#i miss bucky. i had a dream we got him back again

[florida3exclamationpoints]

.

[caws5749]

Useless in A Good Way

A/N: oh, another fic where she writes a pregnant reader… YES IM SORRY but I’ve dreamt of being pregnant since I was little and it’s my biggest dream so here we go again 😭I’m working on requests as well but this just popped into my head. I felt very... out of practice with the last few pieces but writing this... I feel good again.

You laughed lightly, shaking your head at some inappropriate joke Tony made after Clint won the round of whatever card game they were playing. Natasha’s hand rested on your thigh, squeezing accidentally while she laughed. The music played in the background, barely heard over the nearly hundred voices that filled the main room of the compound for the latest party Tony had deemed necessary.

You turned your head towards your wife to admire her for a moment. Nat caught your eye, sending you an admiring smile that she reserved only for you.

“You look radiant,” she murmured, leaning in closer to press a chaste kiss to your lips. You blushed, loving the red that still tainted your cheeks after four years of marriage.

"You look like home," you replied quietly, just barely loud enough for her- and Steve (curse that super soldier's hearing)- to hear.

She really did look like home. Her dress was long sleeve and snug, ending just below her knees and made of the softest cashmere. It was cozy and warm and loving, just like her, just like home.

The smile she let show threatened to overtake her lips, so she ducked her head as she always did. Perhaps even more so, considering the amount of alcohol she'd ingested.

You were the only one not drinking, which probably had something to do with the fact that you were seven months pregnant... with twins. You felt like you could hardly move and you the thought of two more months made you simultaneously groan and smile. Not to mention, you hadn't used your powers in a few months; the pregnancy hormones had affected your abilities in a questionable way, and the last time you had tried to let the familiar cool water flow from your hands, nothing had happened. It simply seemed that they had.. petered out. And you were warned by Dr. Cho to avoid trying to use them too much anyway.

"I should probably go check on the intelligence report," you said, sighing. Given that you were the only completely sober being present, it was your task to check on the latest intelligence report currently running after some curious and daunting messages of late.

Natasha nearly pouted, before standing and gripping your forearms with the gentle strength that only your wife could perfect. You groaned, all of your muscles giving maximum effort to stand from a seated position, your large abdomen giving you little room to move.

"God, I have two more months of that," you muttered.

"And it's only going to get harder," Clint chimed in, chuckling sympathetically. You sent him a mock glare.

"I'll go with you," Nat stated, a hand falling to your back. She hardly let you go anywhere alone, not that you minded. Living in the Avengers compound was one of the safest places there was, but it also was a target.

"Sit, I'll go," Steve said, "I've got to check on Bucky anyway."

"Finally, Natasha, it is your turn to lose so one money," Tony grinned, shuffling the deck of cards. Your wife retook her seat, rolling her eyes.

Steve met you next to the couch, offering an arm, which you took gladly. The team had been nothing but supportive after finding out about the pregnancy. They were all in agreement regarding your safety and protection. It was automatic at this point for them to watch over you, something that warmed your heart daily.

"How is Bucky?" you questioned.

"He misses being able to walk," Steve chuckled. "That's what he gets for fighting on a torn knee."

"It's been a week since surgery, right?"

He nodded. "And another week before he'll be able to get up and walk on it."

You hummed sympathetically. It was what all of you hated the most- feeling useless, being unable to be an Avenger. You had grown quite accustomed to the feeling.

Your friend, reached out with his other hand to open the door for you, following you inside the intelligence room, curious what the report would say too.

You studied the screen and briefly leafed through some papers, stopping at another odd message printed. Your brow furrowed.

"What is it?" Steve asked.

"It's a date. Today," you answered, looking up to read his expression.

You'd seen the confusion and slight nervousness in his face before glass shattered in the not-so-far distance. Steve looked at you, panicked.

"We need to get you to the bunker."

"We don't even know what's-"

"It doesn't matter," he interrupted. Shouting then could be heard, growing closer in a split second. "Now."

You moved as quickly as you could, exiting only after Steve cleared the hallway. The two of you moved with expertise, albeit a bit slower than normal, towards the stairs. He helped you down the stairs, hurrying you along without rushing you. When you turned down the hallway that held the bunker, several beings masked in dark leather suits and glowing face shields awaited you.

"Stay back," Steve commanded, not even waiting for a response before running toward them at full speed. He pulled a knife from his pocket and set to work. You felt utterly useless, powerless, as you watched them swarm him. A few tried to sneak past to you, but he wouldn't let them come even close. You stood, anxious, barely breathing. Two swift hits to the stomach and knees had Steve knocked on the ground, stumbling for his footing. On instinct, you stepped forward, hands out in front of you.

You had no thoughts as you summoned the familiar tingle of your powers, forgetting completely that they may not even work for you. When coolness flowed through your fingertips, you only then realized you hadn't been able to do that for a while, and you probably shouldn't be doing it now.

But it didn't matter, there were enemies at hand, and you were an Avenger.

So you let a wave hit the men with everything you had. It was nowhere what you had attempted to do, but it worked nonetheless. It gave Steve the opportunity he needed to jump up and take them out quickly.

He took the remaining problems out with ease and then ran back to you.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, you?"

"You shouldn't have used your powers," he said aloud, more a fact and realization at what you had done rather than a scolding.

"I know."

"Bunker," he stated, gently pushing you towards the door. "Stay inside until you get the 'all clear."

You nodded, finding the hidden keypad and locking yourself inside.

++++++

When Steve returned back up to the party, he found several similar bodies strewn about and a few slightly out of breath Avengers.

"Y/N?" Natasha demanded.

"In the bunker, safe and unharmed."

She nodded, a thanks to her good friend.

"Anybody know what the hell is going on?" Clint asked, setting his bow and arrow down.

"Just today's date written down in a message, we just saw it in the report but couldn't piece anything together," Steve answered.

Natasha heard that and knew there was nothing to answer for now, so she started towards the hallway.

"Nat, she used her powers."

Your wife turned on her heel at that, whipping in the soldier's direction faster than lightning.

"Call Cho," was all she said.

++++++

"Natasha is entering," JARVIS announced, causing you to sit upright, eyes glued to the door.

"Oh, thank god," your wife muttered, seeing you sitting unscathed. "Are you alright?" She rushed over to you, kneeling in front of you, eyes scanning your form, hand coming to rest against your cheek after she found nothing.

"I'm fine. Are you?" You turned to plant a kiss to her palm.

"Fine. You used your powers."

"Well, somewhat. They didn't work exactly right," you responded, frowning.

"What happened?"

You told her how you had saved Steve, well only by giving him a slight edge.

"What's wrong?" Natasha asked gently, picking up on your rather displeased tone.

"I feel useless," you whispered, tears pooling in your eyes as you shifted your gaze downward. Gentle fingers tugged your chin upwards until you were forced to meet those familiar emerald eyes.

"You are growing two human beings. That is not useless. I know you aren't avenging right now, but you did just save Steve, even if your powers were limited. Just because you can't do what you normally used to doesn't mean you aren't doing other things that aren't just as amazing, baby."

The corners of your lips twitched upwards, your mood already lifting.

"That's my girl. Now let's go upstairs, Cho is going to check you out."

"Natasha, I'm-"

"I don't care if you're fine," she tutted. "I'm not taking any chances."

With that, she kissed you softly and helped you upright.

++++++

BONUS

"And you know what she said?" Steve asked, a hand placed over his heart as he sat next to Bucky in bed. "You look like home." He sighed softly, as he thought of his two friends who were so beyond perfect for one another.

"How is that supposed to make my knee better?"

[grugruel]

Let the Light in

Pairing: priest!Bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: On the day of your wedding, you excpect to love your husband, not fall for the priest.

You'd never been a believer. But when your marrige spiraled into darkness, you had to find light elsewere. So you asked the Lord for help, and He answered.

Ironically enough, He gave you a most devout follower, the priest.

Word count: ca 4k

Warnings: fluff, angst, blasphemy, soft!priest!bucky, pinv sex, oral sex (f receiving), passionate sex, fingering, thigh-riding, adultry, praise (m receiving), priest kink.

AN: its been proof read! I dont understand how yall read it before the fact, my misspellings were crazy. I also edited it a bit, gave yall about 200-300 words more.

I stod silently on the sidewalk, with my back to the road. Numbly observing the scene in front of me as I waited. Cars were rushing past behind me, slowing as they noticed the crowd.

The chilly autumn winds blew my coat off of my stocking clad legs, revealing them to the elements. I couldnt be bothered to care.

The cold did not affect me anymore, I was strung out on feeling.

I watched my husband struggle, and the guests scramble to help him. They got him on his feet, and his best man slung an arm around him to keep him from falling again. My eyes brimmed with tears, ready to fall any second now.

I felt a hand touch the small of my back in silent support. A palm pressed firmly into the arch below, fingertips curling, rouching the fabric of my dress. I closed my eyes and all my troubles were wisked away for but a second, until I heard the guests approach and the hand left me. I opened my eyes to a grim sight.

We met in college, my husband and I. He'd been lovely and attentive when we first met, he made me fall in love with him. He proposed to me on our graduation, and i'd never been happier.

Unfortunately though, it didnt last that long.

As we were fresh out of school, both with stellar scores and brand new degrees. We got our dream jobs, and bought ourselves our dream home.

Everything was perfect, until he got fired. Why? He wouldnt tell me, he left me in the dark, refusing to tell me himself.

Naturally, I grew suspicious.

So I called his former boss, who told me that they'd caught him with his secretary bent over his desk. They said he'd gotten a reputation within his business and would be experiencing difficulties in finding a new job for himself. My crying increased gradually through out the call, this was the first time hed let me down after all. His boss was very apologetic and so was my fiancé.

He found me sat on the floor with phone in hand, a complete mess of tears and running mascara. Immedietly showing worry, 'Whats going on, whats happened?' He asked, thinking somebody died. But when I glared at him, repaying his silence with my own, he understood. He stuttered an apology, his words a flurry of explanations and sorrys, sounding truly regretful.

So I forgave him, silly me.

With time, bitterness manifested within him. Resentment over the fact that I was well liked and did good work at my own job. It led him down a pityfull path, finding solace in alcohol, resentment turning into lousey drunkeness. I should've left him, but chose to forgive him. I loved him, despite all.

Eventually he found a new job, nowehere near the prestige of his old one. But it calmed his drinking.

When he sobered slightly, he apologized continously. Telling me he promised to get better and told me he wanted to have our ceremony, because I deserved it. Foolishly, I belived him. He stayed sober several weeks before the wedding, and I thought it could be a new start.

But here we are now.

I stood behind the doors of the nave, inhaling and exhaling big shaky breaths, trying to gather strength for what I was about to throw myself into.

The priest, father Barnes. The one who would be marrying us, came to me before I walked down the aisle.

'Miss.' He began, his eyes pleading as he took my hands into his, 'Its now my place, I know. But your betrothed-'

'Youre right, its not.' I cut him off, the idea of discussing my fiancés indiscretions with the priest was not appealing. 'I apologize father.' I sighed and met his eyes, 'Hes drunk isnt he?'

The priest tilted his head to the side, realising I was already well aquainted with the vice, 'Well, yes. . .' He said, sounding apologetic.

I nodded my head, deep in thought, 'Alright, lets not waste anymore time then.'

'You're still going ahead with the wedding?' He asked me, an incredulous expression shaping his face.

I looked down, studying the intricate details of my wedding dress. Id picked it myself, my favourite flowers covered it. That man of mine doesnt know my favourite in anything, nor would he notice them on my dress.

A melancholic smile covered my lips, 'You must think me foolish father.' I whispered under my breath, chuckling quietly.

He shook his head and moved one of his hands to my chin, tilting my face to meet his. The other grabbed my hands, and squeezed them, 'I think youre strong.' He told me, a reassuring smile on his lips.

'He promised me he would get better.' My voice was meak, a tear streaking my face.

'You're a good woman.' He breathed, letting go of my hands to cup my face. He leveled his head with mine, his tall stature forcing him to hunch as his eyes locked with mine, 'Too, good.' He whispered, 'And, Its not my business, thats true. . .' Another tear fell, and he gently stroked it away with his thumb, 'But he does not deserve your kindness.'

My cheeks burned hot, a blush crept up my face. I had not heard such kind words in a long time. I could not controll my crying any longer, unstoppable tears came rolling down my cheeks, 'I have to believe him, father, I have to try.' I told him quietly, hating how desperate my voice sounded.

