.

“Neither of us has to wait any longer. My Bucky. My protector.” You sighed into his mouth as your lips came together for the first time. 

It was soft to start, both of you gauging the other, a small part of you wondering what you were doing and also wondering how old Bucky actually was. Did it matter though? There was something between the two of you, always had been. A meeting of souls.

Desire flared quickly, and you surprised yourself by taking the initiative, practically crawling across the last remaining space between you to straddle his lap. You had his hair in both fists now, kissing him like you needed him to breathe, grinding down on his lap as the heat in your core threatened to overwhelm you.

Bucky moaned into your mouth, nipping at your lips, and then tangling his tongue with yours. His hands were everywhere, sliding up your top, up your skirt, caressing your face. That’s when you realised. It wasn’t just his hands - those were on your face. You were being touched everywhere else by his tentacles, the parts of him with which you were most familiar.

You looked down to find he was now naked, his human skin pale and juxtaposed to the darkness of his other limbs that were sprouting from his back and surrounding you. You reached down and pulled your top off over your head and you felt Bucky’s entire body rumble from the growl he let out. A thrill ran through you at the vocal sign of his need. Although you hadn’t been able to get a proper look at him, blocked by your own body, you could feel his human arousal pressing into your core through your panties.

“Help me get naked, Bucky. I don’t want anything between us.” 

His response was to kiss you passionately again and you were heedless of the ruination of your clothes as he ripped them from you. Your hands roamed his upper body, and while part of you wanted to take you time, and learn everything about him, your desperation was winning. You just needed him. Now! 

When his tentacles brushed across your breasts, you tore your lips from his to throw your head back in ecstasy. His human hands held onto the swell of your ass, helping you grind down on his length, covering him in your arousal. This time when you peeked down you could see the tip of his cock poking out from between the folds of your pussy and you couldn’t wait any longer.

“Now, Bucky. Please. I need you. I need you to fuck me!”

“Yessss!”

He grinned at you, almost playful, almost innocent, but then he was tipping you onto your back and caging you to the mattress with his body, tentacles arcing out of him and cutting most of the light. His eyes narrowed, predatorily, before two of his limbs gently snaked down to clasp your wrists, drawing your arms above your head. You didn’t resist - you wanted it, wanted him to claim you, finally.

His hands and tentacles moved your legs up, bending them at the knees so you were open and bared before him. You could see his cock, heavy and thick between his legs, waiting to be engulfed by your warm heat and you shifted your hips in need.

“Please! Don’t make me beg. Please, don’t make me….” Your whispered words were cut off by a scream of pleasure as he thrust into you. He was so big, and you felt so full. It was heaven.

Then, before you could even plead with him further he started to move with long gentle strokes, slowly making way for more and more of him, until his hips were flush with your thighs and your restrained hands were scrabbling at the pillow under your head as you just felt everything.

“My perrrfffect liiiiittle one.”

His cock seemed to be moulded to perfectly fit you, the bulbous head of it rubbing that sweet spot just right. One of his shadowy appendages slipped between you, rubbing across your engorged clit and pleasure jolted through you.

“Oh fuck! I’m gonna cum! Bucky! I’m gonna cum!”

Your eyes rolled back in your head as your body convulsed under his erotic onslaught. Every nerve ending felt over sensitive as Bucky used the  non-human parts of his body to touch you everywhere he could. Tentacles slid through your slick folds either side of his cock as he continued to fuck you, harder and harder. Others stroked your face, your breasts, your legs and you’d never felt so alive. It felt as though you’d barely come down from your high before you felt another approaching.  

Bucky held himself over you, on his arms, his hair falling around his face like a shroud. He continued to kiss and nibble at your mouth and jaw and neck. He seemed almost incapable of human speech now, just letting out pleasured hisses and purrs as he sank over and over into your wet heat. Your walls clutched at him, like they never wanted to let him go.

“Bucky. Gonna cum again. Want you to cum with me. I want to feel you.”

He nodded against your neck, before sucking on the delicate flesh, marking it. He tilted your hips, somehow plunging deeper into your pussy, and continued to caress you everywhere he could. 

You wiggled your hands, desperate now to touch him, and as if he could read your mind, your shadowy bonds receded, allowing your arms to move to his shoulder, your fingers curling so that your nails could dig at his back.

Bucky lifted his head then, his startling blue eyes boring into yours before he smashed his lips against yours one more time, his hips stuttering. You swallowed his screech of ecstasy before responding in kind with your own as you felt him pulse inside you, flooding you with the warmth of his cum. You spasmed around him, the sensation sending you into a state of euphoria, as wave after wave crashed over you.

When you returned to the world, you were laying on your side, your head on Bucky’s chest as he purred and stroked up and down your spine. You lifted your head and smiled at him, heart soaring as he smiled back.

“I still can’t believe this is real. How am I not dreaming?”

“I knew that I would beeee able to beeecome human for you at the riiight tiiime. I wassss told it would happen.”

You cocked your head at him.

“Someone told you it could happen? Who? That means it has happened before?”

He dropped a kiss on your forehead with an enigmatic smile, before looking out of the window. The sun was rising on a new day, and where it was shining in through the crack in your curtains, a shaft of light fell across the bed. Right over Bucky’s leg, which appeared to have partially disappeared.

You furrowed your brow in confusion and slight panic.

“What’s happening? Where is your leg?”

“Don’t worry. I will be back with the ssshhadowsss, liiiittle one.”

You looked on in horror as more and more of him seemed to dissolve as the light spread and increased.

“Bucky!”

No, this couldn’t be happening, he couldn’t be leaving you now!

“Alwaysss in the ssshhadowsss. Alwaysss protecting you.”

Your hands were passing straight through his body, only his head and a few wispy tentacles remained.

“Like your father protectsss your mother. He told meee.”

You froze, unsure what to say. Your father? The shadowy man in the old photos? 

Realisation hit you and your eyes went wide, seeking Bucky’s only to realise they were the last part of him remaining, before they too disappeared.

You sat in stunned silence, naked on your dishevelled bed and tried to make sense of the - not one, but two - life-altering things that had happened. Not only had your non-corporeal companion become flesh and blood, albeit temporarily, he’d also implied that your father was the same type of being.

All you could do was await the coming of the shadows and his return.

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @talia-rumlow @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel

[buckybarnesevents]

Join us for an ALTERNATE JUNE-IVERSE!

This event is entirely about all of the ALTERNATE UNIVERSES you could dream of, and they are all centered around our favourite Murder Muffin!

This Connect 4 event is very similar to a Bingo Event, but instead of 25 squares/fills/prompts, you will receive a card with four squares/fills/prompts. They may be taken and interpreted in any way you wish or feel inspired by!

We start on the sign ups on the 24th of March – this is when you can fill out a sign-up form and we will start to ready your card. Cards will be sent out within 3 days of you signing up, and you may begin posting your fills as soon as you have your card! Be sure to tag us (@buckybarnesevents and use the tag #Connect4AU)!

Below the cut you will find the Rules, FAQs, and Badges that are specific to this event.

But without further ado, we are excited to begin this event, and we are excited to see what you all come up with! 💙

RULES:

Be sure to check out the blanket event rules found HERE.

Due to the nature of all media and works within this event, it is only for those that are 18 and older – upon signing up you acknowledge that you are not a minor.

Any kind of hate (kink bashing/shaming, harassment, toxic behaviour, etc.) will not be tolerated at any point. There will be no warnings given and if proven to have exhibited any disagreeable behaviours, you will be removed from the event.

Tag your works accordingly. We expect explicit works, and that will contain squicks, triggers, etc.  We believe in Kinktomato here. YKINMKATOK (Your Kink Is Not My Kink (And That’s OK) but you are responsible for advising our readers what to expect. 

This event, as always, is open to any and all pairings that involve our favourite murder muffin! If you’re finding that inspiration isn’t coming to you with just Bucky, we will also allow up to two squares per card to feature a different Sebastian Stan persona (Sebastian himself, Steve Kemp, Max Burnett, etc.)

The AU’s are entirely up to your interpretation, so long as they are featured prominently in your creation.

Read our FAQs thoroughly for event conduct, swapping prompts, schedule and more!

FAQs:

What is a Connect Four event? 

Simple! It’s very similar to a Bingo Event, where you will receive a card with four categories.  

What happens if we finish our card? 

You can request additional cards! Please only request a new card once you have finished your current card. If you are not happy with the prompts on your card, please request a swap for that square/those squares. You can request one swap per card, up to four squares (yes, you can ask for a whole new card).

To request a swap, please email us (buckybarnesevents@gmail.com) with your username, card number and the prompt(s) you are purging. 

Can we use a fill for another event as well (ie. another bingo, etc)?

Absolutely! So long as the other event allows it, we have no rules against cross-posting.

How do I post to the AO3 collection? 

Under collections (when posting), type in Connect 4: Into an Alternate June-iverse or Connect4AU

You can also add your work directly from the collection by going to https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Connect4AU and selecting “post to collection” on the top right. 

What fills are accepted?

Any creative media is accepted:

Fics — minimum 300 words Moodboards — minimum 6 images  Digital / traditional art (sketches, too)! Playlists — minimum 10 songs Etc. 

If there is a medium not listed that you want to create and you’re not sure about, shoot us an ask and we will add it to the list!

All work must be newly uploaded to count towards the fill (no entering a fic you published a few months ago, for example). They may count towards already existing AU’s that you write for (a new chapter for an ongoing fic), or they can be something brand new – it is entirely up to you.

ALL ENTRIES MUST BE YOUR OWN WORK. 

What pairings are allowed?

Any and all. Whether that be /Reader, /Steve, /Reader/Steve, /Natasha, /Clint, rare pairs, ot3s or more – so long as Bucky is still the main character.

Is there a limit to submissions?

Absolutely not. You are free to create as many works / pieces of media that you feel inspired for – whether that be 5 fics for a Mafia AU square, or 10. It does not matter.

Schedule:

24th of March – Signups open WHENEVER you receive your card, you can begin posting 30th of June – Submissions close

You can sign up to this event from the 24th right through until the end – keep in mind that we are aiming for cards to be in your inbox within 3 days of you signing the form – though we are only human, there may be delays. If you have concerns or if it takes longer than 5 days, please email us or tag @rookthorne / @buckyismybicycle on the discord server, and we will check the progress. 

Having trouble deciding what to do within a generalised AU prompt? 

Click here to see the list of possibilities. 

Need a prompt for a plot or just a bit of inspiration? 

Click here to be taken to a list of prompts and generators. 

BADGES:

Toe beans? Toe beans. = including Alpine in at least one creation. 

Connect 2 = 2 squares used in the one creation.

Connect 3 = 3 squares used in the one creation.

Connect 4 = 4 squares used in the one creation.

Best shot there is = completed one whole card.

Bullseye! = completed three whole cards.

You’re the Captain! = completed five whole cards.

Fluffier than a cloud = created at least one fluffy creation.

Hotter than a sauna = created at least one smutty creation.

Hurts worse than a heartbreak = created at least one angsty creation.

Darker than midnight = created at least one dark creation.

Stabbed deeper than the soul = created at least one whumpy creation.

[navybrat817]

The Animal Within

Pairing: Shifter!Bucky Barnes x Shifter!Female Reader Summary: Bucky can't help but follow you when you go through his territory. Word Count: Over 2.2k Warnings: Shifters, flirting, background character death, mention of blood, slight possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Meet Wolfie and Little Red! My fourth and final Connect 4 (C4007 - Square 4) / Into an Alternate Juneiverse AND Week 2 of Hot Bucky Summer for @buckybarnesevents! Theme - What should I call you? ❤️ Beta read by @whisperlullaby (thank you!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by @firefly-graphics and thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer and @buckets-and-trees for the encouragement! ❤️Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

When Bucky was a child, the townspeople warned him not to venture too far into the woods. Dangerous creatures lurked in the shadows and many who strayed far from the beaten path never came back. What they didn't know was that he often did that very thing since he could walk. The townspeople had no reason to fear for him. While they were right that the forest held many dangers, it was also a place of kinship and wonder. He found solace in the trees.

Because even predators had soft sides.

Which was one of the reasons he started tracking you.

Who are you?

Bucky knew every creature in his territory, but hadn’t seen you before. You were stunning and quick as you wove in and out of the trees, a blur of red amongst the green and brown background. You stopped at one point to smell some flowers, as if you didn’t have a care in the world. Something about your scent excited him like nothing else, tempting him to chase you down. He refrained from doing so and maintained a safe distance as he followed, not wanting to spook you. He should’ve alerted Steve and the others the deeper you went into the woods, but he wanted to keep you to himself for now.

As if you were his.

Steve would likely ask him later why he decided to follow you in the first place. The easy answer was that this wasn't your home and he wanted to know why you decided to go through this part of the forest. It also concerned him a bit that you were by yourself. While he had his found family, he wondered why wasn’t someone by your side? Was it by choice?

Why are you all alone out here, little red?

The air was cool in this part of the forest, even with the sun shining through the branches, but it didn't seem to bother you as you stopped to play with a rock. Bucky crouched between two trees, careful not to draw attention to himself as he curiously watched. You were smaller than him and appeared far too sweet for your own good. It was strange how he felt the need to protect you and snarl that you needed to stay alert. You were all alone and anyone could come along and just eat you up.

A snap of a twig drew his attention, lowering his body more when another scent drifted through the air. You, on the other hand, were perfectly content in your own little world. Either you didn't sense the foreboding atmosphere shift or you didn't care.

Why aren't you paying attention?!

Bucky bit back a growl when he spotted the large man coming from the opposite direction, almost blending in with the background as he watched you. The fur on the back of his neck stood up straight when he saw the arrow aimed in your direction. The man had every intention of killing you. It was a cruel way to die, especially when all you were doing was playing in the woods.

Now I have to save you.

As the hunter released his arrow, you surprised both of them by suddenly leaping toward the nearest tree and narrowly avoided getting hurt. You didn’t look down as you climbed up the bark and walked across one of the large branches with more agility than he expected, your eyes on the hunter as he reached for another arrow. You must have sensed him if you were able to dodge his weapon like that. If Bucky didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought you were laughing or playing a game.

No time to play around, little red. You can't stay up there all day.

You must have known that, too, since you leapt from the high height and onto the man below.

With a small scream, you tackled the hunter to the ground. He tried to toss you away, but he didn't stand a chance when you bit into his neck. Bucky didn't expect such ruthlessness from you, but he understood why you attacked since the hunter intended to kill you. And while he didn't normally hunt without giving chase, the tear of flesh and tissue from the man's throat urged the beast inside him to join you. He had to help as you were smaller and could still get hurt.

Pack mentality. Nothing more, right?

Bucky jumped through the trees and charged at the man lying in the dirt. He was still conscious enough to throw an arm up to try and defend himself, but it only led to the wolf chomping down and crunching the bone. He relented after a moment, only to join you in biting his neck. Blood hit his white fur and dripped onto the soil, staining the earth and adding the hunter to the long list of fallen souls in the shadows.

Should've stuck to the beaten path.

You snapped your head up at the sound of his snarl, licking some of the blood from around your mouth as you assessed him. You seemingly forgot about the lifeless hunter as you slowly backed away. Bucky didn't approach you and he wasn't your enemy, but refused to lower his head in submission as you hunched your back. He was almost impressed at the fearless flash in your eyes.

You won't win a fight against me.

Your body collided with his a second later, a firm reminder of your speed even though he was stronger. You didn't claw or bite as the two of you rolled away from the body, but you screamed again. Maybe you wanted to warn him that you weren't a creature to mess with. Or maybe you knew he followed you and wanted to retaliate.

It was for your own good.

Bucky got on top of you as you came to a stop. With a small growl and raise of his lips, he went for your throat. He would've bitten through your neck, but he didn't since his intention wasn't to kill you. He wouldn't let you do any damage to him either. The clench of his jaw was a warning of what he could do if you didn't submit and the hold was enough to make you go lax beneath him with a small sound. And it was the pounding of your heart against his fur that made him loosen his hold.

It's okay, little red.

He let go completely at the sound of snapping and shifting bones beneath him. He knew those noises all too well. The shrill shriek you let out faded to a groan as your body stretched, the red fur disappearing into your skin. Your eyes were still glowing as you completed the transformation from a fox to a human.

A beautiful, naked human.

Though the townspeople feared the woods and knew monsters existed, not everyone believed the myth that shifters roamed the land. But here you were, living proof just like him. Maybe that was why your scent called to him, a mixture of something wild and grounding. It was only right that he changed back into his human form, too. It didn't mean he'd give you the satisfaction of moving away while he shifted back, his bones molding and skin stretching with a grunt. His hair fell in his blue eyes as he exhaled, his breathing harsh as he realized just how close your bodies were.

And that he could smell your arousal.

"You know I didn't need you to save me, right, wolfie?" you smiled, bringing a hand to his cheek. He bristled, but not because it didn't feel nice. It was because you touched him without hesitation. "I had it under control."

Wolfie?

"I think you did need my help," he couldn't help but say. While you were a predator, you weren't as dangerous as him. Your touch was too soft. "You should be thanking me."

"Thank you for not minding your own business."

"It is my business when you're in my territory," he reminded you, placing his hands on each side of your head as he stared down at you. The intimidating look didn't make you cower. It made you smile.

Why aren't you afraid of me?

"I guess so," you said, stretching a little and drawing his attention to your neck. It would look beautiful with his mark on it.

No. I'm not thinking about claiming this beautiful, sly stranger.

"You guess so?"

"Okay, it is your business," you huffed softly. "That man killed a lot of defenseless creatures in the west end of the forest, so I lured him here. And if he didn't take me as bait, I figured a wolf would either scare him off or kill him."

Cunning and smart.

"So you did need my help," he smirked.

"I attacked him just fine without you."

True.

"But if you hadn't, you would've had to rely on me."

"Yes, I would have. Because you're so biiiiig and so strooooong and I'm sooooo helpless," you teased, raising an eyebrow when you purposely lifted your hips to touch his. "Well, you really are big."

His eyes slipped shut, but it didn't stop the blood from flowing south. You were so warm and soft. If he spread your legs a bit more and sheathed himself, he wondered just how tight and hot you'd feel around him. Would you cry out for him or whimper?

"You're also smelly and hairy like a dog," you added.

With a growl, his eyes flew open. Instead of showing fear, you laughed. He was so thrown off by the sound that you were able to use your strength to roll him on his back. The sight of you above him, your breasts lightly bouncing from another laugh, was one he'd later dream about.

"You know the thing about foxes? People always underestimate us," you said with a smile. "Because we're smaller than wolves and so cute. We look almost innocent."

Bucky laughed this time, the sound deep as he brought his hands to your hips to steady you. No other reason. "I know damned well you’re not innocent at all."

He held his breath as you leaned down, your nipples brushing against his chest. "And how would you know that?" you whispered, your lips so close he could almost kiss you.

The scent of blood and death was only a few feet away, but the tempting smell of your pussy had his mouth watering. He had to keep a level head though. He didn't know you. "No one innocent would rip a throat out like that."

He wondered just how many men you lured to their deaths with your act.

The hunter becomes the hunted.

The playfulness faded from your eyes as you sat up. Had he touched on a sore topic? "Sometimes we have to do those things in order to survive," you said, lifting your weight off of him. "Thank you so much for 'saving' me."

"Wait," he urged as he sat up, not wanting you to go away so quickly. That should've bothered him that he wanted you close by. Everything about his pull to you should have. "That's not a proper thank you."

"And what is?" you asked curiously, your eyes moving along his body as he stood up. He wasn't ashamed of his nakedness. If anything, he liked that you saw some of his scars.

"Helping me get rid of this body," he answered, nodding to the hunter. He'd already have to explain to Steve that he assisted in killing him, but he wasn't at all sorry. "And I need to make sure you get back to the border safely."

You nodded after a moment. "Not the kind of 'thank you' I thought you'd want, but I'll help," you said, briefly looking up at the sky and avoiding his gaze. "Don't worry about taking me back. I can manage just fine getting out of here. I'm used to going it alone."

I don't like that.

"I'd feel better if I went with you," he said.

"Fine," you agreed, gesturing to yourself when a breeze picked up, goosebumps rising on your skin. "Just wish I had my red cape to cover up. Unless you don't mind the view."

He licked his lips when you did a spin, giving him a view of every delicious curve of your body. "I don't mind," he admitted.

Hell, he was still half hard just from having you against him on the ground.

"I like you, wolfie," you smiled.

"That's not my name," he said, even if the little nickname made him want to smile.

"What should I call you?" you asked, brushing a bit of dirt off his right arm.

"Bucky," he replied, gently taking your arm before you could walk away. "What should I call you?"

You smiled as you gave him your name and moved in close again. "You can call me little red if you want," you told him, your breath fanning against his ear. "Let's get to work."

Maybe once you finished burying the body, Bucky would convince you to tell him a bit more about yourself. Because he wasn't ready to let you leave his territory yet. Not when he sensed you had no one to go back to. And he had a feeling you weren't quite ready to leave yet either.

Surprise, surprise, I love them already. Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[drabbles-mc]

Do You Need Someone?

Bucky Barnes x F!Soldier!Reader

Summary: In the aftermath of finally getting control over his own mind, Bucky tries to start building a normal life for himself. Just like any soldier coming back from the war, he needs a helping hand with it all.

Warnings: 18+, angst, language, PTSD, mentions of war/violence, hospitals

For the Alternate June-iverse Event Prompt: therapist

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: I love the idea of instead of Bucky getting funneled right into Avengers things when he gets his mind back, he just gets to be a "normal" vet. This AU was so much fun to write but I was a fool to think that I could pack everything that I wanted to do with it into one story, so there will definitely be more installments of this as time goes on. However, I feel like this is a good kickstart to it and could be a standalone if I let it be. It's also my first Bucky readerfic! What a time! Hope you enjoy! Also, shout-out to @buckybarnesevents for hosting this event! xo

MCU Taglist: @garbinge @artemiseamoon (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

Bucky stared up at the towering concrete walls that made up the outside of the hospital. It felt so strange to show up here after everything. It felt too normal after all that he’d been through. But, if he was going to try and scrape together any semblance of a normal life, he supposed that this wasn’t the worst place to start. This hospital was one of the few in the area that worked directly with the VA, so that’s where Sam had sent him.