'I love him.'

He cringed at the words, furrowing his brows 'I admire your devotion.' He said gently, 'Do you want more time? Im sure we can wait a little longer.' He tried, but I shook my head.

'No, I dont want to keep the guests waiting.' I took a deep breath, 'Do I look ok?' I asked him.

He nodded, but pulled the cuff over his hand and dabbed my cheeks dry.

His eyes flickered over my face, studying my features, my wet eyes and rosy cheeks. He leaned in, kissed my cheek and whispered 'Angelic.' His hands fell to my bare shoulders and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

He turned around and as he was about the leave I grabbed hold of his wrist, carefully tugging him back. He faced me and I let go of him realising that perhaps it wasnt appropriate of me. 'I just-' I began, but my voice broke. He met my eyes and pulled me into his embrace, 'Thank you, father.' I whispered against his chest.

He rested his head on your shoulder and rubbed your back gently, holding onto the fabric of your dress, rubbing it between his fingers. Studying the beautiful pattern. He slid his hands up your arms, feeling a sudden urge to kiss the bare skin beneath him. He pulled back hastily, clearing his throat as he silently rebuked himself.

'I must take my place dear.' He said, stroking a piece of hair behind my ear. He gave me a last smile, then left, taking his place by the altar.

I heard the music starting and the muffled sound of the crowd standing up. I sighed, steadied my breathing, and opened the doors to the nave. Everyone turned around, looking at me. Whispers rumbled through the crowd as I began walking, their stares were making me nervous.

Through the gloom of the church, light shone through the windows at the altar. I looked at him for comfort, handsome as he was, I met his eyes and found it within them.

He could not tear his eyes from you, you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, courageous and proud, you walked down the aisle. When your eyes met his, he smiled proudly. Hoping you would find some comfort in it, and you found it.

As I approached the altar, I tore my eyes from his and looked at my fiancé. His best man holding him upright, otherwise slumping over. He smiled sloppily at me, I gave him a strained smile back.

The ceremony was over quickly, my husband stumbled through his vows and his kiss tasted of smoke and whiskey. In fact, the entirety of him was drenched in the odor.

I smiled and thanked everyone as they congratulted us, and carefully, tiptoed around the subject of my husband.

I hurried to change into my reception dress, it was all black. Black coat, dress, heels and stockings. Fitting, I thought. As this felt more like a funeral than a wedding, burrying the woman I once was.

People were drinking, laughing and dancing. The reception was doing a wonderful job of keeping everyone cheery, everyone except me. I sat silently by our table, watching my husband as he kept drinking and his men trying to calm him down. He had barely spoken a word to me, he was to drunk to stand, to drunk to have our first dance. I felt myself sinking into oblivion as my polite smiles and thank yous were running out.

But someone approched me, snapping me out of the darkness. I looked up, and the light returned.

He reached his hand out to me, 'May I have this dance?' He asked, his white collar stark against his black shirt.

'You may.' I smiled, the first genuine smile I'd given anyone since the night begun.

I laid my hand in his and he led me to the edge of the dance floor, somewhere we could be at peace. In our dark colors we went unseen, tucked away from prying eyes.

I snaked my arms around his neck and his arms circled my waist, pulling me tightly against him. A bit unorthodox perhaps. But I didnt mind and neither did he, it seemed. I leaned my head against him as we swayed to the music, basking in eachothers prescence.

He sensed that you werent interested in talking, but rather needed a shoulder to lean on. Someone to hold you up, as your ungrateful husband couldnt even do that for himself.

For several songs, we just held eachother. Until the evening began winding down and we had to depart.

'I think this was a mistake.' He whispered.

'Which part?' I asked, and he sighed.

'Dont hesitate to come to me if you need anyhting.' He said quietly, 'Please.' he pleaded. I nodded, thinking id never take him up on his offer.

Now, I stood on the street. Still feeling the priests hand on my back although he'd already taken a few secure steps back.

I watched as my husband being carried to our car, as we were headed for our honeymoon. Two weeks in rome, I wish I could truthfully say I was excited. They shoved him into the back, and once again congratulated us with cheapish smiles. I walked around the car and opened the door, about to sit down when a hand slid into mine. I looked up and my eyes met his beautiful blues once again. He assisted me into the car, lending me his strong arm for support as I sat down. His hand slid out of mine, and a note was left in my palm, reflexicely I closed my hand around it. 'Anything.' He whispered and backed away, closing the door gently.

Our car drove off as the guests were waving us of, but all I could think about was the priest disappearing in the distance.

I opened the note, written down was his number and adress along with a few intricately drawn flowers.

I smiled to myself, quickly stashing it away in my pocket, afraid my husband would see. But as I looked at him, I realised. He was dead asleep, snoring even.

I opened my hand, tracing my fingertips along my palm. Trying to recreate the feeling of his hand in mine, his gentle, yet firm touch on my skin. I sighed, feeling my tears returning.

I cried silently, afraid to wake him. The driver looked at me through his rearview mirror, I met his eyes and quickly averted my gaze, crying even harder, but I couldnt even do that in peace. God, what had I done. I leaned my head against the seat, closing my eyes. When suddenly, I felt fingers on my knee. I shut my eyes harder, begging for it to be my imagination. But it wasnt.

'My, beautiful wife.' He drawled, tracing a finger along my jaw as his hand slid up my thigh. He sat forward, leaning towrd the drivers compartment and shut the hatch.

I opened my eyes and faced him, 'Aw, crying of joy sweetheart?' He asked, he was so delusional it was scary. I nodded, and feigned a smile which he returned lazily, then leaned in to kissed me.

I closed my eyes again, canceling out the taste and smell of liqour, shutting my ears to his voice.

And when his finger reached under my dress, It no longer felt like him. My husbands face was no longer my husbands, his voice and touch was someone elses.

All of a sudden my core was aching for more.

His kisses on my skin felt like heaven, his touch like fire and when he pulled me on top of him. I opened my eyes, and was met with blue, black and white.

Weeks went by and my thoughts never left father Barnes, whenever my husband made love to me, I made love to a priest.

Eventually his drinking subdued and he started taking care of himself, but grew more distant by the day.

It did actually make my existence bareable.

But there came a day, when I got home from work early and things were not as they should. The were heels in the doorway and clothes strewn on the floor. As I followed their trail, I found my husband and his secretary at the end of them. Naked, sweaty and monaing, in our bed, in our home. I was quiet, lost for words, but they mustve noticed my presence.

Because they stopped and threw the sheets over themselves, covering up. 'Sweetheart, its not what it seems.' He managed, struggling to clme up with an excuse. God, the stumache on that man. I felt like screaming, like cursing him and his entire bloodline. But he wasnt worth it.

I turned on my heel and he scrambled out of bed, dragging the sheet with him as he followed me out of the house, apologizing prefusely.

I shut him out, rage filling me as I got in my car and drove away. I drove to the only adress that came to mind.

I walked up to his house and knocked on the door, a few moments passed and he opened.

With wide eyes he looked at me, unable to hide his surpise. 'I uhm, I-' I stammered, my own surpise catching up to me. I hadnt had time to think this through, I acted on pure instinct. 'He cheated on me.' I got the words out, finally taking a breath as I finally understood their meaning. Misery overtook my rage, and my eyes welled as I tried to explain myself. 'I apologize for barging in on you father.' I started, 'Ive been thinking about you and I-' rambling, all my thoughts and feelings poured out of me. In the doorway of this poor mans home.

He reached out to me and pulled me into a hug, backing away from the door and let it fall shut behind me. He rested his head on top of mine as one of his hands held my head against his chest, stroking my hair. The warmth of his home embracing me.

'Can I confess something father?' I asked him as I laid my arms around him, much like our dance a few weeks ago.

'Anything.' He answered, kissing the top of my head.

'Ive sinned.'

He pulled back with a confused look on his face, but didnt let go. 'Lets hear it.' He ordered patiently.

'Ive. . . Been thinking of another man.' I whispered, looking deep into his eyes. 'During actions that should only take place between husband and wife.' I told him quietly, and his face grew pale. 'Ive had an emotional affair with this man, unbeknownst to him.' My breathing turned heavy, as my gaze switched to his lips, 'But, me and this man. Were both bound by vows you see.' I said and let go of him, understanding my words as I said them, and stepped back. Suddenly regretting coming here, as I felt rejection was imminent. 'Mine are already broken, but his are not and he cannot break them. He would not.'

'You should let the man speak for himself.' He said, serious in tone. His gaze locked in on me, as he stepped closer. 'I havent been able to stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I've tried.' He whispered, laying his hands on my hips. 'Ive never seen a woman so beautiful walking down the aisle, god himself mustve blessed you.' I snaked my hands around his shoulders, burrying them in his hair. 'Im hoping he would bless us, too.' Leaning in, his lips were a ghost over mine. 'I would care for you, in a way your husband never could. He does not deserve you.' He leaned his forehead agagaist mine, 'I'd work everyday to deserve your love, your kindness, your presence.' He said quietly against my lips, planting a gentle kiss on them and pulling back slightly to give me room. But I chased his lips, returning the kiss feverishly. Grabbing a fistful of his hair as I pulled him impossibly closer. His hands roamed my back, reaching under my shirt to undo my bra. It fell to the floor and he pulled my shirt over my head in one quick motion, making me gasp.

I removed the collar of his shirt with my teeth and ripped his black shirt open, burrying my head in the crook of his neck, 'Youre not a beginner, are you father? I asked, between kisses. Breathing heavily as I latched onto his skin, sucking at the sweet spot between his neck and collarbone.

He moaned, a smirk shaping his lips, 'Saints also sin from time to time.' he breathed, his hands falling to my ass and lifted me into his arms. I chuckled, letting go of his neck and circled my legs around his hips. I pushed my bare breasts against him and he burried his face in them, in turns taking them into his mouth. 'Where?' His voice came muffled by my skin.

'Everywhere.' I answered.

I could feel his grin against my skin, as he nipped my nipple with his teeth, making me yelp. He walked us toward his bedroom, and laid me down on his bed. He stood back, studying me as he took his shirt and pants off. I unbuttoned my own pants and shimmied out of them, raising myself onto my elbows, watching him as he took me in. His eyes roamed my body, thighs, hips, stumache, breasts. He loved all of me, 'Youre perfect.' He said, lust in his eyes as he climbed on top of me. 'I need you.' He whispered.

'You'll have me.' I told him and flipped him over. Positioning him against the headboard as I stradled his thigh, grinning wickedly and leaned forward, kissing his jaw. 'But first-' I whispered against his ear, 'I want to test your self control.' He looked confused, and I began grinding my clit against his thigh, a whimper escaping me. His hands flew to my hips to help me along, but I grabbed them and led them up to the headboard. I leveled my face with his, ghosting my lips over his as I had him hold onto the board, 'No touching.' I whispered and pecked his lips. I leaned back and my grinding resumed, I grabbed his thighs for support as the heat from the friction was making me swoon. I leaned my head back, biting my lip from the pleasure and when I looked back at him, he was holding onto the board for dear life. The muscles in his arms and jaw clenching as he fought himself to stay still, his eyes were running up and down my body.

The way your hips swayed and breasts bounced, it was sucking all the restraint out of him. His hands were itching to touch you, to just feel your skin under his fingertips for a moment. It would keep him fed for the rest of his life.

I hummed, 'Im- im gonna-' I stammered, my breaths frenzied as I was closing in on my orgasm. The crazy in his eyes made me smile devilishly, I felt evil, in the best way. My hips stuttered against his thigh, my ruts becoming faster and shorter as I was approaching my release. When I looked at him, his eyes were pleading, begging for permission, but it was to late. I rushed over the edge in a second, collapsing onto him, panting hard as I was catching my breath.

'May I?' He asked, his voice strained.

I kissed his chest and answered, 'Yes, please. You did so good.' He grunted at the praise, surprising me. He grabbed my ribs and threw me under him, hurridly kissing his way down my body until he reached my thighs. Spreading them, he kissed his way up the inside until he reached my panties. Without a second thought he ripped them apart and burried his face in my cunt. Tasting me, licking my juices, sliding his tongue through my folds and kissing my clit. A string of curses fell from my lips, as he pushed a finger inside of me, carefully sliding it in and out. Then adding another, and eventually a third, he thrusted them into me, my moaning telling him he was on the right track. He curled them into my spot and I nearly screamed.