He looked down at the screen of his phone, looking over all of the information for his initial appointment here. Today was just supposed to be about getting set up with a doctor, specifically one who knew a good deal about prosthetics. What he had was going to be above most people’s paygrades, but he tried to be optimistic about it all.

Once he was inside and made his way to the elevator, he hit the button for the floor the woman at the front desk had given him. It was only a few floors up but the trip up felt like it took much longer than it should’ve. Finally, there was the singular ding that let Bucky know he had finally gotten to his destination. He strode off the elevator, trying his best to weave through the people getting on without bumping into them. He fought the urge to pull his baseball cap farther down over his face—old habits die hard.

“How can I help you today?” the woman at the desk greeted him

He cleared his throat, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I’m supposed to have an appointment?”

She nodded, fingers flying across the keyboard. “Name?”

“Buc—” he stopped himself short, “James. Barnes.”

He could’ve sworn he saw something flicker across her face, but it was gone before he could think too much on it. Looking up from her screen and back at him, she smiled and nodded before handing him a clipboard. “Fill this out for me, please. Feel free to take a seat in the waiting area. Your doctor will be with you shortly.”

Bucky found a chair towards the back of the waiting room, one that situated him without anyone sitting right next to him. No one there really seemed to be paying him any mind, but he still felt like all eyes were on him. He tapped the pen against the edge of the clipboard in his lap as he read over the sheet in front of him.

It didn’t take him long to fill out the form. Most of his information had been sent to the hospital already. But all of the questions wanting to get into more details of the reason for his visits, any symptoms or things that he was struggling with that he wanted to discuss more in depth with his doctor, felt like they were trick questions at worst, essay questions at best. He did his best to keep it short and sweet—part of him had to assume that whatever doctor landed his case had to know what they were getting into. If nothing else, he knew that Sam would’ve at least made sure of that.

When he was done filling it out, he brought it back up to the front desk before promptly going and finding his seat again. He took the time to study everyone around him a little closer. He’d taken vague note of everyone when he first arrived, that was a habit he didn’t think that he would ever shake, but now he really tried to study them all.

There was such a range of people. There were a lot of younger people, people that were fighting wards that Bucky hadn’t even really had the time to fully learn about yet. He also noticed the few older people who were in the waiting room too, people who looked the way that Bucky would if he’d had any sort of a normal trajectory in life after the war. He tried not to think too hard about it—he had enough things clogging up his mind for the time being.

Like a saving grace, the sound of his name put a stop to his spiraling thoughts. “Barnes?”

“Yea,” the word came out before he thought better of it. He was instantly standing up out of his seat, grabbing his backpack off the floor as he went.

The appointment wasn’t as daunting as Bucky had been making it out to be in his head. The doctor gave him a general checkup, but most of what they did was talk. They talked about treatment plans for old injuries that never really healed properly, about what the strategy was going to be for care when it came to his arm.

“I think,” his doctor said as she set her clipboard off to the side, “the thing that’s going to be most helpful for you, though, is finding someone that you can talk to.” She saw the slight panic on Bucky’s face at the mere thought of it. “I can help you with all of the physical things, but I’m not the most qualified to help coach you through coping with everything that you’ve been through. We have some great psychiatrists here and—”

“I don’t wanna be catatonic because someone decided I need to be on a bunch of meds,” he said, cutting her off with a tone that wasn’t loud, but it was firm.

She took it in stride, simply giving an understanding nod. “I completely understand that. We also have a really great team of counselors who do group and individual therapy sessions. I think that you would benefit a lot from shopping around and finding someone that you feel comfortable talking with.” She paused, seeing the hesitation still on his face. “I can’t make you book an appointment with someone, James, but I really think that you should consider it. Getting your body working well is all fine and good, but your brain has undergone just as much trauma as your body.”

He shifted uncomfortably on the bed in the exam room, the paper crinkling beneath him. “Right.”

The doctor stood up and went to the wall where they had rows of pamphlets. Trailing her fingers along a few of them, she scanned until she found the one she’d been looking for. Plucking it from the holder, she stepped back over and handed it to Bucky.

“Like I said, I’m not here to force you. But here are the doctors here and the services they provide. The front desk can also give you an updated schedule for group therapy sessions that are held here.”

He took the pamphlet from her, still unsure of whether or not he planned on even looking at all of the names let alone calling any of the people to schedule an appointment. Still, he nodded and tucked it into his backpack. “Thank you.”

She gave a nod and took a step towards the door, a silent signal for Bucky that he was now free to go. His body relaxed a little bit as he stood up from the bed and slung his bag onto his shoulders again. She pulled the door open and allowed him to walk through first, letting him know to stop by the front desk to schedule their next appointment before he left.

Once he stopped by the desk to make his next appointment, he started to make his way back towards the elevator. He was looking down, pulling his phone out of his pocket when he felt someone accidentally bump against his shoulder. He tensed up, caught off-guard, but when he saw the frazzled and apologetic look on your face, his annoyance faded a little bit.

“Sorry,” you said, shaking your head at yourself. “Wasn’t looking where I was going…obviously.” You offered a tiny, awkward smile.

He shrugged, tone neutral as he said, “It’s okay.”

“Was running late for group and then I got off on the wrong floor before I got here. So, you know,” you reached up and dragged your hands down your face in exasperation, “just having one of those days.”

“Group?” he asked, noticing the dog tags that were hanging around your neck.

“Yea. Oh,” you paused, looking him over, trying to figure out if you’d seen him before and forgotten, “is that where you’re heading too?”

His eyes widened and he shook his head. “N-no. I just, um,” he motioned back towards the hall with the exam rooms, causing you to see the silver metal of his hand and arm, “just had an appointment. Doc mentioned something about groups here though.”

“You wanna come check it out?” Your smile grew a little warmer. “They might take it easy on me for being late if I bring a friend.”

His brows furrowed for a moment. “I don’t think I can just, I don’t have an appointment. Or a therapist.”

You shook your head at him. “It’s fine. They won’t turn you away.”

Bucky didn’t believe much in fate, but this felt fate-adjacent. He knew that if he walked out of the hospital, there was no way that he was going to look into things and find his own therapist and go through that hassle.

You could see him debating it all in his head. “If you’re not feeling it, you can just get up and leave. No harm, no foul.”

He hesitated for a moment longer before finally giving a small nod. “Okay.”

You nodded, not wanting to make a big deal over it and make him more uncomfortable. “Great! Follow me.” The two of you fell into stride with each other. You were a few doors away from the room you needed to be in when you asked him, “Sorry, what’s your name? Forgot to ask before I wrangled you into going to therapy with me.”

The sound of your laugh got him to give a hint of a smile. “I’m James.”

You nodded, giving your name in return. “Nice to meet you, James.”

When the two of you walked into the room, all eyes went to you for a moment. It was only fair, since you did show up late. No one looked annoyed. You being a few minutes late was the least of anyone’s problems.

Your counselor, the one who ran the group, was a man who was about ten years older than you. He’d been the therapist you’d been working with ever since you came back from your second deployment. You considered yourself to be extremely lucky that you got along with one of the first therapists you’d seen, because you knew that a lot of people didn’t have that experience.

However, because of your good rapport with him, he was the first and only one to give you grief about being late. “Nice of you to join us,” he said it with a smile, no malice in his voice.

“I know I’m late, Doc,” you didn’t even try to argue, “but I did pick up a straggler.”

There was a moment of silence as Bucky and your counselor both looked at each other. It was clear that Bucky was sizing the man up, and your doctor was content to let him. He broke the silence. “Happy to have you.” He gestured to the few empty chairs that were left. “There are no bad seats, so pick any one you want.”

Since you were the one who had essentially talked him into coming to group in the first place, you made sure that the two of you at least managed to get seats that were right next to each other. It didn’t take someone with a doctorate to see that Bucky didn’t really want to talk. So, thankfully, no one tried to make him.

As the minutes ticked by, part of you was waiting for him to just get up and leave. You were pleasantly surprised when he didn’t, though. It was evident that he wasn’t fully comfortable, and no one could really blame him for that. But he was watching and listening intently as different people spoke up and shared what they’d been struggling with, what they had going on. He sat, his backpack between his feet and one elbow propped against each knee as he took it all in.

You felt his eyes on you when you took a turn to speak. You talked about how you had trouble sleeping, that your nightmares weren’t as frequent as they used to be but they would still happen every now and again and make it impossible for you to even attempt to fall back to sleep after the fact. You mentioned that you didn’t take your sleeping meds anymore because you figured out that they were making your nightmares worse. You were looking at the tile floor as you spoke, but you could hear your counselor taking notes on what you were saying. He did it for everyone in group, stuff to circle back to or bring up in individual sessions.

It wasn’t long after that, that group came to a close. You didn’t know why, but you were glad to see that the man beside you had stayed for the whole thing. Sure, you didn’t know him, but you didn’t have to know him to know that everyone needed a bit of help when it came to stuff like this. Group was a decent place to start.

People were starting to filter out when you and Bucky stood up from your seats. You turned to look over at him, watching as he put his backpack back on. “Not horrible, right?” you said with a laugh.

The tiny smile he gave didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it was still something. “Not horrible. Thanks, um, you know, for the invite.”

You shook your head. “Don’t gotta thank me.”

Before either of you could say anything else, your counselor materialized beside the two of you. He looked back and forth between the two of you, a content smile on his face. He addressed you first, thanking you for coming and sharing, before turning to Bucky. He held out his hand. “Sorry I didn’t get a real chance to introduce myself earlier. I’m Dr. Anderson.”

Bucky nodded as he firmly shook the man’s hand. “I’m James. Sorry for just showing up.”

“No need to apologize—that’s how a lot of people start off here. I hope to see you back again if you can make it.”

Bucky brought his hands up to his chest, holding the straps of his backpack, clearly not sure how to navigate the rest of the interaction. “Thanks.”

Dr. Anderson turned to you as he started to walk away. “And I’ll see you…”

“Friday, yes.” You laughed. “On time.”

He chuckled. “On time.”

It was just you and Bucky now as you started to walk towards the door that would land you back out in the hallway of the hospital. You both seemed content to walk next to each other, neither of you saying anything about the group session, or anything else. You walked side by side all the way to the elevator.

“First floor?”

He nodded. “Yea.”

As the elevator started to go down, you said, “If I didn’t already hijack most of your evening, I would say we could go grab food or coffee or something and talk if you wanted. But I get it if you want to just get home, or do whatever it was you were planning on doing before I ran you over.”

Bucky huffed out a quiet chuckle. “Thanks.”

The elevator doors opened up and you both walked towards the main entrance and exit of the hospital. You didn’t know what to say at this point. It wasn’t like you were friends—there wasn’t even a guarantee that you would ever even see him again. You figured that telling him to have a good one would have to suffice.

Right as you stepped out onto the sidewalk, you were going to say just that, but he beat you to the punch with a completely different statement. “Are these every week? Or…?”

Your face brightened at the question. “Yea! I mean, Anderson holds his every Wednesday, and usually he’ll do one extra evening at some point during the week as well in case people can’t make the Wednesday one. But other doctors hold them at different times on different days.”

“Right,” he said with a nod.

“Wanna come back next week?” you offered.

“Uh, yea, yea okay.”

“Great!” You paused. “Oh, would you, um, do you want my number? In case you have any questions or anything?”