'Just like that, good job.' I breathed and he moaned against my clit. What fun. He reached into his boxers and stroked himself, the sight made me mad. And for the second time, I came tumbling over the edge. He was not far behind, coming into his own hand, drenching himself in his seed. I grabbed his arm and pulled his hand closer to me, licking a stripe of his hand. He grunted at the sight, spurring me on as I took his fingers into my mouth. Sucking him clean as he watched, furrowing his brows, he became plagued by lust.

I pulled him closer to me, meeting his lips in another kiss as he pulled off his boxers. I reached down, stroking him as I lined him up with my entrance, 'You did such a good job, father.' His head perked at the praise, like a puppy being told hes a good boy. Gratefully pecking my face, cheek, chin and jaw, below my ear and neck. He put his weight on me, we couldnt possibly get any closer to one another. 'I need you in me father.' I told him bluntly, and leveled his head with mine, sliding inside. Kissing me mean while and I moaned into his mouth, sharing my breath with him. I laid my hands on his hips, telling him to move by pulling and pushing. Helping him set a gentle but firm pace, he lowered his head to the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. 'Let me hear you father, dont hold back.' I whispered and appreciatively he grunted against my skin, moaning in my ear. It was fiendish, it was fantastic. 'Deeper, please.' I asked, pulling on his hips to drive him deeper and using the weight of his entire body he thrusted into me, in rythm with his grunts as our bodiess moved together.

'Tell me im good, please.' He begged, nuzzling his face into my neck.

I smiled, 'Youre being so good for me father.' I whispered into his hair.

'Thank you.' He whimpered, putting even more force to his thrusts as he traced my collarbone with kisses, all the way to my shoulder, repeating "Thank you." Over and over again inbetween his kisses. His thrusts were coming faster as he was closing in on his orgasm, driving me over the edge with him. 'I- im- im close.' He stuttered faintly.

'So am I, almost there father.' His pace hastened as his hand slithered between our bodies, finding my clit and circled it. 'God' I moaned, spots specking my vision as the priests thrusts became frenzied. He pinched my skin in warning, reminding me not to take the lords name in vain. Then we came together, and he collapsed on top of me.

'Im sorry for swearing, father. You bring it out of me.' I whispered.

He chuckled, 'Youre forgiven.' Throughout the night, we made love on the couch, the floor, the kitchen table and shower.

Eventually, we got back into bed. Holding eachother tightly as we drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up late the next day, there was a vase of flowers on the bedside table with a note under it, the letter "-B" was written on it.

I unfolded it and he had written me a message, "I had to go to church, but didnt want to wake you. I hope on seeing you later, please stay if you want to. Id love to come home to you. -PS, Your favourites."

I smiled happily and smelled the bouqet of tulips, a soft, warm feeling spreading throughout my body.

For a long time love had felt dark to me, it had felt cold and lonely, but now. . .

I had let the light in, he was my light.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Heartfelt Chase - Bucky

Character: agent!Bucky x female!agent

Summary: She tries to find an agent she secretly admires who went missing.

A/N: This story is inspired by the GIF. Lol. 😂

Also, it’s a fun break from the angsty political Bucky.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

You work as a data analyst at the spy agency. The only reason you’re here is because of your father. You’ve always dreamed of being a field agent like him, especially since his top pupil is none other than Bucky.

You've admired Bucky for years—secretly watching his missions from your screen, hanging onto every move he made.

You've volunteered for every one of his missions, offering to be a bystander, even joking about pretending to be a tree. But the boss always shut you down.

And every time you asked Bucky directly, he’d just say, “It eases my mind if you stay here.”

One day, everything changed. The agency lost contact with Bucky during a mission. You immediately volunteered to go after him, but the boss looked terrified and said, “No. He’s going to kill me.”

You had no idea what that meant, but when nobody made a move, you took matters into your own hands.

You tracked down his last known location and discovered the missing piece: Bucky was tailing an arms dealer who had a bioweapon.

“Damn it!” you cursed under your breath. This wasn’t supposed to be you stumbling upon a hidden bioweapon. And to make matters worse, you had no backup. You were quickly captured.

Thrown into the back of a car, you were bombarded with questions. Your head spun, but you stuck to your story. “I don’t know anything. I’m just here to find my friend.”

The guy questioning you chuckled, clearly not buying it. “Searching for a friend and finding a nuclear bomb? Quite the coincidence.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Where are we going, anyway?” You glanced at the empty road stretching out ahead of you.

“Torture room,” he said casually.

“Fantastic,” you muttered. The whole situation was spiraling out of control, and in this moment of panic, the only person you could think about was Bucky. But where was he?

Suddenly, a loud boom echoed behind you. The car jerked, the windows rattling from the explosion.

“What the hell?” your captor yelled, glancing back.

Then you heard it—the unmistakable sound of a motorcycle engine roaring toward the car. You craned your neck to look out the window, heart racing, and there he was. Bucky.

You couldn’t believe it. “Bucky!”

Still driving, Bucky shot you a quick glance, irritation flickering across his face. “Didn’t I tell you to stay?”

“If you’d sent a message, I wouldn’t be here worrying about you!” you shot back.

Bucky sighed like this was the last thing he needed. He pulled out a weapon and aimed it under the car. “Put on your seatbelt!”

Without hesitation, you braced yourself. In seconds, the car flipped into the air, crashing back down with a heavy thud. The world spun again, and everything went silent.

Moments later, Bucky pulled up beside the wreck, dismounted his bike, and yanked the door open.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice gruff but laced with concern. His eyes betrayed more than he let on.

You groaned, unbuckling yourself. “Define ‘okay.’”

Bucky shook his head, clearly holding back a sigh. “This is exactly why I don’t want you in the field.”

You glared at him, hands on your hips. “I’m perfectly capable, Bucky! I tracked you down, didn’t I?”

He crossed his arms, staring down at you, his usual calm exterior barely hiding the concern underneath. “Yeah, and look what happened. You almost got killed.”

You threw your hands up. “You could’ve been killed too! That’s why I came—no one else was going to look for you!”

His expression softened for a brief second before he glanced away. “I can take care of myself.”

“And I can’t?” You shot back, taking a step toward him.

He paused, looking like he wanted to say something but hesitated. Finally, after a long silence, he muttered, “It’s not about what you can do. It’s about what I can’t handle.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his words. “What do you mean?”

He clenched his jaw, still avoiding your gaze. “I can’t handle the idea of you getting hurt."

Your breath caught in your throat. The gruff, distant Bucky was showing a side of him you hadn’t expected. For a moment, you couldn’t find the words.

“You... care about me?” you asked softly.

You stood there, heart pounding, completely at a loss for how to respond. But before you could say anything, Bucky turned back toward his bike, his usual stoic mask slipping back into place.

“Let’s get out of here before more trouble shows up,” he said, swinging his leg over the motorcycle.

Still stunned, you climbed onto the back of the bike, wrapping your arms around him. As the engine roared to life, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that maybe—just maybe—this mission was worth all the danger.

Taglist: @thezombieprostitute, @scott-loki-barnes , @missvelvetsstuff , @mostlymarvelgirl , @kjah97 , @pattiemac1

[babyhatesreality]

Agent Jellybean

Daddy!Stucky x Little!F!Reader

Warnings: DDLG (SSC), f! reader, reader is named but name scarcely used, language, reader has anxiety, fluff.

A/N- today's story brought to you by a massive wave of anxiety.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated.

You had had the worst nightmare you could remember last night. Fortunately, you were in Daddy and Papa's bed with them already, so the second you whimpered in your sleep, Bucky had instantly awoken. He held you close, trying to help you gently wake up, but it had been so intense and terrifying that by the time you realized you were awake, you were already shaking and crying so hard you couldn't stop. Bucky and Steve spent the rest of the night soothing and calming you, but you hadn't fallen back to sleep, nor had you truly been able to shake the dread you had been feeling as a result of the dream.

Bucky had kept you in his arms all morning, knowing all too well the toll that a nightmare could take on a person. He cuddled and kissed and comforted you while Steve packed a day bag for you to come with them upstairs while they worked.

You were resting your tired head on Daddy's shoulder as the three of you got off the elevator. Fury was waiting for you, which normally would make you perk up as you loved the gruff director. But you were still too anxious and exhausted to do more than give him a little wave. He looked a bit surprised- normally you were bouncing off the walls- but quickly understood the situation when he saw the ache in his agents' eyes as they continued to touch and soothe you.

"Rough night?" Fury asked evenly, but one couldn't mistake the hint of sympathy in his words. Steve gave him a tired smile and reached out to stroke your hair as Bucky kissed your forehead.

"You could say that," Steve said quietly.

"Do you two need the day?" Fury asked immediately. But before they could answer, you did.

"No," you mumbled, popping your head up. "Daddies gotta be heroes." Your sudden burst of energy over, you slumped back down onto Bucky's shoulder. Fury's eyes met Steve's in surprise, and was met with another tired smile.

"We told her we would stay at home, but she didn't want that," he explained. And it was true- when Steve said that to you at the breakfast table, you almost had another meltdown. He was quick to retract it, and Bucky just tightened his grip on you, both of them assuring you that they wouldn't do that. You settled down after a moment, but then your feelings got even bigger.

The real reason you didn't want them missing work was that you were already feeling guilty that you had kept them up last night, that they were both so worried about you, and that you couldn't let go of the scary feelings. When Papa suggested missing work, all you could think about was the people that were going to get hurt because they weren't there, and that was what sent you over the edge again. After you settled down, you then felt guilty for being naughty and throwing a tantrum when they were only trying to help. You were a bundle of big mean feelings, anxiety, and exhaustion, so all you could do was hold on to Bucky as tight as he was holding on to you.

Of course you didn't tell Nick this- your Daddies didn't even know you were feeling guilty- but you watched for his reaction to Papa's answer. He slowly nodded once, like he was thinking. His face was lined with frustration.

"What is it?" Bucky asked.

Fury took a deep breath, sighing heavily before he answered. "We picked up another former Hydra agent last night," he answered gruffly. "Some...intense programming on this one. Barnes, I was going to ask if you can be in the interrogation room, but...it looks like your services are otherwise needed," Fury said carefully, realizing the sticky situation you were all in.

Bucky and Steve locked eyes over your head. They both knew that the best shot of saving and rehabilitating the agent was to get the Winter Soldier in there. Bucky's eyes pleaded with Steve for a solution. He couldn't let you go- he absolutely would not do it. But the idea of helping to save another person from his own personal nightmare....

In another surprise move, you picked your head back up again and reached out to Steve. "I go with Papa," you said quietly, holding your arms out. Steve instantly pulled you into his strong arms, patting your back gently as you rested your chin on his shoulders. Bucky stepped to Steve's side, smoothing your hair from your face.

"Are you sure, baby girl?" Bucky asked you gently, his blue eyes filled with worry. "I can stay with you- it's okay."

You shook your head a bit and snuggled back into Steve. "You a hero Daddy, you gotta go be a hero."

Steve leaned over and gave Bucky a gentle kiss. "It's okay Buck, I got her," he said lovingly. "Go be a hero." Bucky smiled at bit- hearing you and Steve call him a hero helped to heal something that was still a bit broken inside. He gave you a long kiss on the temple.

"I'll be real close by baby, okay? Papa's got you, you're safe. And I'll come back as soon as I can, I promise." Before he could second guess himself, he turned down the hallway towards the interrogation room. Fury watched him walk for a moment, then turned back to Steve.

"If you're up for it, I could use you and Natasha in a strategy meeting with Stark in the conference room in ten," he asked hesitantly, feeling awkward about which way to step with you. Steve patted you on the back and smiled.

"See you there."

You tried to let the bad feelings go while Papa carried you down the hall towards his office. At least you felt slightly less guilty that you'd been clinging so desperately to Bucky all morning, and now were in Steve's arms, showing him how much you needed him too. The thought made you nuzzle gratefully into his neck. He responded with a gentle chuckle and a long kiss on top of your head.

Papa carefully placed your bag in his office, thinking that if you got overstimulated or upset, he could quickly bring you back here to calm you down. He then proceeded to the conference room, hoping that maybe he could get you to fall asleep before the meeting started and catch up on your rest.

But even cuddled in his lap, as he rocked you gently back and forth, you still couldn't get rid of the big feelings. The world was just too large right now, and you were too tired to sleep or cry or do anything other than just try to make yourself smaller and smaller.