His eyes widened a bit at your question, clearly not having expected that to be the next thing you said. Still, he nodded, if out of bewilderment than anything else. “Okay.”

He dug his phone out of his pocket and handed it over to you. You quickly added your name and number to his contacts and handed the phone back to him. “Anything comes up, feel free to text or call or whatever.”

“Thank you.” He said, eyes looking at your contact listing in his phone.

“No problem! I’ll see you next week.”

“See you.”

The week went by faster than Bucky had thought it would. Trying to figure out what it was like to just be a regular person after everything that happened was more time consuming than he thought it was going to be. He didn’t know how he simultaneously felt like he wasn’t doing anything at all, while also being so busy all the time. If it hadn’t been for the alarm on his phone, he would’ve completely forgotten that it was already time for group again.

His second session went by much like his first. He didn’t really talk. At least this time he got the chance to introduce himself. Still, he did more listening than anything else. He sat next to you again, the two of you making small talk before and after the group session.

And that was how it went for the next couple weeks. He’d say a few words here and there during sessions sometimes, but he was never one to have much of a monologue. You could tell that he was still fighting to get comfortable with the idea of sharing, but at least he was still showing up. That meant something—you of all people would know. Each week that went by, you always offered to grab a bite or some coffee when group was over, and every week he always found a kind way to say no. You didn’t take it personally—he didn’t seem like the type to be much of a social butterfly.

That was why, when the fourth week rolled around and you didn’t see Bucky there, you were a little worried but not too much. No one was held to the standard of having to show up every week. You just did it because you knew that you needed it. He was probably just busy.

When group ended and you checked your phone, you saw a text from an unknown number. Normally, your automatic reaction was just to delete them. But when you read the preview of the message in your notification bar, you had a pretty good idea of who it was.

“Sorry I didn’t make it tonight. Can I still cash in on the offer to get coffee?” You were about to start typing out a response when a second text came in. “This is James btw”

For some reason that caused more concern than him not showing up did. You instantly replied, “Of course. Got a place in mind?”

A few texts later the two of you had settled on a spot. It was within walking distance of the hospital, and it had you wondering if it was also within walking distance of his apartment, or maybe he was coming from somewhere else entirely.

When you walked through the door of the diner, the first thing that you did was look around to see if he was already there. Sure enough, he was sitting at one of the booths in the back of the restaurant. He had the same baseball cap as usual on, pulled down so that it was covering most of his face. He still had his hoodie and jacket on, so either he hadn’t been there long or he just hadn’t been comfortable enough to take them off.

You made your way back to the booth where he was sitting, sliding in across from him. When his eyes snapped up to yours, you could see the exhaustion all over his face. You tried not to let your expression falter too much as you got situated. “Hey, James.” You paused for a moment. “Everything, um, everything okay?”

The answer seemed obvious but you figured that he wasn’t going to come right out and say anything without asking. He nodded, picking at the edge of the napkin in front of him. “Long day.”

You nodded slowly. “I get that. Do you…do you wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head. “Not really.”

That was about what you had expected. “Okay.” There was a brief pause in your conversation as the waitress stopped at your table, asking for your order and taking right off again when you asked for two coffees. When she was gone, you picked right back up where you’d left off. “Want to listen to me talk?”

He looked up at you at the sound of that question. It wasn’t what he had been expecting. Still, he found himself nodding.

You gave a warm smile as you leaned forward, bracing your arms against the edge of the table between you. “Want me to talk about group stuff? Or not group stuff?”

He gnawed at his bottom lip, considering the question for a moment before finally answering, “Group stuff.”

“So, let me think.” You lightly drummed your fingers on the tabletop. “You already know about my rampant insomnia and occasional night terrors,” you made light of your own struggles to cope with it, and if nothing else you hoped that he would at least find you to be an amusing distraction from whatever was bothering him, “but I’ve never actually talked about what landed me in group with Dr. Anderson, have I?”

Bucky shook his head. “No.”

“It’s not, you know,” you hesitated for a moment, “it’s not like what you’ve been through per se.” There was no point in pretending that you hadn’t learned about who he was in the last month of seeing him at the hospital every week. “But, I was getting towards the end of my second tour. I was thinking about extending it, coming back for a third. You know how it goes. Can’t…can’t leave the war once you’re in it. I only had a couple weeks left, which felt like no time at all and also the longest fourteen days possible. We were on our way back to base one night when our vehicle got hit. Came outta fucking nowhere.” You shook your head. “There were six of us packed in there, only two of us made it out. It was…it was a mess.”

The words, “I’m sorry,” were on the tip of Bucky’s tongue, but if anyone knew how useless apologies were, it was him.

You pushed up the sleeve of your hoodie that was covering your right arm, revealing a pattern of scarring that Bucky instantly recognized as burn scars. “Not quite as cool as a metal arm,” you joked despite the tears starting to sting at your eyes, “but you know, some chicks still dig it.”

The conversation was halted again when your waitress reappeared with coffees for both of you. She was about to ask if you were ready to order anything else when she saw the looks on both of your faces. Reading the room, she said, “I’ll be back in a few minutes for your orders.”

Sniffling and blinking the tears away, you reached for a few packets of sugar to tear and pour into your coffee. “So, as you can imagine, I was a little unwell after all of that. Didn’t even finish out my last two weeks. Got sent home, and got funneled right into the VA hospital. I’ve worked with Dr. Anderson ever since. He now has me on a strict regimen of three sessions a week—one group, two individual.”

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly at that. “Wow.”

You shrugged, taking a sip of your coffee. “It’s a lot, but I need it. It’s, you know, it’s good for me.”

“It helps?” he asked.

You nodded with no hesitation. “It does. I know I still talk about having trouble sleeping and stuff, but when I first came home they pretty much had to sedate me. It was,” you let out a hollow laugh, “it was not good. If I didn’t have him, and some other really good doctors with good meds to level me out, I don’t think I’d still be here.”

The two of you sat in silence for a minute, letting the weight of your words hang in the air between you. Bucky had wondered in passing what had happened, the same way anyone would. If you hadn’t offered it up, though, he never would’ve asked.

Clearing your throat, you said, “You should eat something.” You took another sip of your coffee. “I know I’m going to.”

A small smile tried to curl the ends of his mouth. He knew that at this point you were probably assuming that he hadn’t eaten all day, and you were right. When the waitress came back over, you each placed an order before getting back to your conversation.

“I know it’s hard to think that things are gonna get better,” you told him honestly, “especially after everything you went through, but it will.”

“This your way of telling me not to miss group next week?” he asked before taking a sip of his coffee.

You laughed and shook your head. “No, no. I mean, I enjoy having you in group. I just,” you paused for a moment, “I’m not gonna pretend to know what happened today, or what you’ve gone through, but I’d hate to see anyone give up.”

“I don’t think that I can just tell everyone about everything. How do you get comfortable with that?”

You shook your head. “I don’t tell everyone everything. There’s a lot of shit that I only discuss one-on-one with Anderson. Some stuff I only talk about with my friend who went through it with me. The stuff I talk about in group is just what I’m comfortable discussing there.”

He nodded, the furrow in his brow deepening as he mulled over what you said. “Right.”

The waitress brought your orders over setting them down and promptly walking away again, realizing that the two of you were still very much involved in an intense conversation.

“You just need to find one person to start with,” you told him.

“Like a therapist?” he said, a bit of a joking sarcastic lilt to his voice.

You laughed, shrugging. “Yea. Or a friend.”

You noticed the way that those last three words gave him pause as he stared across the table at you. You gave him the illusion of privacy as you kept your eyes fixed on your plate. When a few more seconds of silence went by, you looked back up at him, only to find him still looking at you with an expression that you couldn’t quite figure out. Regardless, there was a smile on your face that was warm enough to let him know that you were alright as long as he was.

After a few more minutes of silence with the two of you eating, he said, “I didn’t recognize where I was when I woke up this morning.” He waited to see your reaction, but when you didn’t flinch at his statement, he continued. “It was my apartment, but I didn’t…at first…I thought…”

“And then once you realized, you didn’t want to leave.”

He nodded once. “Yea.”

“That…that happen a lot?”

“Not a lot. More than it should.”

“You made it here, though.”

He scoffed, frustrated with himself. “Only took me—”

You cut him off, “But you did it. That’s progress.”

Some of the tension melted out of his shoulders as he conceded with a nod. The two of you went back to eating after that, exchanging an occasional remark here and there, but for the most part just soaking up the comfort between you.

You tried to pay for the meal, but Bucky insisted, so you let him have that. The two of you walked out together, lingering on the sidewalk once you were outside.

“I’m glad you reached out,” you told him with a nod as you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jeans.

Embarrassment flashed across his face for a moment but he agreed, “Me too. Thanks, you know, for this.”

You smiled. “Any time.” There was a pause and then you asked, “I’ll see you next Wednesday?”

He chuckled and nodded. “Next Wednesday, yea.”

“Good. Take care of yourself, alright?”

“You too.”

You laughed. “I will. Goodnight, James.”

“Goodnight.” He watched as you turned and went to walk down the sidewalk towards your own apartment. You got a couple steps away before he finally got himself to say your name and get your attention. When you turned back around to face him, he hesitated for a moment before saying, “Bucky. My, my friends call me Bucky.”

A warm feeling washed over you as you took in the weight of what he’d just said. You smiled as you amended your previous statement, “Goodnight, Bucky.”

[writing-for-marvel]

Triage

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

Series Masterlist | PART 2 > >

Summary: A slightly reckless and exceedingly charming paramedic carries a young girl into your ER, proving that not all superheroes wear capes.

Warnings: strictly 18+ due to the AU, set in an emergency room, I am not a healthcare worker and my medical knowledge is limited to what I’ve seen in Greys Anatomy lol, incident where people are injured from a derailed train, mentions of wounds & surgery & loss of life, injuries to a young child, needles & stitching, my terrible attempt at writing flirty banter

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: based off the winner of this poll, we say hello to paramedic!Bucky ❤️ this is my first entry for the Connect 4: Into an Alternate June-iverse Event by @buckybarnesevents, fulfilling the prompt ‘First Responder AU’. Thank you to @rookthorne who looked this over for me and gave me the confidence to keep writing it 🩵 banners by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

“Incoming trauma. Train collided with a car and derailed. First wave ETA three minutes.”

At the moment your director of emergency medicine announces the tragedy and flood of imminently arriving patients, the televisions in the emergency room switch to breaking news - a presenter, wearing a solemn expression, speaks as a split screen shows what you can only describe as a colossal catastrophe.

The ER becomes silent as all eyes focus on the screens, only the rhythmic beeping of the pulse oximeters cut through the silence, a heavy weight blanketing the room as the realisation of what you’re seeing sets in.

You can’t hear what precisely he’s saying, but you can’t bring yourself to look away whilst watching the live chopper vision of smoke billowing from the train laying unnaturally on its side, barely any movement from the scene makes you wonder if anyone could have survived the incident.

The three minutes before the ambulances arrive go by in a flash, feeling like you hardly have time to mentally prepare for the extent of injuries and potential loss of life you will be facing. Then, almost in an instant, as if flicking a switch, chaos in its purest form descends upon the emergency room.

You watch on as paramedics and firefighters wheel patients in on gurneys, one by one filling up the limited trauma beds in the ER. Dr Stephen Strange directs medical personnel, making sure each case is assigned to an appropriate physician, the more serious injuries bypassing trauma intake all together and heading straight towards surgery.