After a few minutes, Natasha, Tony, and Fury entered the room. Fury had clearly given them both a heads up, and they came over to both give you a gentle kiss or stroke your cheek before settling into their chairs. The chatter wasn't words that you could follow, so it was soothing to hear voices that you knew and loved. You began to relax just the tiniest bit.

After a while, you started to feel a bit squirmy, like something was wrong. You realized what it was, and so you gently patted Steve's chest to get his attention. He immediately looked down at you with a smile, and that made you feel better. You held up your hand to the side of your mouth and whispered (so you wouldn't interrupt the meeting), "Papa, can I go get Jellybean please?"

"We can go get her together and come right back if you want to, Peanut," he whispered back, not wanting you to put yourself in a stressful position. But you shook your head.

"M'okay," you whispered. "Need Jellybean, please?" Papa smiled wider and gave you peck on the cheek.

"Okay, Peanut, go get her and come right back, okay? You remember how to get to the office?" When you nodded, he sat up a bit and let you climb off his lap. You tried to be as small as possible as you walked to the door, opening it as carefully and quietly as you could. You missed Fury raising an eyebrow at your exit, then turning to Steve for an explanation, as did Nat and Tony. Steve smiled widely at the concern on their faces, touched that they were worried about you too. "She's fine, she's just getting Jellybean." Natasha and Tony nodded in understanding, but Fury looked confused. Steve clarified. "Jellybean is her stuffed bunny."

"I was wondering what happened to her," Natasha said. "She's never without that bunny when she's upset."

"She likes bunnies, huh?" Fury asked, looking at his agents.

"She loves them. She and 'Bean have been inseparable since the first day we got her," Steve answered, smiling softly at the memory of your delighted shriek of joy upon meeting the fuzzy gray bunny. Just then, you pushed open the door just a bit, peering anxiously around the edge, afraid you had disturbed them once again. Fury leaned into your line of sight.

"It's alright, Little One, come on in," he prompted you kindly.

"Thank you Mr. Nick," you said shyly as you squeezed past the door, Jellybean cuddled in the crook of your arm.

"Ah, and I see you've brought Agent Jellybean," Fury continued. You stopped suddenly in your tracks, looking up at Fury in wonder. "Excellent. Let me know if she had any insights to this mess, hmm?" he said to you, gesturing to the screen behind him. "She's one of our best stealth agents, you know."

"She is?" you asked in hushed wonder, perking up the slightest bit. "How do you know?"

"Because I'm the director of SHIELD. I know everything."

You turned to Jellybean. "He knows EVERYTHING," you whispered to the bunny. Fury kept a straight face while both Natasha and Tony bit their lips to contain their laughter. Steve had the sweetest look of both mirth and mischief on his face, touched that one of the toughest, most bad-ass men he knew cared so much about you that he was willing to grant the title of "agent" to a stuffed rabbit, even in play.

"You're damn right, I do. Now let's get on with this meeting," Fury said pompously, turning back to the map as if nothing had happened. Steve's heart melted as he saw the first smile of the day on your face. You still walked as quietly as you could, desperately needing to be back in Steve's arms, but as you cuddled back into your place on Papa's lap, he could feel some of the tension release from your body. He subtly rocked you back and forth until you finally fell asleep, finally calm in his arms with your beloved secret agent bunny.

[vunblr]

Unspoken (Ch.2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Warnings: 18+ only. Wet Dream, Angst-Hurt/Comfort, Alusions to Hydra's Trash Party (if you don't know what that is, google about it before reading please), Alusions to Sexual Abuse, Invasive Medical Procedure, Panic Attack situation, Sam being Sam.

Summary: Bucky tries to deal with his traumatic past, and struggles with his feelings as he grows closer to a new Avenger.

Word Count: About 7.2.k.

notes: Second and final chapter of this story. I hope you enjoy it!

The limo was packed, the air thick with anticipation and, in Bucky’s case, a simmering sense of discomfort. Y/n was squeezed up against the side of the car, her body brushing against his, while Sam sat across from them, legs casually sprawled out, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Well, look at us,” Sam said, stretching his arms out theatrically. “All dressed up for a fancy night out. Bucky, you clean up pretty well for a guy who spends most of his time brooding in corners.”

Bucky shot him a glare but didn’t bother to respond, his focus on keeping his breathing steady as her leg pressed against his. She had no idea how much that little contact was messing with his already frayed nerves. The warmth of her body beside him felt too familiar after what happened last night. He shifted slightly, trying to create some space, but it was impossible in the cramped limo.

“Aw, come on, Buck,” Sam continued, clearly enjoying himself. “Don’t tell me you’re still sulking about coming along. I mean, it’s for charity, man. And if anyone here knows how to be charitable, it’s you.” His grin widened as he leaned forward. “Especially when it comes to these two fine ladies.”

Steve, who sat beside Sam, chuckled, shaking his head as he turned his attention to Y/n and Natasha. “He’s right, though,” Steve said, his voice warm. “You both are amazing women, but tonight you’re especially lovely.”

Y/n blushed under Steve’s compliment, offering a playful smile in return. “Thanks, Steve. But really, all credit goes to Nat here for dragging me into this.”

Natasha smirked, lounging next to Y/n in a striking red dress. “You’ll thank me later when we clean house in that bachelorette’s auction.”

Bucky, meanwhile, was doing his best to avoid looking directly at her. The black dress was more than enough to set him on edge, the low neckline and mesh stockings flashing in his peripheral vision like a neon sign, reminding him of the dream that wouldn’t leave him alone. He clenched his jaw and stared out the window, trying to focus on the passing streetlights instead.

“You good back there, Clank?” Sam teased again, noticing Bucky’s tense posture. “You look like you’re about to crack a tooth.” he leaned back, crossing his arms with a cocky grin plastered across his face.

Bucky’s jaw clenched harder, and his metal fingers flexed, the soft whir of gears barely audible over Sam’s incessant teasing. “Keep talking, Sam,” he muttered, his voice low and warning. “See where that gets you.”

Sam wasn’t letting up. “Oh, come on. I’ve seen that look before. That’s the ‘I’ve got feelings but don’t know what to do with them’ look.” His grin widened, clearly enjoying how riled up Bucky was getting. “You worried someone’s gonna outbid you tonight?” he teased, relishing the tension. “Not that you could, you know, since you didn’t even sign up to participate.”

Bucky’s eyes flashed, the muscle in his jaw twitching. He shot Sam a dangerous look but swallowed the sharp retort burning at the back of his throat. Sam had no idea how close to the truth he was coming, and the last thing Bucky wanted was for anyone -especially Y/n- to figure it out.

She caught Sam’s teasing and frowned, her eyes flicking to Bucky. She couldn’t miss how his whole body had gone rigid, like he was just one wrong word away from snapping. The tension radiating off him was palpable. Then it hit her. Considering the way he had been treating her -distant, cold, like she barely existed- the only plausible explanation for Sam’s comments... Was he into Nat?

That thought dug deeper than she expected, a sharp pang in her chest that she couldn’t ignore. She tried to brush it off, but it lingered, nagging at her.

She hesitated, her teeth sinking into her lower lip before she leaned in slightly. Her voice came out low, edged with reluctant empathy. “Don’t mind him,” she muttered, her words meant only for Bucky’s ears. “I’m sure Nat will be fine.”

Bucky’s head snapped to her, surprise flashing in his eyes before it quickly turned to something darker, stormier. She had no idea what was really going on in his head, and the fact that she thought this was about Natasha hit him like a sucker punch to the gut.

“That’s not-” He stopped himself, jaw tightening. There was no point in trying to explain, not here, not now, and certainly not with Sam hanging on every word. He let out a slow breath, his tone gruff when he spoke again, quieter. “Just drop it, okay?”

She blinked, startled by the rawness in his tone. She thought she’d struck a nerve, but clearly not the one she’d expected. Still, after the way he’d treated her recently, she wasn’t about to let him off the hook. If he wanted to be difficult, she could meet him halfway.

“Fine,” she replied coolly. “Not like it’s any of my business, right?” She leaned back, crossing her arms as if to physically distance herself, her eyes focusing on the passing city through the window.

Sam, sensing the tension in the air, raised his eyebrows but -for once- chose not to stir the pot further. He shot a questioning glance at Steve, wordlessly asking, What’s going on here?

Steve caught Sam’s look and responded with a subtle shake of his head, lips pressed into a thin, knowing line. His gaze flicked between Bucky and Y/n, then back to Sam, silently conveying the message: Don’t push it. There was understanding in Steve’s eyes, whatever was going on with Bucky ran deeper than just nerves or irritation. His expression was clear: Give him space.

Finally, the “limo of awkwardness” reached its destination, pulling up to the entrance of the lavish event. The tension inside was palpable, and everyone seemed eager to escape the cramped space. As soon as the doors opened, there was a collective sigh of relief as they stepped out into the open.

Y/n practically bolted out of the car, the cool evening air a welcome contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside. Natasha followed with a smirk, clearly more amused than bothered by the awkward ride. “Bathroom break?” she suggested, raising an eyebrow at Y/n, who nodded gratefully. Together, they made their way toward the entrance, their heels clicking softly on the pavement as they prepared to retouch their makeup and shake off the tension.

Meanwhile, the guys lagged, hanging around the entrance for a moment before stepping into the crowd of finely dressed people. The venue was swarming with posh elites, champagne flutes in hand, chatting in clusters that screamed wealth and sophistication. Bucky stuffed his hands into his pockets, his shoulders stiff as he surveyed the sea of unfamiliar faces, feeling out of place and more than a little on edge.

Sam, ever the social butterfly, immediately started mingling, flashing his charming smile at a passing couple. "Nice place," he muttered to Steve, grabbing a champagne flute from a passing waiter. "Think Tony outdid himself this time?"

Steve gave a small nod, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of trouble, though it was more habit than genuine concern. “Yeah, it’s impressive,” he replied, though his attention drifted toward Bucky, who had slowly gravitated to the edge of the crowd, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Don’t disappear.” Sam called out, clapping him on the shoulder as he joined Steve in surveying the room. His grin was teasing, but light-hearted enough to let the tension from the limo ride dissipate.

Bucky just rolled his eyes, staying quiet but sticking close to the group as they moved into the crowd. He wasn’t in the mood for mingling, but he’d made it this far.

The event officially kicked off with Tony taking the stage, his usual confident grin plastered across his face. He grabbed the microphone and began his speech with his typical charm. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to an evening of generosity, glamour and, let’s be honest, some good old-fashioned fun,” he announced, flashing a playful smirk. “Tonight’s about raising money for a great cause, but it wouldn’t be a true Stark event without a bit of spice, right?” The crowd chuckled, their champagne glasses shimmering under the soft lighting as they eagerly awaited the night’s entertainment.

Meanwhile, Natasha and Y/n emerged from the bathroom, looking radiant and refreshed. As they walked back toward the main hall, Tony’s voice echoed across the room. “And now, for the part you’ve all been waiting for: our very own bachelor auction! The first of the two events we have tonight! Get your wallets out and let’s start bidding, people! Remember, it’s for charity, but hey, you get to take home a prize for the night too,” he said with a wink, his tone playful but persuasive.

The stage lit up, and the male candidates for the auction stepped forward, each one more enthusiastic than the last. Tony, never one to miss a chance to stir up excitement, started hyping them up. “Look at these guys! We've got muscles, brains, and a whole lot of… charisma.” He pointed to one of the bachelors. “Ladies, I hear this one’s an excellent conversationalist... and check out those thighs! Perfect for sitting on, am I right?” The crowd erupted into laughter, but there was already a buzz as bids began flying.

Y/n had been chuckling softly at Tony’s ridiculous commentary when she caught a glimpse of Bucky out of the corner of her eye. Something was off. He was standing rigidly, his jaw set in a hard line, eyes locked onto the stage but distant, as if he wasn’t really there. His face seemed pale, drawn tight in a way that made her stomach twist with concern.

As he stood there, arms crossed, his eyes fixed on the stage, a sudden wave of nausea hit him. It started with the sound of Tony's playful words, the laughter in the crowd, and the sight of the men being paraded in front of eager eyes. All of it melded together into something darker, something far too familiar.

Without warning, his mind transported him again back to the past. The dim, suffocating atmosphere of one of the sickening Hydra parties. He could feel the cold bite of chains against his skin, the way they had displayed him like an object, barely clothed, barely human. He had been the prize, the thing to be won, over and over again, with leering eyes and depraved hands deciding his fate. The room around him started to warp, blurring as his vision tunneled. His heart rate spiked, and his breath quickened, chest tightening painfully.

Bucky’s grip on his own arms grew stronger, his metal fingers pressing into the flesh of his opposite arm so hard that he was bruising the enhanced skin. He tried to remind himself where he was, tried to tell himself that this was different. But the flood of memories was relentless, dragging him down into the depths of his trauma.

He could feel it, the sensation of being used, of having no agency. The faces of those who had taken pleasure in his pain flashed before his eyes. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, his body trembling. Sweat prickled along his brow as his surroundings closed in on him, the chatter and laughter of the event fading into a distant, haunting echo.

Suddenly, the present broke through just enough for Bucky to realize he couldn’t breathe. Panic was closing in on him like a vice, squeezing tighter and tighter. The telltale signs of an impending panic attack flared: his heart hammered in his chest, and the room seemed to spin out of control.

He pushed himself off the column. His movements were sharp, almost desperate, as he weaved through the crowd like a wounded animal seeking refuge. His breath was shallow, his steps quickening. He didn’t know where he was going, only that he needed to escape the noise, the eyes, the memories. The room was suffocating, and every second spent in it felt like another piece of his soul was being ripped away. He made a break for the exit, his jaw clenched so tight that his teeth hurt, his mind focused on one thing: getting the fuck out.

Before she could fully register it, she saw him push off the column. His normally composed demeanor was nowhere to be found. Bucky’s face was contorted, his brow furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line, the shallow, rapid rise and fall of his chest gave him away. He was unraveling, right there in front of everyone.

Her own breath hitched as she watched him cut through the crowd with increasing urgency. His retreat was too quick, too desperate, and she felt a sudden, overwhelming tug of alarm shoot through her.

Something was wrong, really wrong.

Without thinking, she stepped away from Natasha, her focus zeroed in on Bucky. Her gaze was locked on the exit he had disappeared through. Her anger faded into the background, replaced by an unshakable need to make sure he was okay. There was something in the way he had bolted, something haunted. She found herself speeding up, her heels clicking loudly against the floor as she headed toward the doors, her eyes scanning the surroundings, hoping she could find him before he disappeared completely. Maybe it was instinct, or maybe it was something else entirely, but she couldn’t let him go through whatever it was alone, not again.

Eventually she pushed through the heavy ballroom doors, leaving the noise of laughter and clinking glasses behind her as she stepped into the quiet night air. The sudden shift in the atmosphere was jarring, the lively event inside faded into a dull hum, barely audible as she found herself standing in a meticulously manicured topiary garden. Tall, artfully shaped hedges loomed around her, casting long shadows under the moonlight, the only light coming from lanterns lining the stone pathway.

Her heels clicked softly as she moved forward, eyes scanning the surroundings. The cool air brushed against her skin, doing little to soothe the knot of anxiety twisting inside her. She couldn't shake the image of Bucky's face from her mind. She quickened her pace, rounding one hedge and then another, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. But the garden stretched on, and after a few minutes of searching, her stomach sank. Was he gone?

She bit her lip, frustration and worry mingling in her chest. She stood still for a moment, closing her eyes to listen, trying to tune in to any sound beyond the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant murmur from the party. Nothing. The garden felt too large, too quiet. She sighed and started retreating inside when movement caught her eye.

Just off to the side, almost hidden beneath the shadow of a thick, overgrown bush, she spotted a dark shape. Her heart stuttered as she stepped closer, the form coming into view. There, huddled in the dirt, his back pressed against the stone wall, was Bucky. He looked utterly wrecked.

His blue suit was smeared with mud formed in the recently watered soil, as though he’d been sitting there for a while. His hair, previously pulled back neatly into a bun, was disheveled, loose strands clinging to his forehead, others tangled and tugged free as if he'd been pulling at it in desperation. His hands were fisted in the damp earth by his sides, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He didn’t move as she approached, didn’t even acknowledge her presence. It was as if he had retreated into himself, hiding in plain sight, blending in with the shadows like he wanted to disappear entirely.

Her breath caught at the sight of him. If there were remnants of her initial anger, they melted away entirely now. What was left in its place was pure concern. She had never seen him like this, so broken, so raw.

“Bucky?” she called softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she knelt down, hesitating just a foot away. He didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on the ground, his breaths still coming in shallow, uneven bursts.

Her heart clenched. He was hiding. Not just physically, but emotionally too. He was retreating into that dark place, she had seen glimpses of it before, but never like this.

“Hey…” she tried again, her tone gentle, trying to reach him through the fog of whatever nightmare was gripping him. “Bucky, it’s me.”

For a moment, nothing. He remained hunched, his knuckles white from where his fists were clenched in the mud. But then, slowly, he blinked, his gaze shifting ever so slightly toward her. The look in his eyes was a mixture of panic and shame, as though he didn’t want her to see him like this.

“I’m fine,” he croaked, though his voice betrayed the lie. He wasn’t fine. He was far from it.

She inched closer, her hand hovering uncertainly, wanting to reach out but unsure if he’d pull away. “You’re not,” she said softly, her eyes locked on his. “You’re not fine, Bucky.”

He swallowed hard, his throat working against the emotion he was trying to keep down. “Just… leave me alone, please,” he muttered, his voice thick with strain, like it took all of his strength to form the words. “I don’t… I can’t-” His breath hitched, and he turned his head away, his body language curling inward even more as if trying to shield himself from her gaze.

Her heart ached. She couldn’t leave him here, sitting in the dirt, drowning in whatever demons had resurfaced tonight.

Without thinking, she reached out, her fingers lightly brushing against his hand. He flinched at the contact but didn’t pull away. Encouraged by the slight opening, she gently took his hand in hers, squeezing just enough to ground him.

“I know maybe I’m not the number one person you want to be with right now, but I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered, her voice firm but soft.

Bucky’s breath hitched, his fingers twitching in her grip. He looked down at their joined hands as if struggling to process the kindness in her touch. He didn’t speak, but the tension in his shoulders slowly began to loosen, the rigid line of his back slightly relaxing.

She stayed quiet, giving him the space to come back from whatever dark place his mind had taken him to. The silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, it was steady, like the air before a storm breaks. She could feel the weight of his unspoken turmoil pressing down on them both, but she didn’t let go, even when the seconds dragged on.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Bucky let out a ragged breath. His voice, when it came, was low and hoarse. “You shouldn’t have followed me.”

Her lips pressed together. She could hear the self-loathing in his tone, the way he seemed to think he was a burden, something she shouldn’t have to deal with. “I couldn’t just leave you like that,” she said gently. “Not when I knew you were hurting.”

He winced at the word, like it physically pained him to admit that she was right. “You don’t understand,” he muttered, his eyes darting away, staring blankly at the ground.

“I don’t have to,” she countered, her grip on his hand tightening slightly, a quiet reassurance. “You don’t need to explain anything. I just…” She hesitated, then sighed softly. “I just don’t want you to feel like you’re alone. Because you’re not.”

Bucky’s throat worked as he swallowed hard, clearly fighting some internal battle. The vulnerability in his eyes was stark, a raw edge she wasn’t used to seeing in him. “I don’t deserve this,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

She frowned. “You don’t get to decide what you deserve, Bucky. Not when you have people who care about you.” Her tone softened as she met his gaze. “And I care about you. So, I’m here. Whether you like it or not.” Without waiting for him to respond, she lowered herself onto the dirt beside him, her dress immediately catching the mud, smearing across the delicate fabric, and her legs. Little branches snagged at her hairdo, but she didn’t care.

Bucky clenched his jaw, her words sinking in deep. He didn’t deserve her -her kindness, her care- after all the terrible things he’d done. How could anyone care for him after what he’d been made to do? But what gnawed at him more was how he’d been with her recently, how he’d pushed her away, knowing his feelings for her were growing too strong to handle. He had been cold, cruel even, thinking it would be easier to keep his distance.

But here she was, not giving up on him. He felt his chest tighten, a tangle of guilt and longing. He didn’t deserve this.

And yet, he couldn’t deny the quiet comfort her presence brought. Slowly, he felt his body ease, his rigid frame relaxing as her warmth seeped into him. His shoulder brushed hers, hesitantly at first, then stayed. This time, he didn’t fight it. He didn’t want to.

The warmth of her body, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, it all felt soothing. He let himself be pulled into the comfort she offered, no longer caring if his attraction to her showed. It wasn’t like he could hide it now, or cared, anyway.

His fingers, rough and scarred, still trembling, brushed against her leg, just a light, accidental touch, but enough to send a shiver up his spine. He wasn’t sure if she noticed, but he did. And this time, he didn’t retreat.

Bucky’s breathing slowed and deepened, his chest rising and falling in sync with hers. His head dipped slightly, not quite resting on her shoulder, but close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her. His fingers shifted again, this time curling just slightly around her thigh. It was a small, almost imperceptible movement, but it felt monumental to him. For once, he wasn’t recoiling, wasn’t hiding behind walls of shame and guilt. He was just… there, with her, feeling what he felt, even if he couldn’t say it out loud.

He glanced up at her again, his blue eyes meeting hers. For the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t look away. His gaze lingered, searching her face for something, understanding, acceptance, maybe even something more. And what he found there, in her eyes, was enough to make the knot in his chest loosen just a little bit more.

She didn’t say anything, didn’t push him. And in that silence, in the simple act of being there for him, Bucky felt something shift inside him. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as alone as he thought.

Without thinking, he let out a soft sigh, the sound almost like a release, as his body shifted, and he finally dipped his head to rest it lightly on her thighs. The movement was tentative as if he were bracing for her to pull away, to break the fragile moment. But she didn’t flinch. She didn’t move. She stayed right there, solid and steady, grounding him once again.

When he fully rested his head, her fingers found his hair almost instinctively, gently threading through his disheveled locks. The touch was soft, soothing, and familiar, much like the night before when she had used her healing powers to ease his nightmares. But this time, she didn’t channel any of her energy into him, at least, not yet.

For a few minutes, she simply caressed his hair, her fingertips brushing lightly against his scalp, tracing calming patterns. Bucky’s tense muscles began to relax further, his body sinking into the comfort of her touch. It was grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected.

After a while, her fingers paused in his hair. Her voice was soft, hesitant but caring as she asked, “Do you want me to… like last night?” There was no pressure in her words, only a quiet offer, giving him the choice.

Bucky didn't respond immediately, his head still resting against her thighs, eyes half-closed as he focused on the sensation of her fingers in his hair. The soothing rhythm of her touch was almost enough, but he knew what she meant, what she could do for him if he let her.

Bucky was silent for a long moment, his body still against her, but the tension returned to his shoulders, subtle but unmistakable. He shook his head once, slowly, almost reluctantly. “No,” he whispered, the word hanging in the air between them. “I… I need to feel this,” he added, his voice rough but steady. “I can’t run from it every time.” It was difficult to say, but he meant it. He didn’t want to escape his emotions, didn’t want to numb the pain or bury the overwhelming feelings inside him. He just wanted to exist in it, to sit in this moment with her without any powers or distractions, even if it hurt.

She then let her hand continue to stroke his hair softly, offering comfort in the simplest way possible. She respected his decision, knowing how much strength it took for him to face these demons on his own terms. “I’m still here,” she whispered, her touch never faltering, her presence solid and unshakable. “If you ever need me.”

Bucky didn’t respond with words, but he relaxed against her once again, his body yielding to the quiet, unspoken understanding that settled between them. Even without her powers, the weight of her presence was enough for him to hold on.

Eventually, the quiet that had settled between them started to fade, replaced by the creeping awareness that they couldn’t stay huddled in the garden forever. The world beyond their little bubble -the event, the people, the expectations- slowly edged its way back into their consciousness.

She shifted slightly, her fingers pausing in Bucky’s hair as she glanced around. The faint buzz of the distant crowd could still be heard from the ballroom, and the glow of lights from the mansion cast long shadows across the topiary. It felt like they’d been gone for hours, though in reality, it had probably only been minutes.

“We should… probably get out of here,” she whispered reluctantly, her voice breaking the comforting silence.