Your eyes land on one man in particular between the sensory overload of people - tall, broad shoulders with long chestnut hair, carrying a young girl with one strong arm as he pushes a gurney with the other. Who you can only assume is the girl's mother, is unconscious and has blood staining the roots of her long blonde hair. Your heart aches for them as she’s handed over to the surgery team in wait, and even though the ER is filled with many conflicting loud voices, you hear the high pitched cry of the young girl for her mommy. The paramedic, now with his second arm free, pulls her into his chest before making his way to one of the trauma beds.

“You!” Dr Strange’s voice pulls your attention back to the fray and you find he’s pointing directly to you - you’ll forgive him for forgetting the name of a new resident during this moment of crisis. “The young girl with Barnes, she’s your responsibility.” That’s all the instruction he has time for before moving onto the next resident.

As you make your way through the maze of people towards the young girl, your mind flashes back to the footage of the wreckage and how grim it appeared. It seems like a miracle that this young girl is conscious and looks relatively unharmed with the exception of a few abrasions.

“I’m the one who brought her in, she’ll be all alone while her mother is in surgery, all I’m asking is to stay with her while she gets examined.” The well-built paramedic, Barnes, argues with your head nurse, pride and admiration swelling warm in your chest - he’s standing up for a scared, young girl who can’t voice what she needs right now.

“That’s perfectly fine.” You cut in, knowing Christine is a stickler for protocol and would never allow non-family members to stay with patients, even in dire circumstances. If there is a time to bend the rules slightly, you figure this is it. “I think she feels a lot more comfortable with you here anyway, isn’t that right sweetie?” The young girl nods her head, little hands reaching out to grab hold of the paramedics’ large one, eyes brimming with frightened tears.

“Thank you.” He mouths as Christine storms off to deal with the many other patients that require her attention. Your focus now switches to the precious girl in front of you - no matter how hectic the ER gets, how devastating the incident is, your thoughts need to be directed solely on her care, and not ogling at the attractive EMT who is currently soothing her.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” You ask the scared, little girl, but not before offering your own as a sign of good faith. She looks up to Barnes for reassurance before answering.

“Sasha.” She confesses with a small voice, partially hiding her face in the broad paramedic’s arm as she does so.

“Okay Sasha, I’m here to check you over, help patch up these cuts and make sure you have no other injuries so we can get you up to see your mommy as soon as possible. Can I do that for you?” She nods her head, sitting up a little straighter in the bed all the while maintaining a tight hold on Barnes’ hand.

“Can you tell me who your friend here is, Sasha?” You ask as you start your examination, feeling the medics’ pair of eyes watching you intently, something more than just concern for your patient's well-being has heat creeping up your chest to the tips of your ears in silent attraction.

“Bucky. He pulled me from the train.”

“All by himself? Wow, he must be super strong to do that.” You glance up at Bucky to find him staring at you with what you hope is a mixture of captivation and endearment. He offers an enchanting smile, making butterflies, which have no right to exist in an emergency room, flutter in your stomach.

“He also got my mommy too.” Sasha adds, you suspect with the youthful intent to impress you even more.

“As well!” You say in a dramatic tone which makes her beam a proud smile that she did in fact amaze you. “Sasha, I think you got rescued by a real life superhero.” You continue in a staged whisper that not only has Sasha giggling, but brings a flush to Bucky’s cheeks. The bashful blush only makes him more attractive in your eyes.

As you continue your examination, cleaning and bandaging all lacerations, keeping Sasha distracted by asking about her favourite activities and animals, you can progressively feel her opening up and trusting you more. From your experience, it can be difficult to earn a child’s trust when they are in such a foreign place, surrounded by strangers, and in particular in this scenario, when a parent isn’t around. Having Bucky, whom she formed a bond with as soon as he rescued her from the train, stay by her side through the ordeal, has been to both your benefit.

Once you cleaned all her cuts, making sure Bucky held her hands so Sasha could squeeze when the disinfectant caused a sharp, stinging sensation, you begin examining her stomach, prodding her abdomen for any signs of tenderness.

“Does that hurt, Sasha?” You enquire when she flinches and whines at your touch.

“Yes, right there.” You're proud she trusts you enough to admit that, though now concerned about potential internal bleeding. You need to act fast, but you don’t want to instil more fear in her given she’s already had a large dose today.

“Okay, it’s nothing to worry about yet, but I’m going to order you a scan so we can see what’s going on in your tummy.” Your eyes flick instinctively to Bucky, to provide some consolation in a time where you’re both worried about the young girl you’ve both become attached to in such a short time. You see the considerable concern furrowed in his brow soften when his eyes meet yours.

“Will it hurt?” Sasha’s frightened voice breaks your heart - she’s had to endure enough pain and suffering for the day, watching her mother cling to life in an ambulance, you’re desperate not to add to it.

“Not at all, it’s as painless as having your picture taken!” You explain, watching the alarm melt from her features, and feeling the tension in Bucky’s shoulders relax simultaneously. “All you have to do is stay really, really still, can you do that for Bucky and I?” The notion that there is a Bucky and you makes something in your chest buoyant.

“Yes!” She promises without missing a beat and Bucky squeezes her small hands with a relieved smile.

When Sasha’s attention turns to the nurse whose job it is to take her up for the scan, you notice Bucky discretely wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. He says a sweet goodbye before she’s wheeled away, knowing this is where a paramedic and hospital patient part ways. Sasha enthusiastically waves back to both of you as the nurses wheels her away, not stopping until they turn a corner and she’s completely out of sight.

Bucky clears the lump in his throat before stating, “I think it’s my turn to leave now.”

“Don’t think I can’t see you wincing every time you move. Sit your cute butt down, you aren’t going anywhere till I check you over too.” You say as you finish completing the form to refer Sasha for the CT scan, missing the downright cheeky smirk plastered on Bucky's face.

“You think I have a cute butt, huh?” You can hear the smugness in his voice and you have to fight the corners of your mouth from upturning in a smile. He does have a cute butt - not that you’ve been staring - but you’re certainly not admitting that to his gorgeous face.

“Not the point - now, shirt off so I can take a look.” Finishing your paperwork, you finally look up to notice his cocked head and flirty smile. Having studied long hours in med school and worked even longer hours all last year as an intern, you recognise it’s been a while since a stranger has looked at you with this level of desire.

“At least buy me dinner before you ask to see me naked.”

“I’m a doctor, I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” You challenge, even though you’re positive his strapping frame, which fills out his uniform completely, will be even more impressive without a shirt. You have to swallow the saliva forming in your mouth so you quite literally don’t drool at the thought of his unclad body.

“Why don’t we find an on-call room and I can prove to you it’s not.” He teases in a low, alluring voice and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself smiling like an idiot - it, however, does not stop your face from warming like a heating pad. It’s infuriating how beautiful he is, and it’s definitely criminal to act as cocky as he is right now.

“Only if you let me patch you up first.” You bargain.

Bucky finally concedes, unbuttoning and shrugging off his uniform shirt to reveal a wound in his side about the length of a teaspoon which is still trickling blood. The tightening concern which overwhelms your body at the sight of the gash, which is much worse than you predicted he’d be concealing and will require stitches, distracts you from the allure of seeing his shirtless chest.

You shake your head, knowing he would have been fully aware he was injured since pulling Sasha and her mom from the train, and in an incredible amount of pain, but waited until others received treatment before allowing himself to be tended to.

“You should have told me about this.” Tentatively you place gauze over the cut, gently applying pressure to stop the oozing but not firm enough where he’s in pain. You can feel his attentive eyes following your every careful move, and maybe it’s just your imagination, but you swear you can hear his breath hitch in his throat and feel his thumping heartbeat quicken as your hands graze his bare skin.

“There are many people in need of more urgent care than me.”

You look up at him from your position tending to his abdomen to find his face intimately close to yours. You can’t help yourself, being this close to him, but your eyes flicker to his lips, noticing a faint scar along his top lip you could only perceive by being this close.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it at all.”

Bucky gazes deeply into your eyes with a vulnerability which makes you doubt whether anyone has ever appraised him that he is worth taking care of. The thought feels like a punch to your gut.

“It’s relatively superficial, I can look after it myself.” He attempts to brush you off. If this weren’t your first time meeting the guy, and you didn’t feel like you were overstepping by protesting, you wouldn’t let him dismiss you so easily. “Can’t you overlook protocol this one time and give me the okay to get back out in the field? We are still looking through the wreckage for survivors, need all hands on deck” He flashes you wide, puppy dog eyes which have you melting at the knees. You suspect this isn’t the first time he’s used this ploy to get what he wants.

As if he can sense your resolve dissolving the longer you look in his mesmerising eyes, he starts to stand. But no, you aren’t going to let those ocean blues and infectious smile stop you from doing your job, and showing Bucky that his well-being is just as important as anyone else who came into the ER today. Placing your hands on his bare, broad shoulders, you push him back down onto the bed.

“You won’t be able to help anyone when you’re back in here with sepsis because this wound got infected.” You comment as you prepare the suture kit and implements you’ll need to first clean out the wound.

“At least that way I’d be able to see you again.” He jests, before sharp intake of breath as you begin disinfecting and debriding the laceration.

Even though you realise he’s joking, hopefully only about not taking care of his wound properly and not about wanting to see you again, you suspect there’s a small sliver of truth he’s hiding. There typically is a grain of truth in every joke - he seriously would have returned to the scene without receiving treatment if you hadn’t stopped him, twice.

“You don’t need the excuse of a life threatening illness to see me again. In fact, I would prefer it that way.”

Bucky eyes you with fondness as you finish up washing out his wound, even through the sharp sting and you expressing your disapproval of his careless actions. You’re not sure what you’ve done to deserve the warmth in his gaze, but you enjoy it nonetheless.

Once the area is numbed, you can instantly sense the ease which overcomes Bucky at no longer being in discomfort. Though the grunts and groans that slipped past his lips were rather sexy, you much rather seeing him in an absence of pain.

The two of you stay in comfortable silence as you lend all your attention to the placement and execution of each stitch, knowing that if you do a good enough job, a wound this size will heal to an almost imperceptible scar. Though it’s difficult, you restrain your focus from how the taut muscles of his stomach flex as you're working.

“Alright, almost good as new.” Is what you comment once you’ve thrown the last stitch and placed a bandage over the area. “You’re ready to get back to being a real life superhero.” You tease, knowing the effect the word had on him last time. You’re pleased to see that same blush bloom lightly over his high cheekbones.

“Thanks for lookin’ after me, doc.” Bucky shows his gratitude with a lopsided smile you could get so used to basking in. As he buttons up his shirt, you allow your eyes to linger on his clearly defined abs for a second before they’re covered over. He really has no right to be as gorgeous and charming as he is. “And for being such a bright light in what has otherwise been a very dark day.”

“Same to you, Bucky.” Guilt eats away at a small part of you that during what is for a lot of people in this hospital such a tragic day, you’ve instead actually enjoyed the company of a cheeky paramedic.

“Take care of Sasha for me, won’t you?”

“She’s in the best hands.”

“I don’t doubt that for a minute.” He says with a tone which makes you think he’s only referring to you, when you were in fact meaning the entire hospital staff. Your heart flutters at the implication.