Bucky didn’t move right away, still resting against her lap as if he could ignore the world just a little longer. But eventually, he sighed and sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Yeah… we can’t be seen like this,” he muttered, looking down at the mud stains on his ruined suit.

She glanced at herself and winced. “I look like I’ve been rolling around in the dirt with you,” she said with a half-smile, brushing at the mud streaks on her dress to no avail.

The event was long forgotten by both of them, but the problem remained: how could they get back to the compound without looking like they’d crawled out of a swamp? They exchanged looks, silently weighing their options when suddenly, the sound of footsteps approached.

Before they could react, Sam appeared around the corner, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw them. His eyes widened, taking in the sight of both of them covered in dirt, hair wild with sticks on it, and clothes rumpled. He raised an eyebrow, crossed his arms and leaned against the nearby wall, his smirk growing wider by the second. “Well, well, well,” he drawled out, clearly enjoying the scene. “Looks like somebody took ‘blending in’ a little too seriously. What, did you two get lost in a jungle on the way to the bathroom?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Honestly, I don't even wanna know what y’all were up to, but good luck explaining that to the rest of the team.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but Sam held up a hand. “Nope, no explanations needed. You two look guilty enough as it is.” He winked and gestured behind him. “But seriously, you might wanna get out before Steve or Nat see you. Unless you wanna be the talk for the next month in the compound.”

Bucky cursed under his breath, his voice low and filled with frustration, running a hand again through his already messed up hair, making it even worse. Beside him, she winced internally, knowing they looked like a pair of absolute messes.

“Sammy, do you have any ideas for getting us out of here discreetly?” she asked with a groan.

Sam didn’t miss a beat, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Discretion? Yeah… you two sitting in the bushes covered in dirt totally screams discretion.” His grin widened as he glanced between them. “But sure, I can help. Just let me figure out how to sneak out two people who look like they’ve been rolling around in the mud like… well, you know, two horny teenagers.”

Her face went beet red, and she shot a horrified look at Sam. “Sam, this it no-” she started, but his laughter cut her off.

“Oh, c’mon, I’m just messing with you,” Sam said, winking at her. “But seriously, you two really need to work on your subtlety if you’re gonna sneak off for some ‘alone time.’”

If looks could kill, Sam would’ve been obliterated on the spot by Bucky’s death glare. His fists clenched at his sides, and his voice was a dangerous growl. “Shut it, Wilson. Unless you wanna be the next thing that ends up in the bushes.”

Sam just raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. “Alright, alright! Chill, Tin Man. I’m just saying, you gotta work on your cover story for when you walk back in looking like that.”

She wanted to disappear into the ground, her mortification complete. But Sam, as always, had an answer. “Tell you what,” he said, slapping Bucky on the back. “I’ll create a distraction. You two sneak around the back, and I’ll make sure no one’s looking when you head out.” he shook his head, clearly relishing the moment. "But I gotta say, this is one hell of a way to ditch a party," he quipped, waggling his eyebrows mischievously. "mud wrestling?"

She groaned, burying her face in her hands, mortified. Bucky shot Sam a withering glare, muttering another string of curses under his breath.

“Next time, let’s stick to indoor adventures, shall we? He added, flashing a grin. Before either of them could respond, Sam turned on his heel. "I'll think of something," he called over his shoulder, already planning his grand distraction.

The night was still, the distant hum of the city barely audible as Bucky and Y/n walked along the deserted road. The event had been on the outskirts, far enough from the city that they had no choice but to hoof it for a while. Neither of them had spoken since Sam’s grand distraction allowed them to slip out unnoticed, both too absorbed in their own thoughts.

Bucky walked a few steps ahead, hands stuffed in his pockets, his shoulders hunched as if he were trying to make himself smaller.

The silence stretched on, heavy but not uncomfortable. Eventually, she huffed softly, the heels she’d stubbornly kept on finally becoming too much. Without a word, she stopped, bending to slip them off. "God, that’s better," she muttered to herself, dangling the shoes by their straps before picking up the pace again to catch up with Bucky.

His gaze focused on her for a moment, lingering and taking in the sight of her -disheveled, dirty, barefooted-. She was a mess, and the tension in his chest twisted painfully, guilt creeping into his mind again, not only because of how he had treated her but also from what transpired that night.

Without saying a word, he shrugged off his suit jacket and gently placed it around her shoulders. The skimpy dress she wore had been fine for the party but wasn’t doing much to protect her now.

She looked up at him, a flicker of surprise in her eyes, but she didn’t protest. Instead, she accepted the jacket, sliding her arms into the oversized sleeves. The fabric was heavy, enveloping her in warmth, and the sleeves hung so long that only the tips of her fingers peeked out. As she adjusted the jacket on her shoulders, a faint scent of him clung to it, something earthy, mixed with the subtle notes of cedar and leather. It was distinctly Bucky, grounding her in a way she hadn’t expected.

“It’s warm... thanks,” she murmured, her voice quiet but sincere. Despite everything, she couldn’t help but enjoy the comfort of his presence wrapped around her, even if only through the fabric of his jacket.

Bucky kept his gaze straight ahead. After a beat, he broke the silence. “I’m sorry you missed the event because of me,” he said softly, his voice rough around the edges.

Her steps faltered slightly, her fingers tightening around the sleeves as his apology settled over her. She hesitated before speaking, biting her lip as a bitter truth spilled out. “I’m sorry I’m not Natasha.” Bucky’s head whipped toward her, his brow furrowed, and for a moment, his guard slipped. She shook her head, exhaling sharply. “Maybe... I should’ve sent her after you instead of following you myself.”

Bucky's frown deepened. That was the second time she brought up Nat. “Where did you even get that idea?”

She sighed, the weight of her own insecurities pushing her to finally explain. “Because of what Sam said… on the limo. About you being all grumpy because you couldn’t bid in the auction.” She hesitated, her voice wavering slightly. “I thought he meant... you wanted to bid on Natasha.”

Bucky cursed under his breath, his frustration barely contained. “Why the hell would you think that?” he asked, his voice low, almost incredulous.

She quirked a brow, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, a mixture of frustration and vulnerability in her posture. “What else was I supposed to think? You’ve been treating me like the plague, Bucky. Like you couldn’t stand to be around me.” She uncrossed her arms and ran a hand through her hair, exhaling in frustration. “And then when Sam made that joke, it just… it fit, it was obvious he was talking about Nat.” She glanced away, as if admitting it aloud somehow made her feel even smaller.

Bucky’s jaw clenched, a storm brewing behind his eyes as he stepped closer, his voice rough. “That’s not what’s going on. Not even close.”

“Then what is going on?” Her voice wavered as her hand fell to her side.

His hands clenched and unclenched, wrestling with the words he’d buried for so long. Fuck it. "It’s not Natasha," he said finally, his voice rough but clear. "It’s you. It’s always been you."

She blinked, caught off guard. “Me?” The word came out barely above a whisper, soft and disbelieving. Her heart raced, pounding so loud she was sure he heard it.

Bucky’s gaze held hers, raw and unguarded, his jaw tight as if saying the words had cost him more than he wanted to admit. "Yeah, you," he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair in frustration. "Why do you think I’ve been avoiding you? I… I didn’t know how to deal with it."

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out at first, her heart still pounding as she tried to find her voice. “Honestly? From where I’m standing, I kind of thought you couldn’t stand me with the way you’ve been acting.” Then, deciding she’d had enough of this back-and-forth, she gathered her courage. "Would it help," she began, her tone softer, more vulnerable, "if I told you I’m into you too?"

Bucky froze, his breath catching as her words hung in the air between them. For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. His eyes flickered with a mix of emotions; hope, fear, something close to desperation.

“I...” He dragged a hand over his face, frustration roughening his voice. “I don’t know how to answer that.” He paused, his gaze dropping to the ground before slowly lifting back to meet hers. “Part of me wants to tell you that’s what I’ve wanted to hear... for so damn long. But the other part...” His fists clenched at his sides, tension rolling off him. “I’ve got so much... so much shit I haven’t even begun to unpack. And I don’t wanna drag you into it. I’m damaged goods, you deserve better than I can give. Shit, probably the only thing I can do right now is take.

She stayed quiet for a moment, watching him wrestle with his emotions. Then she shook her head, her voice steady but soft. “I’m a grown woman, Bucky. I’m very capable of making my own decisions. And I’ve decided... I want to give this a try, if you are ok with that.”

Bucky’s expression shifted as he stared at her, the war inside him playing out behind his eyes. “I don’t know how to do this.” he said softly, his words laced with apprehension. He looked at her, his heart pounding, torn between fear and longing. His dirty hand hovered between them, hesitant, but when she reached out and took it, the tension in his chest eased. “I can’t promise I’ll be easy to deal with,” he added, his voice barely audible.

“I’m not asking for easy,” she replied, squeezing his hand gently. “I’m asking for you.”

Bucky stared at her, her words sinking in, and something shifted in his chest. He felt the weight of all his fears and doubts, but her touch, her steady presence, made it seem lighter somehow, like maybe he wasn’t as broken as he thought. Slowly, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and for the first time in what felt like forever, it reached his eyes, softening the lines of exhaustion and pain that usually darkened his features. “Okay,” he murmured, his voice a little steadier now, though still laced with disbelief. He stepped closer, narrowing the gap between them, his eyes locked on hers. Her hand was still in his, grounding him, and suddenly, without thinking -no more doubts, no more hesitation- he decided to man up.

In one swift, unguarded moment, he leaned in. His free hand cupped the side of her face, calloused fingers brushing her cheek as he tilted her chin up. He paused just a heartbeat, his breath mingling with hers, before closing the distance. His lips found hers, soft but insistent, a kiss that spoke of everything he’d been too afraid to say. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate. It was something deeper, something that tasted of hope, of taking a chance.

When they finally parted, Bucky’s forehead came to rest gently against hers, their breaths still mingling in the cool night air. Neither of them spoke, the silence more comforting than any words could be in that moment. His thumb absentmindedly brushed her cheek, as if grounding himself in her presence.

For a while, they just stood there, forehead to forehead, until Bucky felt her body tremble slightly against him. He frowned, realizing that despite his jacket draped over her shoulders, they were still out on a desolate road in the middle of the night, and she was dressed for a gala, not a walk through the cold. “You’re freezing,” he muttered, glancing down at her bare feet and legs showing under the hem of his suit.

“Nah, I’m fine,” she started, but her teeth chattered slightly, betraying her words.

Bucky raised a brow, unconvinced. “Come on, climb on my back,” he said, turning around and squatting slightly as if to make it easier for her.

“What?” she blinked, shaking her head. “No way, I can walk.”

He shot her an exasperated look. “I’m not asking. It’s cold, and you’re barefoot. Besides,” he added with a teasing smirk, “I could probably run five miles with you on my back without breaking a sweat.”

She let out a reluctant laugh, still feeling self-conscious. “I don’t know, Bucky…”

“Seriously? I can bench-press a car, and you’re worried about a piggyback ride?” His grin widened, confidence oozing from his voice. “Come on, let me show off a little, after all the crap I put you through."

She hesitated but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. “Okay, fine,” she sighed, giving in. “But if you drop me…”

“I won’t,” he cut in with a grin, glancing back at her over his shoulder. “Scout’s honor.”

With a roll of her eyes, she finally climbed onto his back, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as his hands gripped her legs effortlessly. His warmth surrounded her instantly, and as she rested her chin on his shoulder, she felt her tension slowly melt away. Then a thought hit her, and she glanced down at her muddy legs. “Your shirt…” she muttered, a little hesitant. “It’s going to be a mess.”

Bucky didn’t even slow down, his grip steady and sure. He let out a low chuckle, his voice a deep rumble she felt against his back. “You think I care about the shirt?” He glanced over his shoulder, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “Your thighs are around my waist. Pretty sure I’ve got more important things to think about.”

She couldn’t help but blush at his cheeky remark, and hid her face on his nape. His steady pace, the warmth radiating from his body, and the rhythmic sound of his shoes hitting the pavement soothed her.

As they walked, Bucky’s steps slowed, his gaze fixed on the path ahead, but his thoughts were clearly elsewhere. “You really sure about this?” he asked softly, his voice quieter than usual. “Sitting in the mud with me while I’m falling apart… that’s not the kind of life I want for you. Hell, that’s not the kind of life I want for anyone.”

She rested her chin on his shoulder again, her arms tightening slightly around him. “I stood with you in the mud because I wanted to. No one forced me. And if that’s part of being with you, then I’ll deal with it. I’m not afraid of your mess.”

Bucky stayed silent for a moment, letting her words sink in. His heart clenched, torn between the comfort of her closeness and the nagging doubt that never fully left him. “You say that now,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s not always gonna be just mud. There’s… stuff I don’t even know how to talk about.”

She tightened her arms around him, her lips brushing against his ear. “Then don’t talk about it yet,” she replied softly. “Just... let me be here. Let me decide what I can handle.”

Bucky’s throat tightened. The weight of her words felt both heavy and freeing, a strange contradiction he wasn’t sure how to process. “I’ve spent so long trying to push people away,” he admitted, his voice rough. “I don’t even know how to let someone in anymore.”

Her lips curved into a small, soft smile against his neck. “Good thing you’ve got time to figure it out, Buck. I’m not in a hurry.”

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

[holylulusworld]

Designed by pain (1)

Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader; Arthur Ketch x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, implied break-up, time jumps, strong reader, Dean being a douche (implied), unplanned pregnancy

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

Designed by pain masterlist

Designed by pain (Prologue)

One night of passion, a life-long responsibility. The words you wrote echo in your mind. It’s only a few days since you left Dean and the house, but you are already falling apart. 

You spent the better part of the drive back to your shared home being scared of the future. 

Having a baby so soon into your relationship wasn’t in your plans. Neither was it to raise the child alone. Even though you know, there is no way you’ll not love the life growing inside your body.

“Fuck, what do I do now?” You slam the door shut behind you and immediately sink to your knees. You choke out a sob and hide your face in the palms of your hands. 

Six days and Dean didn’t even try to call you, nor did he come home. 

He’s over you already, and Lisa will take your place. Maybe it never was your place. You were only a placeholder until she came back into the picture.

You grit your teeth and huff. “Fuck you, Dean Winchester.” Something breaks inside of you, and you don’t know if it’s a bad thing. 

The part of you loving Dean unconditionally already starts to fade, and the bitch in the back of your mind taking over whenever you got hurt wins the upper hand.

You straighten your back and look at the woman in the mirror staring back at you. You smirk and put your hands on your hips. “I guess this means we are going to leave and start all over again. Don’t worry little bean,” you lovingly run your hand over your belly, “we are going to fucking rock this…”

One last step and your new life can begin. This is it, the point of no return. Your life with Dean is over, and you are not even sorry anymore.

You gave him time and space to realize what he was about to lose. In the end, you and his baby weren’t important enough to him to even try to talk things out.

Even if he didn’t want to be in a relationship with you any longer, he could’ve at least tried to be a father to his child.

Now you will be a father and mother to the bean growing in your belly. You’re strong and won’t back down, or cry over spilled milk.

If you look back at this moment in a few years, you will clap your hands and cheer for yourself. You’re stronger than Dean or anyone else gave you credit for. Everyone believed you’re only the cheerful and soft girl who loves to bake cookies and dreams of marrying the man you love.

A week ago, you were this person. 

Today you are someone else. An Amazon, who will take her life in her hands and move on from a man who never loved her…

The takeoff is both exciting and terrifying. You are flying to another country, to live on another continent. Your old life will be in the past, and you can only think about the future from now on. 

Holding your old plushie in your hands, squeezing it tightly you take deep breaths. “In and out,” you tell yourself to calm your nerves. Flying always makes you nervous. This didn’t change.

“How do you like first class, Miss Y/L/N,” your new boss asks. He paid for a first-class ticket so you could talk about your new position and the house he rented for you.

“Thank you for inviting me,” you give him a quick smile. Arthur Ketch is a very polite and charming man, but you cannot appreciate him at the moment. 

“I have to thank you for accepting our job offer,” he says and dips his head to watch you nervously run your hand over your belly. “How far are you?”

“Oh—” heat creeps into your cheeks. You should’ve told him that you were pregnant before accepting his company’s offer. “I…I should’ve told you.”

“Most of our employees are mothers and fathers, Y/N. We are a family-friendly company with family-friendly work conditions. And the boss likes you, and your reputation.” He smirks now and leans closer to look at your belly.

“Do you think he’ll like that I didn’t tell them about my pregnancy? I didn’t do it on purpose. I got to know about my pregnancy only a few days ago, and I didn’t intend to accept the job offer at that time.”

“You know that I’m the boss, right?” Ketch grins. 

“You are the boss now?” Your eyes round. “Since when?”

He shrugs. “I was the one behind the job offer. Robert Singer talked highly about you when we last met. From that moment on, I wanted you to work for us. If I told you back then that I was the CEO of the BMOL you would’ve never accepted our offer.”

“So, you tricked me,” you chuckle. “Lately all men seem to lie to me.” You sigh deeply. “Sorry, that was inappropriate. I didn’t want to…” You sniff. “Sorry.”

“You accepted my job offer because of a bad break-up I assume,” he pats your hand. “It’s alright, Y/N. London is the perfect place to start over. I will show you the town, and help you settle in. If you need help, I’ll be there. We care for our employees.”

“Is that a British thing?” You quirk a brow.

“It’s an Arthur Ketch thing,” he replies. “If you ask me, he’s a fool for letting you go. Sorry. Now I was the one saying inappropriate things, Y/N. You can punch me if you want to.”

“No, you’re right,” you hastily reply. “I gave him a choice, but he just gave up on us after meeting his ex-girlfriend again. The job offer was tempting, but I couldn’t imagine leaving the man I love. He made things so much easier for me. I got a new job and a new life. Maybe I should thank him for being the douche he is.”

“You deserve better,” Ketch softly says. “I know that we barely know each other, but believe me, he’s not worth a single tear. A gentleman should never make a woman cry or hurt her. Especially the one carrying his child.”

You give Ketch a sad smile. You’re embarrassed how easily he saw right through you. It wasn’t your intention to talk about your pregnancy and broken heart with your new boss.

“Y/N don’t worry. Everything we talked about today won’t leave this airplane,” he pats your hand. “If you need a friend, I’ll be there…”

Part 2

[thezombieprostitute]

Hummingbird - Part 6

Summary: You didn't want to break into someone's party but you were desperate to see the art at the gallery before it was gone. You're so busy trying to make sure no one sees you that you miss the ever present gaze of Steve Rogers who is wondering why you crashed his party.

Word Count: ~1.5k

A/N: Reader is AFAB

A/N2: This takes place at the same time as Dream Come True Part 7

Warnings: Implied violence. Please let me know if I missed any.

Part 5 -- Part 7

Series Masterlist

Steve is on edge. Ransom might be trapped in his own home and the only way to find out anything was to send in a civilian. True she was on their payroll, but she’s supposed to only be on the legitimate side of things. Bucky was swearing up a storm and vowing to beat every passphrase he could into Ransom’s head so that this shit would never happen again. 

Bucky gets a phone call from Mace, Curtis’s second-in-command. He immediately puts the phone on speaker, “what’ve we got Mace?”

“Note from Ransom that reads, Lloyd is back. Has solid plans to take over everything. We’re getting our intel to confirm and find out where he’s at.”

Steve’s blood runs cold. He knew he should’ve just had Lloyd killed but he was trying to not be like the other Bosses in the other Families. He won’t make that mistake again.

Bucky follows up, “what’s the word on Teach? She safe with you guys?”

“Not yet,” Mace answered. “She sent us a photo of the note from Ransom. Haven’t heard…” There's a ruckus in the background as they hear Curtis yelling. “Give me a minute,” Mace tells them. He doesn’t hang up so Steve and Bucky are privy to the argument between Curtis and Mace. Steve finds himself unable to argue with either man as they go back and forth between priorities. He’d heard rumors Curtis was going soft for Teach but this confirmed it for him. He can’t say he wouldn’t be doing the same if Hummingbird was in danger.

“Shit,” Steve cusses, earning a look from Bucky. “We gotta get a hold of Levinson. Start moving people out of here just in case a war does break out.” 

Bucky nods as Mace gets back on the line with them. “I don’t know how much of that you heard,” Mace’s voice is cold and a little shaky, “but Curtis is taking an axe with him.”

“Fuck,” Bucky whispers. 

“We’ve gotta get a plan in motion and we can’t do that without intel,” Steve says. “I need you and your team to focus on that. If you can find Teach you will tell me her location first so I can talk Everett down. In the meantime we’re getting Levinson to start getting the more at-risk people out of here.”

Bucky nods and adds, “we’re gonna up our patrols a bit and make sure no one goes out unarmed. I’m gonna call in a few friends, Nat should be done setting up McMann’s wife, Barton says he’s been feeling on edge so he’ll be happy to hear it ain’t for nothing.”

“Stay safe, Boss,” Mace says before hanging up.

You’re getting your things ready for whatever it is Steve has planned. He’d called you earlier and told you that there was an emergency and he needed to bring you to his place for a while for safety. Hearing a knock at the door you check through the peephole first to confirm it’s Steve. You let him in and he immediately bearhugs you.

“You’ve got your things packed,” he asks. 

“Just finished.” He nods at your response and gestures for you to follow him. The entire quick walk to the car you can see he’s on alert. His shoulders are tense, every noise warrants a look or quick investigation. 

When you’re inside the car Steve seems a little more relaxed. You know from previous discussions the tinted windows are bulletproof and it looks like he’s got his best driver, Dayton White, behind the wheel. You get the impression the “emergency” he talked about means he’s in danger. 

“Is it safe to talk,” you ask, squeezing his hand.

“Technically,” he replies. “Better to wait until we’re inside.” 

You nod and hold his hand the entire trip. 

When you reach Steve’s office he starts taking and making a storm of phone calls. The primary seems to be someone named Levinson. You trust Steve to explain things so you sit and wait patiently. 

After about an hour a grizzly bear of a man comes in, “Steve, where is she?”

“Ari,” Steve greets. “She’s right there,” and he points to you. “Hummingbird, I need you to go to a safehouse out of town with Levinson.”

“Excuse me,” you ask. “I have no idea what’s going on. Why am I not safe here with you?”

Levinson looks at Steve, eyebrows raised, “you didn’t tell her anything?”

“I’ve been kinda busy,” Steve barks. He looks at you, “we’ve got a very dangerous man looking to bring us down. He will not hesitate to take out anyone that might be remotely associated with us. Ari is our best at coordinating people to get them out of danger without drawing attention, I want you to go with him.”

“Is everyone else out,” you ask.

Steve’s brows furrow in confusion, “what do you mean?” 

“I mean are the others safe already,” you reply. “The nieces and nephews? The Family members that run the legitimate businesses? Are they safe?”

“I want you out with the first few trips,” Steve orders.

“No,” you retort. “I get that I’m important to you and that puts a target on my back, but I’m not leaving and taking up Mr. Levinson’s precious time that could otherwise be spent protecting the more vulnerable Family members!”

“You’re wasting his time now,” Steve scolds. “Just go with him and do as he says so I know you’re safe!”

“I’m not the priority for escape,” you argue. “I can stay inside this fortress. Not everyone else can. Get them out first and then I’ll go!”

Steve is cut off by his phone ringing. “It’s Jensen, I gotta answer.” He keeps glaring at you, trying to stare you down as he barks, “what?!”

“We…we got Teach’s location, Boss,” Jensen stutters. “Cairo hotel on 45th and Washington.”

Steve writes as he speaks, “Cairo hotel, 45th, Washington, got it. Now get back to work on Lloyd.” He hangs up and goes to speak to you but Ari cuts him off. 

“Cairo hotel? I know the manager there. What’s going on?”

Steve takes a breath, “we’ve got a person, a civilian, who appears to have been kidnapped by Lloyd. Tracker on her phone says she’s there.”

“Well, let me give him a call and see if he can’t get her out,” Ari takes out his phone. 

Steve sighs, “and if he gives you trouble, tell him Everett’s gone Berserker and will do anything to get her out safely.”

Ari freezes at that, “holy shit. I don’t think Pine will let him in.”

“I’ll talk him down first, get him to give up his axe,” Steve assures. Ari nods and walks away to make his phone call. Steve then turns his attention to you, “and you are leaving to get somewhere safe.”

“Again, Steve,” you insist, “I am not the priority here. Let the other family go first, I’ll stay right here where you can see me, and after they’re gone, and after that poor woman gets rescued, I’ll get out. I promise.”

Steve is already worn out from the slew of arguments he’s been having so he relents, “fine. But you do not leave my sight. You stay in this room.”