When neither of you say anything more, silence lingering for an almost awkward length, Bucky turns to leave. Even though you know you eventually must part ways, your heart aches that the end has seemingly come so soon. Luckily, you have a reason to call him back and spend an extra moment together.

“Hang on, you need to sign a release form before you’re allowed to go.” You say, hand brushing his as you provide a clipboard and pen, a shiver running up your arm which you hope Bucky doesn’t notice. If he does, he doesn’t mention it as instead he quickly surveils the document and chuckles.

“If you wanted my phone number, all you had to do was ask.” Damn him and that cheeky, smug grin you’re already falling for.

“This is purely protocol.” You counter, wanting to take his cocky persona down a peg. Bucky simply smirks, as if he can easily see through your half-truth like glass.

“So you’re telling me you don’t want my number?” He challenges, and though you don’t want to admit he’s won this back and forth between the two of you, you’ll consider yourself a winner as long as you come away with a means of contacting him after today.

“I didn’t say that.”

He hands you back the clipboard, a corner of the sheet torn off with his number scribbled specifically for you to take. You try not to look too desperate by taking the note immediately and putting it in your pocket as you plan on doing as soon as he isn’t watching you.

“The next time I see you, I hope we won’t be in an emergency room.” The suggestion there will be a next time makes giddiness rise in your chest as if you’re a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Don’t count your luck, James.” You tease, having spied his true first name on his patient form. “I haven’t called yet.” You try to sound calm, even though you can feel your heartbeat quickening the longer those captivating blue eyes regard your every move.

“I have a feeling you will, even if it is just to tell me Sasha’s pulled through alright,” Bucky pauses, slowly leaning in so you have a perfect view of his exquisite eyes, and his dilated pupils, as he lowers his voice. “Or for a rain check on that on-call room rendezvous.” He calls your bluff before flashing what you’re now sure is his signature smirk, leaving you with a fluttering heart and butterflies in your stomach.

As you watch Bucky walk out the exit of the ER, turning to shoot you a wink before the door closes behind him, you know three things for certain: firstly, you’ll definitely call him tomorrow, secondly, this man is going to utterly ruin you, and finally, you’re going to let him.

Part 2 > >

Be added to the series taglist here

[buckets-and-trees]

Perfectionists

Characters/Pairings: Bucky x Female!Reader Word Count: 2.2k Summary: SHIELD Games is behind one of the best MMORPGs on the market. SHIELD stays on top because of the super employees they have across the board from the tech innovation department, to the story writers, to their game engineers - including one Bucky Barnes. It's his perfection that has pushed him into this position at an elite place in the industry, period. But one game tester always seems to find the most frustrating things to send back to him.

Content/Concept Warnings: Gamer AU; strong language; explicit smut: oral - male receiving, mild dacryphilia, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, voyerism, masturbation

Notes: TRIPLE THREAT SUBMISSION for @buckybarnesevents WEEK THREE of Hot Bucky Summer: "Where do you want me?", my fifth square of @buckybarnesbingo B5: "Playing Games," and my third square for Connect4 Alternate June-iverse: C1 "Gamer."

Gamer divider graphic by @sgt-seabass!

Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Bucky looked up as he heard Steve’s telltale footsteps – not the normal ones – the trepidatious ones.

“No,” he said, tone stone cold.

Steve stopped a few steps away and sighed, putting his hands on his hips.

“How long is the list?”

“Buck.”

Bucky shook his head and pushed away from his desk. “You know what? No. I don’t even want to see it.”

He stormed out of the engineering and design lab, and Steve dropped his head back to look at the ceiling.

Sam chuckled. “I told you, man, you should wait until he’s out of the room to bring in new lists of purgatory for perfection.”

“He never takes a break. None of you take breaks,” Steve said.

“'Attitude reflects leadership, Captain.'"

"Don't quote Remember the Titans at me."

“Barnes just needs to fuck her.”

Steve’s head snapped over to Nat. “You know what, Romanoff?”

“She’s right,” Joaquin added without looking up from his screen, but a smirk on his face none the less. “His blood has been boiling for her for months, it’s about time he stops ignoring that.”

“Shit, Barnes!” you yelped, clutching your heart with one hand and an energy drink in the other. “Anyone ever tell you not to lurk in the dark?”

“I’m not lurking,” he groused.

“What else do you call lying in wait to confront someone? Especially in the dark? Alone? Leaning up against the wall, no less.”

You knew you were far from the only person in the building, but this late at night, you were the only tester still around and usually had this wing of the offices to yourself. This was a side gig for you, you only did it because you loved the game and loved getting to preview things before it was even sent to the beta test group of users, but that meant you usually only crossed paths with the handful of other official tester employees for SHIELD Games like ships passing in the night who basically clocked normal business hours.

“I don’t see you turning on any lights,” he said as you returned to your preferred spot on the couch.

“I prefer to play by glow of television,” you responded with a dramatic tone.

If Bucky rolled his eyes, you didn’t see it. “It’s how I’d be playing at home, keeps me focused so I can help you do your job.”

Which is why he was here confronting you, as you had so aptly noted. “I’m damn good at what I do.”

“And the only reason you hate my lists is because you’re already a god damn perfectionist so you can’t stand when I point out the flaws you missed or suggestions to make your work even better. But that’s why Maria hired me. Your community manager knew the user feedback I was giving when you launched the game was excellent.”

Bucky scoffed and shook his head, crossing his arms.

“Your game is only perfect after they put it in front of my face, Barnes.”

“Shut up.”

It was your turn to scoff. “Make me,” you said and took a swig of your energy drink.

Bucky pushed off the wall and in three swift, silent steps was in front of you. With your head tilted back as you drank, you only saw him when he leaned forward, looming over you. You spluttered a little, and he smirked.

“You won’t be able to talk with this in front of your face,” he said, opened the front of his jeans, and pushed the denim and his boxers down his thighs in one go.

You would have roasted him for saying something so cliché in any other circumstance. But your brain was short-circuiting, and you were trying to rapidly re-establish the connections.

His right hand took the can out of your grasp and set it on the side table next to the couch, and his left hand cradled your chin, his thumb pressing on your bottom lip.

You looked up at him. Your heart was racing, and your pussy was thrumming. You were not certain this was real. He’d been the quiet one, a bit surly, but you had been surprised enough he’d come to confront you about the feedback in the first place and never would have put a penny on the odds of something like this happening with the gorgeous game designer you’d harbored a bit of a crush on but decided after the first week wouldn’t come to anything.

This was an unexpected side quest.

You nodded.

He pushed the tip to the edge of your lips, your tongue slipped out to circle the head. In one swift motion he gripped the back of your head and thrust his cock into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, and your hands flew up to hold onto his hips.

He used your mouth with abandon, and the hold of your hands on his hips was firm, encouraging. When you choked on his thick member, he slowed for a moment, then you squeezed his hip, and he speed up to his brutal pace again. This happened twice more, you having taken him deeper in your throat each time. Tears streamed down your face now, and he groaned when he looked down at you.

“You look so god damn beautiful,” he couldn’t help saying.

You whimpered, and he swept a thumb over your cheek, wiping away the tears, then brought them to his mouth.

He could feel the build of his climax at the root of him, and pulled out of your mouth abruptly, knowing he was too close to finishing and not ready for this to come to an end yet.

You fell forward, but he was instantly kneeling in front of you, ready to catch your lips with his. The kiss was hungry, and your mouth full of the taste of him made him groan again. Your hands tangled in his hair, slotting in despite being pulled back in a low bun. His hands had returned to hold your head as commandingly as they had when he was fucking your throat – one in your hair, one along your jaw.

When you were absolutely breathless, you finally pulled away.

Foreheads planted against each other, breaths still mingling, you licked your lips.

“Why don’t I show you what these hands can do?” he asked, one hand falling to your hip, rubbing his thumb down the crease of your thigh toward your core.

“Don’t tease.”

“Oh, no,” he agreed. Then with both hands, he pulled your hips to the edge of the cushion, hooked his fingers into the top of your pants, and peeled them down along with your panties. You pushed up to raise your hips so he could remove them completely, but your efforts were hardly needed as he used one hand to push you up, and the small show of unexpected strength made your insides squirm. He was built – you had seen it – but you hadn’t experienced the reality of it.

Bucky didn’t leave you a second to think about it any further as his fingers slid up and down your wet slit, he spread your outer folds and stroked your soft inner folds, and you moaned. Your eyes slipped shut, but you felt him watching your face. He was watching for how you reacted to each of his ministrations. He pinched your clit, and you yelped.

Your eyes flew open, and you saw his were filled with a mischievous glint. “Just testing all the possibilities,” he said.

You hit his shoulder. “I said no teasing!”

“You always want the experience to have more unexpected elements for the user to play with.”

“Bucky!” You did not want to hear one of your recent lines of feedback recited back to taunt you.

Except you did.

He was playing this game so well.

He slipped two fingers from that large, warm hand of his inside your cunt and began to pump. Your eyes melted closed again, and seemingly satisfied with his study, you felt Bucky claim your lips for more kisses while he pulled you closer and closer to an orgasm. It built steadily, his thumb at your clit, fingers in your channel, but when he curled those fingers and found the spongy spot against your pubic bone, it hit you instantly, and you cried out his name. He pulled your head into the crook of his neck while his other hand slowed in your cunt but helped prolong riding out the waves of your pleasure.

“Satisfactory experience?” he asked once your breathing started to return to normal.

You laughed against his shoulder, then pulled back to look at him. You pressed a kiss to his jaw, and he smiled.

“You know, I wasn’t afraid to poke the bear because you’re brilliant, I knew you could take it. You want to be the best, and I help give you that.” You reached down and took his still hard, leaking cock in your soft hands, and Bucky’s breath hitched. “Now, do you want to let me take you? I’m aching for you to fill me up.”

He groaned. “You can’t say shit like that.”

You nipped at his bottom lip and smirked. “Yes, I can. This company values my direct and honest feedback.”

He huffed a laugh.

“Where do you want me?”

Bucky quickly shoved his jeans all the way down his legs and settled down next to you on the couch, legs spreading wide. “In my lap.”

“Sounds just about right,” you said, straddling him.

His eager hands pulled your slick cunt flush against his groin, and you both moaned. You planted your hands on his broad shoulders, and rocked your hips just a little bit. Even that short back and forth of friction, his cock stroking your engorged clit, had your head falling back. Bucky pressed his lips to the column of your throat, not wasting an opportunity so inviting in the moment. You sighed and held his head to your neck where he continued to explore and mark you with slow, hot kisses, finding the places that made you shiver.

While you were lost in those sensations, Bucky reached down and lined his cock up with your slit, but that brought you back to the thrumming need to be filled by him, and you sunk down while he thrust up into you. He was thick, and he filled you more than you were used to, but not to a point of pain -far, far from it.

“Feel so good inside me,” you keened.

“No feedback?”

“Just fuck me until I can’t breathe, Buck.”

“With pleasure,” he growled.

After passing through two intense first levels of play, climbing to the final peak did not take long. One of his hands remained anchored at your hip to control the punishing but desired pace of thrusts, but his other steadily slid underneath your shirt and up your spine in a delicate way in contrast to everything else happening in the moment, including your lips returning to his in another kiss designed to devour.

Bucky felt you hit that crest of the climax, your muscles seizing in a moment of bliss, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. As you came down, he maneuvered you both to lay your back on the couch while he did just as you asked and continued to thrust into you hard, you boneless but in a blissful haze, unconcerned with trivial things like breathing, while he pursued his own pleasure. Then all at once he groaned and began to spill his hot seed inside of you, pausing for a second with the first ropes of cum, but then continued with deep, slow thrusts until he was completely spent.

It was a snug shuffling, but the two of you managed to get so you were both laying on your sides on the couch, your back up against the cushioned backboard, Bucky’s back to the glow of the giant television screen so all his muscled angles were sillhouted for you to admire in the afterglow. His legs were bunched up – possibly uncomfortably – and you tangled yours with his. You pushed some hair that had escaped from its knot at the back of his head off of his face, and he grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to your palm.

“I think we’ll need to continue testing this,” you whispered against his lips.

You felt them curve into a smile before he said, “Thorough testing, absolutely. Need to explore all potential scenarios.”

“I’m glad you’ll be more amenable now to my feedback.”

“Oh, I never said that.”

You poked him in the ribs.

“Come on, you love the complex storylines. You don’t want me easily conquered.” And before you could protest, and claimed your lips again, this time in a long, slow kiss, no intention of leaving any time soon.

Too caught up with each other, neither of you heard the approaching footsteps, the gasp on discovering you, the moans they bit back when they gave over to touching themselves there in the dark, watching you, or their nearly silent retreat.

READ THEIR FOLLOW UP IN TEST PLAY

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[buckyismybicycle]

I don't know how terrible this quality will be on Tumblr, but the higher resolution/original can be found on AO3!

Title: swim for the music that saves you Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers Tags: ShrinkyClinks, Social Media AU, WIP/teaser Summary: It all started when he sent a video singing Happy Birthday to his sister, not knowing that she would post it on her social media.

Now, JBuckyBarnes has millions of followers all hearing his story, following his recovery, listening to him sing. Little does he know, he's going to change the life of one follower in particular.

Steve Rogers, chronically ill and spending most of his days inside, has to live vicariously through others. He longs for adventure, trying new things, feeling the sun on his face. A/N: This fic has been sitting in my drafts for some time now... Thanks to @buckybarnesevents: Alternate June-iverse giving me a little kick, I've decided to post an excerpt/the beginning and the rest of it will come in due course.

“Hiya folks… Well, it was, uh.” The brunette on screen pauses and then smiles sadly. “Alright, you know I can’t lie to you. I wanna say it was fine and dandy, but it was honestly rough. That’s why this video’s a bit late, sorry ‘bout that, by the way. It took longer than I thought it would to edit so I honestly kind of gave up.”

He lays his head in a propped up hand, resting against his piano. 

“So, I got home Sunday afternoon and crashed. I don’t even remember getting into bed. Didn’t sleep through the night, of course. I never do. But! That’s just me, my body’s not a fan of the meds. I was feeling crummy — you know when you’re so hungry you’re nauseous but you can’t eat ‘cause you’re nauseous? Anyway, so that for like, six hours. Finally got to sleep when the sun was risin’ but only managed about an hour or so. You lot haven’t heard Brooklyn traffic.”

Steve can’t help but smirk at that because he has, and he is in fact listening to the god-awful Brooklyn traffic outside his window. He could always move his desk away from the window, but he needs some sort of sunlight from time to time.

The YouTube video plays on his phone while he takes a break from work, stretching and wincing as his joints crack.

“So, it’s like, ten in the mornin’ and I decide I’m gonna get something to eat. Nausea won that round, unfortunately, so by three o'clock I am starving. I was cranky for the whole day, and I don’t wanna make cranky videos for you guys. So, that’s enough rambling from me. My brain’s been a little all over the place so I haven’t written anything in ages, but how about a cover of the best of the best? Thanks for sticking around! Hope you like this one.”

Steve watches as Bucky lifts the cover of his piano and stretches the fingers on his prosthetic. Today, it’s the metal titanium one, with its beautiful plate work and a small Hydra Industries logo on the forearm. 

You gotta swim… Swim for your life

Swim for the music that saves you

When you're not so sure you'll survive

You gotta swim… Swim when it hurts

The whole world is watching

You haven't come this far to fall off the earth

The currents will pull you, away from your love

Just keep your head above

I found a tidal wave begging to tear down the dawn

Memories like bullets, they fired at me from a gun

Cracking the armor, yeah

I swim for brighter days, despite of the absence of sun

Choking on salt water, I'm not giving in, I swim

You gotta swim… through nights that won't end

Swim for your families, your lovers, your sisters, and brothers and friends

Steve listens to the beautiful voice fill the empty space of his studio apartment, caught up in the soft yet powerful melody. What really hits him are the words, though. 

Bucky’s life is no secret — except maybe his real first name because there’s no parent on this planet that hates their kid that much. Steve doesn’t know exactly how Bucky had started off, but the channel was a newer discovery for Steve. 

Well, there it is. As always, thanks so much for tuning in! Hope you liked the song, and maybe I’ll see you guys next time with something original, huh? Bye!” 

[onceuponastory]

last stroke of midnight - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: When a stroke of luck and a little bit of magic allows her to attend Prince James' royal ball, Y/N soon realises that they’ve met before. Pairing: Prince!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of Y/N’s stepfamily belittling and degrading her, her parents dying, and her doubting herself. Classic Cinderella story stuff. Also, a little bit of angst bc it’s me. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: My final entry for @buckybarnesevents Into an Alternate June-iverse Connect Four event! My final square was Fairytale, and I realised I haven’t written a Cinderella inspired story before, so here we are! This can also tie into the Royalty square I had, but I’ve used that already.

Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

Slowly, Y/N makes her way down the hallway, the sound of her heels against the tiles reverberating around the room. Various elaborate portraits and other pieces of artwork stare down at her. Unsurprisingly, the royal palace is ornately decorated, ready for the hundreds of guests attending tonight. Y/N has never seen somewhere so beautifully decorated in all her life. When she reaches the end of the hallway, two heavy oak doors stand before her, the muffled sound of music and laughter from the ball seeping through. That’s how her life seems to be nowadays. On the outside, looking in. It’s still a wonder that she was invited to this ball in the first place. But Prince James ordered every maiden in the kingdom to be present, and who was she to deny a Prince’s wish?

Of course, if her stepfamily had it their way, she’d still be at home, finishing her chores. Honestly, she thought her dream of attending the ball was as ruined as the dress they tore up to force her to stay home. It was only then that Y/N learnt she had a fairy godmother of her own, who gave her a gorgeous new dress, a pumpkin carriage and a pair of glass slippers, making her look like a true princess. And now, Y/N is standing in the royal palace, surrounded by various noblemen and women, and royalty from all over the world.

And she’s never felt so out of place. She’s still waiting to wake up, for this happy dream to be over in the blink of an eye. Even now, she can hear her stepfamily screaming in her ears, forcing her to do all the household chores, as they have done every day since her father died. Treating her like a servant, rather than a human being. For so long, Y/N thought that was what the rest of her life was destined to be. Living as Cinderella, their idea of a nickname for her, rather than Y/N. Since her stepsisters took over her bedroom, Y/N has nowhere else to sleep at night other than on the cold tiles by the dying light of the fire. And each day, she wakes up covered in soot, which inspired the name.

Their voices and laughter still echo in her mind, even now. Belittling her and labelling her a mere servant with no potential. Especially for even thinking that she could attend a royal ball, Prince’s invitation or not. But here she is, at the royal ball. Wearing a gorgeous ball gown that shimmers like the stars whenever she walks, and a pair of glass slippers that somehow perfectly fit her feet.

Finally, she has a chance to do something else, to be someone else, even if it's just for a night… and she’s terrified to take it. What if they see right through her? Realise that she doesn’t belong here, that she never did? Warily, Y/N holds her hand out, her fingers tracing along the ornate, carved detailing on the door. But she’s made it this far. Surely that must mean something.

Suddenly, the doors burst open, and Y/N gasps. “I apologise, I wasn’t-” Apologising for everything is simply second nature to her now. At least, it is when you live with people like her stepmother and stepsisters.

“Ma’am.” The guard bows to her, gesturing for her to enter the ballroom. She steps back for a moment, taking a breath for courage as her heart pounds through her chest. Yet, her feet start moving without a second thought, leading her into the ballroom. She glides through the room, past everyone’s watchful eyes. Y/N can hear them whispering, wondering who she is, and she has to tune them out before she becomes too panicked and flees.

Until suddenly, the crowd parts like the sea, and Prince James steps forward, right towards her. The second she looks into his silvery blue eyes, she recognises him right away. “Hello again.” He chuckles. “I’m thrilled to see you made it.”

Of course, Y/N could never know that she was the entire reason he suggested inviting everyone in the kingdom to this ball. Since he first saw her, Prince James couldn't get her out of his mind and yearned to see her again. And the ball his parents insisted he throw to find a suitable wife seemed like the perfect opportunity to find her again. The sparkles on her dress twinkle in the light, and he can’t stop smiling the more he looks at her. She looks beautiful.

And yet, Prince James could never know that the main reason Y/N is attending this ball is for the hopes of seeing him again. Although, she had no idea he was the Prince in question.

The two first met when Y/N was at the market with her stepsisters, being bossed around once again. Thankfully, they soon stopped bothering her and went to visit the local dressmaker, granting Y/N some precious alone time. Once they left, she took some time to walk around the stalls and take in everything on offer. Just taking some time to do nothing. As the sun warmed her skin and the cool breeze blew through her hair, Y/N finally felt at peace again. She wasn’t Cinderella, at the constant beck and call of her stepfamily. For a few blissful moments, she was Y/N again.

Soon, she found a stall selling fresh fruits and vegetables, and her stomach began to rumble. That morning, like most others, she was preoccupied completing the other chores and making sure her stepfamily were fed. And that meant she hadn’t thought about feeding herself. All the food on offer looked so enticing, and she just couldn’t resist. She rifled around in her pockets to find the few coins that she had managed to hide away, hoping it would be enough for something to eat. As she did so, a voice cut in.

“No, please. Allow me.” She had turned to see a face with a pair of gorgeous silvery blue eyes smiling back at her. Before she could protest, he paid for some apples and handed them to her.

“T-Thank you, sir.” She smiled, gazing over at him. It had been so long since someone treated her with kindness that Y/N swore she could’ve broken down into tears right then.

“Please, don’t worry about it. I couldn’t leave a lady like yourself in distress.” Y/N giggled at that, her cheeks burning slightly. As they started walking together, Y/N glanced over at the kind stranger, her gaze tracing over every inch of his face. As she did, a feeling of warmth settled in her stomach. Of course, a large part of that was because of his kind gesture, but Y/N found herself attracted to him from that very moment. With the way his eyes sparkled whenever he laughed, and the way he smiled at her… falling in love with him was very easy to do.

They spoke for a while, as close as friends, despite only meeting a few minutes ago. “Forgive me if this sounds rude, sir, but I haven’t seen you at the market before.” The man laughed, adjusting the hood of his cloak.

“Is it that obvious?”

“A little.”

“Well, I thought it would be a pleasant change from my normal life. Getting out in the fresh air, meeting new people.” He explained. “And….” He looked over at her, smiling softly. “I’m glad I came.” Her cheeks burned, and her heart felt like it was doing backflips in her chest.

“I’m glad you did too.” She smiled. But before they could talk for much longer, the voices of her stepsisters filled the air, calling her and pulling her out of her brief moment of happiness. Sighing, her body slumped in disappointment. The handsome stranger raised a brow, concerned by her sudden change in emotion.

“Is everything alright?” He had asked, instinctively placing a reassuring hand on her forearm. For a moment, she considered telling him the truth about her life. But as her stepsisters got even louder, she realised she couldn’t possibly drag him into this, or let him hear the things they say about her. It’s bad enough that she gets to hear it day in, day out.

“I’m sorry. I better go.” She sighed. When she saw the man’s face fall, she regretted her choice even more. But she didn’t have a choice. “Hopefully, I’ll see you again, sir. Thank you again for the apples.”

And here he is once more, standing in front of her in all his royal finery, looking like a completely different person. He’s still just as handsome as he was that day, his eyes still sparkling. And of course, she’s sure that she looks a lot more different than she did that day, too.

“You’re a Prince?” She gasps. “The Prince?” Embarrassment flows through her veins, and her heartbeat rises. How could she have been so stupid, so naïve to not realise that she was speaking to the Crown Prince? The bitter venom of her stepmother’s words flows through her veins once more.

“You foolish child! To think the Prince would even want you, a servant girl, at his ball-”

“It’s quite alright. Please, do not worry.” He reassures her, placing a soft hand on her forearm and pulling her out of her spiralling thoughts. Just like he did that day at the market. As he does so, Y/N feels herself beginning to calm down once more. And a familiar warm feeling settles in her stomach. “I’m sorry. I should have been honest.”

Even after the complete bombshell that's just been dumped on her, she is glad to be reunited with him, too. She and Prince James stare into each other's eyes for a little while longer, each feeling their hearts beat faster and faster. For a moment, the crowds fade away, leaving just the two of them together. Despite all her anxieties from earlier that night, Y/N feels so at ease around the Prince. For the first time in a long while, she even finds herself smiling. It isn’t until the music starts playing again that they remember where they are. And the crowd is still watching them. Clearing his throat, he stands up straighter. “May I have this dance?” And once more, Y/N’s feet move forward without even thinking about it.

“Of course.” Nodding, she slips her hand into his, whilst he rests his on the small of her back. As his fingers brush along her spine, she gasps. Being in his arms feels so right, so comfortable. Every time his touch brushes against her, it feels like a spark of electricity throughout her entire body. She’s never felt so alive.

Despite how long it’s been since Y/N danced, being with Prince James makes her feel so at ease that she easily matches his steps. As they dance together, moving gracefully throughout the room, Prince James twirls her under his arms, spinning her around the room. Y/N honestly feels like she’s floating. For a moment, she forgets all her worries, and it’s as if she and the Prince are the only people in the room once more. In fact, it feels like they’re the only people in the universe right now. The fact that her stepmother and stepsisters are here, and are no doubt watching her with the Prince doesn’t even cross her mind. She could stay here for the rest of her life, in his arms.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After spending most of the night dancing together, Prince James soon invites Y/N out into the palace gardens for some peace, and to relax after dancing for so long. The cool night air hits her skin, and Y/N takes a breath. All thoughts of the time limit on her night, and her fairy godmother’s warnings seem to have slipped her mind.

“I must say, you are a wonderful dancer.” Y/N chuckles.

“Thank you very much, Prince James. Although, I did have wonderful company.” Prince James grins, blushing furiously.

“Please allow me to introduce myself. Properly, this time. My full, official name is Prince James Buchanan Barnes. Personally, I think it’s too fancy of a name, so my close friends and family call me Bucky.” Immediately, she drops into a curtsey. “Please, don’t feel the need to do that. It’s alright.” He chuckles. She’s still amazed by his refusal to treat her like she’s any different to him, or a different class, like she’s been used to people doing most of her life. In fact, he looks at her like she’s the most important person in the world. And it’s making her even more smitten.

“I just can’t believe I didn’t realise you were a Prince when we first met, Your Highness.”

“Please, call me Bucky.” He smiles. Y/N chuckles, and her cheeks burn even more. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth when we first met. The truth is, I enjoy going out into the kingdom and meeting the people. It’s surprising how easy it is to be undetected when you wear a cloak.” He laughs. Oh, she knows that very well. “And besides, I’m sure you understand. Wanting to get away from it all.” His words confuse her for a moment… until the penny drops.

He thinks she’s the same as him. A royal, disguising herself in order to escape her life. Of course, she looks the part right now, but it’s all fake, just pretend for the night. Her head swirls, her smile dropping. Is that why he wanted to speak to her alone? Because he thought she was something different, something special? If he knew the truth, who she really was, he’d never want to see her again. Embarrassment rushes through her, chilling her veins as her stomach churns.

“Is something the matter? Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No. I’m alright.” She lies. Her mind screams at her to tell him the truth, that compared to him, she’s a nobody, just a simple servant girl. He’s been so compassionate towards her already tonight, surely he’d understand. But she can’t bring herself to tell him. This night has been so wonderful already, and she can’t ruin it now. She just wants one good night with the man she’s falling in love with. At least after tonight, she’ll never see him again. He won’t know anything else about her.

And that hurts deep in her soul, more than anything in the world. The universe seems to be set on constantly taking away every ounce of happiness in her life. First it took her parents, and then her freedom. And now, it’s taking Prince Bucky. But like she said, this is how it has to be. She couldn’t bear him seeing the truth, or seeing him letting her go.

“These gardens really are beautiful.” She says, hoping to steer the conversation away from anything to do with her.

“Well, that’s my mother’s pride and joy.” He chuckles.

“My mother loved flowers too.” She nods, thinking back to the flowers that used to adorn their garden, vibrant hues of pinks and purples. The bees and butterflies that filled the air, flying past as Y/N played with her parents. Life was so much simpler back then, so happy. She’d give anything to return to that time, when she had no worries or stepfamily. Although, being with Bucky is making her feel just as happy as she did back then.

“Well, she must have been a wonderful woman then.” 

“She was. She really was.” 

“And you’re right, they are beautiful. In fact… there’s a lot of beautiful things here tonight.” He smiles, and Y/N’s cheeks burn even deeper this time.

“Thank you.” She murmurs, a small smile tugging at her lips. “This has truly been such a wonderful night. And I never want it to end.”

“Then stay with me. Just a little longer” Bucky smiles, stepping closer. Y/N gasps, shaking her head in disbelief.

“I wish I could, but I can’t.” When he sees the tears shining in her eyes, Bucky’s brow furrows, noticing how panicked the woman is becoming. He sighs, not meaning to come across as so forceful, or to scare her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t. Not at all. You’ve been nothing but wonderfully kind to me all night.” She sighs. “It’s just… a lot to explain, Your Highness.” When he hears her call him by his official title again, it registers a feeling deep within in his gut. At the market, when her face fell as soon as she heard people calling for her, he wondered what was wrong. And now, seeing her so distressed, things are starting to make sense. Whoever this woman is, she seems to be hiding from someone. Or something.

“If anything is wrong, I can help you with whatever it is you need.” Y/N chuckles, sniffling slightly.

“I wish you could.” She’s worried enough about the possibility of her stepmother finding out she went to the ball in the first place, let alone her knowing she spent the whole night with the Prince. But if she did, Y/N would take full blame for it. It would break her heart if Bucky was hurt by her actions. Y/N steps closer to him, gently taking his hands. “But the fact you even offered means more to me than you could ever know.” Bucky looks into her eyes once more, gently cupping her cheek. Even though he only met this woman recently, he already feels like he knows her better than anyone else in the entire kingdom, even his closest advisors. He’s falling more and more in love with her with every waking moment. And he wants to make sure she’s alright. He has to.

Suddenly, a sound pierces through the air. The sound of clock chimes. Immediately, Y/N’s blood runs cold.

“What time is it?”

“It’s midnight.” Everything hits her all at once, like a bucket of cold water has been dumped over her, chilling every part of her. Her fairy godmother’s warnings ring out in her mind once more.

“At the last stroke of midnight, everything will be as it once was.”

“I’m so sorry, but I have to go. Thank you for a lovely evening!” She gasps, breaking free from Bucky’s grasp and rushing back towards the palace, to her carriage before the chimes finish. As she runs through the gardens, dodging people left and right, she can hear Bucky calling after her, trying to get her to stop. And every fibre of her being wants to turn back and tell him the truth. She knows he could protect her if she needed, that he would in a heartbeat.

But she can’t take that risk.

When she reaches the steps leading up towards the palace, Y/N runs down them, adrenaline rushing through her veins. In her haste, she can feel her shoes slipping off, but she has no time to stop them. When the first slipper falls off, Y/N doesn’t go back for it, too worried about Bucky seeing the truth to care about a shoe of all things. She slips the other one off, clasping it in her hands as she finishes her descent of the stairs and climbs back into her carriage.

As it sets off, whisking her back to her ordinary life, Y/N glances out of the window. Bucky stands on the stairs, watching her go. And Y/N feels her stomach twisting, and regret fills her veins.

“I’m sorry Bucky.” She whispers.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The carriage only makes it a few miles away from the palace before collapsing completely, turned back into a pumpkin. And so, Y/N begins the long walk home, still clutching her remaining glass slipper. The waltz she and Bucky danced to replays in her head, and she hums along to the tune, moving through the steps in her head.

“It was wonderful.” She sighs to herself. “Better than I could’ve ever dreamt it.”

When she’s only a few yards away from home, the sound of hooves approaches, and Y/N ducks out of the way behind a wall. Peeking out, she glimpses them as they pass. Almost immediately, she notices the royal crest on the saddle. The feeling of hope builds in her gut once more, and she smiles. Bucky’s looking for her. He wants to find her again.

But just as soon as the hope rises, her anxieties sink in once more.

He’s not looking for her, some poor orphaned servant girl with no dowry to her name. He’s looking for the girl he thought she was. The princess, the wonderful dance partner. The girl who doesn’t exist. Sighing sadly, Y/N glances down at her remaining glass slipper, still glinting in the moonlight. A permanent reminder of the wonderful night she had…and what she lost.

But like she said, it’s better this way.

Isn’t it?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Your Highness.” The Captain of the Royal Guard pants, rushing into the room. “We looked everywhere, but there’s no sign of the mystery maiden. It appears she’s disappeared out of sight.”

Bucky sighs, nodding. “Thank you for trying, Captain.” He murmurs. He can still see the look on her face as she ran, the fear that something would happen if she didn’t leave immediately. It still makes his heart sink, even now. Nervously, he begins to tap his foot. Something is wrong with this woman, something in her life must be causing her great pain. He wants to find her again and to help her more than anything. The slipper sits atop his desk, sparkling in the candlelight. He picks it up once more, his fingers tracing around the heel. “A shoe made of glass.” He chuckles. “What a wonderfully strange woman.”

“Your Highness?” The Captain asks.

“Tomorrow morning, we commence a kingdom wide search for the maiden who fits this glass slipper.” He states. “No stone will be left unturned. Do you understand?” The Captain nods. “Good. Ready your men for the morning.” As the man departs, Bucky holds the slipper close to his chest, as if he was holding her that closely. “I will make this right.” He whispers. “I promise.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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