“Yes, Sir,” you smile gently.

He gives you a warning look and calls up Curtis. It takes him a few tries but Everett finally answers. You can hear him yelling over the phone. “We have her location,” Steve tells him. “I’ll give it to you if you calm the hell down.”

There’s some more angry yelling before Steve gets in another word,“because if we’re not careful a lot more people will be hurt and killed. And I know you know that. The last thing we need is Berserker. Now get yourself together, Everett. Put away the axe and I’ll tell you where you can get her. Full stealth operation.”

Steve looks at you and his eyes soften, “do you really want her to see you like this?”

It must’ve done the trick because he tells Curtis what the plan is as Ari returns with some of the finer details of his friend accepting the visit. When they’re done talking Ari leaves to get others moving out of danger and Steve drops into his office chair. 

“Sounds like he’s really in love with her,” you comment. 

Steve nods, “though from what I hear he might not realize it yet.”

“They’ll figure it out soon enough, I’m sure.” You take Steve’s hand in yours. “Sometimes it can take a while.” 

He nods again, “took me a couple years to actually ask you out.”

You look into his eyes, “and it’s taken me a few extra months to say, I love you, Steve.”

His eyes are a mixture of adoration and happiness as he kisses your hand, “I love you too, Hummingbird.”

Part 5 -- Part 7

Series Masterlist

Tags:

@alicedopey; @aryhyuuga; @cynic-spirit; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @ktficworld; @rayofdawnworld; @rebekahdawkins; @texmexdarling

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know.

[waywardcrow]

Timeless.

Chapter IV.

Summary: 1943. 1975. 2024. Three different decades, three different lives, three different times your life and Bucky's interwined; he lost you twice, will he do it again?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader.

TW: It can change each chapter but themes of Bucky as soldier and as the Winter Soldier in general, flashbacks and dreams in italics like this, lots of feels, reader's being a little anxious, some stalking lol, a brief sex scene (p in v), very bad written smut, implied domestic violence (not from Bucky), murder mentioned, past lives, past 40'sreader is mentioned to be named Beth but that changes for 2024 version of her so I nicknamed her little bird for Bucky, Ace for everybody else, this will be a +18 story so minors dni.

Disclaimer: Please remember english is not my first language so if I make a mistake or forget something let me know.

Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.

Previous chapter <;<<

You were fired, that wasn’t a surprise.

Mia Alexander didn’t sue you for every penny you had, that was shocking.

But getting a call from Pepper Potts herself, that was the real main event of your whole life.

She asked you to go and pay her a visit at her office in the Avengers tower, like if that didn’t send you in a spiral of bliss and terror, what will you wear? What could a woman like her want to talk with someone like you? Even if Sergeant Barnes –Bucky, you reminded yourself- told her what had happened in the gala, she might be mad at you.

Your head begun to think in the possibilities all the way there, considering that this was the reason why Mia didn’t sued you, maybe Pepper Potts would do it.

When you finally arrived to the tower your stomach was in knots, not even your lucky outfit made you feel better but like every other day in your life you sucked it up and walked to the front desk.

“Hi, I’m here to see Miss Potts?” you said, making it sound more like a question and the receptionist stared at your vintage midi skirt and blouse like he understood your hesitation. You offered him a smile before telling him your name so he looked for it in the screen in front of him and gave you a visitant pass.

“Third floor, follow the hall, last door in your right” he said and then went back to his screen.

“Oh, ok, thanks” your neck was hot with embarrassment when you reached the elevators and just became more evident when you got in and someone else did too.

“Good morning, third floor too?” Scott Lang, THE Scott Lang, asked you and you could only nod like an idiot. He did a double take on your face and smiled “hey, I know you; you are the girl who throws champagne at evil bosses.”

You were turning purple, it was a sure thing.

“What?” it was all you said.

“Yeah, the other night you did an incredible stunt, Sam told us everything” so Captain America knew too, great. Scott must saw something in your expression because his changed “is ok, seriously, when we hear what she did no one blamed you for it, I was sure Hope was about to kick her ass and don’t let me start with Yelena” your head was spinning “I think it was brave and more subtle than ruining your boss company and driving a car to his pool”

That earned a strangled laugh from you.

“Are you going to see Miss Potts too, Mr. Lang?” you asked when the elevator doors opened again and you walked with him.

“Actually I’m going to see Maria Hill but I’ll see you later” he smiled at you with such honesty that you relaxed for the first time in all day, making your way to your destiny you noticed the front desk for Miss Potts assistant was empty and you were just on time which was as good as being late.

Without not knowing what to do, you knocked at her door.

“Come in”.

Taking a deep breath, you did it squaring your shoulders and trying to tell yourself everything would be fine.

“Good morning, Miss Potts, I hope is ok I called, there was no one and-“

“It’s completely fine” she said gesturing for you to sit in front of her and went to address your formally even if contradicted her next words “Please call me Pepper, everyone does.

There was something about her, a professionalism that was inspiring but also made her approachable and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Only if you call me by my first name too”

“It’s what you like to be called? Because Sam told me about your friend calling you Ace when he went with Sergeant Barnes to the hospital, I think it fits you” at her words it was impossible not to blush again; first of all because of the mention of Bucky, the recurrent thought of your head the last days and then because of the nickname Harper gave you.

“I mean, yeah, my friends call me that” it was an exaggeration, you only had one friend.

“Maybe we should stick to it, between me and you Pepper is not even my name but I think is perfect for me” there was something like nostalgia in her eyes but she didn’t let you think too much about it “and I like that my employees feel comfortable when we talk.”

“Excuse me, what?” it was really embarrassing how you couldn’t form a decent sentence in front of her.

“I would like you to be my assistant, Ace” she said and then your life really changed.

Bucky still could tasted you, the other you, the one who reincarnated and was born in a rich Italian family in 1950, the one that somehow found him when he was The Winter Soldier.

He wasn’t supposed to fuck you in your fiancée’s car, well ex fiancée, you couldn’t marry a dead asshole. His mind couldn’t know why he needed you that bad but his body did, Bucky was sure it was the conditioning what made him be such a caveman with you but the truth was, you were his mirror back then.

You wanted him since Lucas bragged about his connections to Hydra and how they lend him their best asset to protect the arsenal his father’s company will provided for them. Your whole attention was in the silent assassin who looked at you like you were everything he could ever want.

Lucas wasn’t great with you, his little bird, that’s why he snapped his neck and took you away, sometimes his nightmares will let him breath and remember you surrounding him, riding his cock, high in pleasure, telling him that you loved him before you both were found and he was dragged back to Hell.

As a small blessing, he didn’t remembered that while dreaming, Bucky was too lost on you, in the salty taste of your skin against his tongue when he traced the valley of your naked breasts with it.

“Give me one more, little bird” he ordered, thrusting in and out of you with an incredible skill considering the small space “drench my cock again.”

His english was perfect with you, no sign of hesitation, not remembering he wasn’t supposed to speak it so naturally when it wasn’t necessary; the Brooklyn accent showing up without effort.

“I- I can’t” you sobbed, drunk on him, your body asking for more.

“You will” his metal hand let go your neck to play with your clit, the cold metal sending you to your climax once again, taking him with you.

The softness of your skin against his was the last thing he remembered before waking up.

Harper called you when you got back home and screamed when you tell her the news; she made a joke about coming to work with you so she could see Sam Wilson every day, making you feel better. Since you convinced your parents go and have the retirement they deserved, Harper was the only one you had and she was more than what you deserved but sometimes you wished for more, for someone to go home to.

Like a fool, your mind went to Sergeant Barnes; you needed to thank him for what he did for you.

If not for him, you would have be ruined but how could someone put that in a thank you card?

Maybe you could bake something for him.

Bucky likes apple pie.

The thought came out of nowhere with an intense hint of pain between your eyebrows, what was that?

Maybe a nap would help, your new job waited for you and this was the chance you dreamed of, ruining it wasn’t an option.

When Bucky went to check on you that night, you were already sleeping in your couch, making very difficult for him to let you there. Of course he could break in and carry you to your room without waking you up but it would make you feel unsafe.

It was hard for him to go back to a civilian life, or the closest he could have, his actions needed to be careful, especially around you. It was also torture he remembered almost everything and you nothing at all, that he couldn’t tell you about that night on your porch in 1943 or your breakfast with him, Steve and the Howlies when your unit was sent to Europe and destiny brought you both together again, he couldn't tell you about that time in Italy.

Bucky wanted you to know everything but you will never believe him, in the best case you'd believe it was a joke or a proof of him losing his mind but you could also believe him dangerous –which he was- and get away from him where Bucky would not be able protect you.

Sited there in your fire escape, he started to memorize every part of you he could see through the darkness, if that was all he could have from you, he would make it be enough.

Tag list: @cjand10 @bunnyforhim @cookingdancingchick

Next chapter >>>

Hello lovelies! Sorry for bringing this short chapter, I tried to start going through their past lives but witout giving so much details so this don't gets very confusing, if it still is please tell me so I can work on it, what de you think? I'll love to read about it in the comments!

Love, Lily.

[pahtoosh]

Imagine daddy Bucky got home from an exhausting mission in the middle of the night and finding Steve (who took care of you) all cuddled up with you in their bed.

Because he didn’t want to wake any of you he decided to sleep on the couch and fell asleep before he could even get out of his work clothes.

When you wake up in the morning and realize your other daddy is back but looking so exhausted in his sleep you carefully put your favorite blanky over him and lay your best stuffy next to him to protect your daddy in his sleep.

Whit a gentle kiss on his cheek you wish him alllll the good dreams 🥺

missing Baba

masterlist

18+

wc: 1170 words

warnings: fluff. baby is whiny because they miss baba so much. written on my phone

a/n: WAAAAA MY FIRST REQUEST😭🫶💥🥰💫❤️🥹 i really hope you like this🫂

pairing: stucky x gn!little!reader (Dada = Steve, Baba = Bucky, Daddies = both Steve and Bucky)

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“Honey, I need both of my hands to cut the strawberries,” Steve sighed.

You whined and pouted some more before realizing that you weren’t going to get your way this time: your dada is one of the most stubborn men on the planet. You let out a huff and dropped Steve’s hand before walking behind him and smooshing your face to his back and clinging onto his shirt.

Steve continued his fruit preparation with his sniffling baby hanging onto him like a barnacle. Normally he’d scold you for being whiny, but you’d been having a difficult week. Bucky had to leave for a last minute mission. It was so last minute that you didn’t know about it until he was gone. You fell onto the floor in a heap of tears when you woke up and found out. Steve said Bucky gave you a kiss goodbye while you were sleeping, but that only made you cry harder. Why didn’t they wake you up? Now, your Baba was gone for an indefinite period of time and you couldn’t even call him.

Steve finished chopping and placing the last of his fruits into containers for the fridge. He might have a clingy baby on his hands, but he’s still doing his meal prep. He shuffled over to wash the dishes with you hanging onto him. When that was done, he let you hold his hand again and help him put the fruit into the fridge.

“How about we call it an early night? You wanna sleep in Dada and Baba’s bed again?”

You nodded and followed Steve to the bathroom to change into pajamas and brush your teeth.

Your dada helped you get comfortable under the covers before sliding into the other side himself. ���Do you want a bedtime story, sweetness?”

You shook your head and buried yourself into his shirt like before.

“Honey, I know you miss Baba but he’ll be back. He always comes back. Pouting and whining won’t make him come home sooner. And if you think about something other than how much you miss your Baba, the time will fly by and before you know it he’ll be home again.”

This was more or less the same spiel he’d given you a few times this week. It didn’t resonate with you then, but you were willing to give it a chance now. You were tired of being sad. You released your iron grip and looked at Steve.

“Can we read if you gibe a mouse a cookie? Please?”

Steve smiled and kissed your forehead. “Of course.”

Two books later, you and Dada conked out. You both slept so deeply that you missed the text notifications from Bucky on Steve’s phone. He had finished the mission and was on the way home.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

Bucky sprinted off the quinjet. He put off doing his debrief for another day because he missed you and Steve so much. This mission was the longest one he’d been on since your little family got together, and not getting to say a proper goodbye to you made his heart ache so much more.

He finally made it to the apartment and placed his duffel bag on the floor. It was only 10pm but your home was silent. While it was past your bedtime, he could usually hear Steve either doing chores, flipping through a book, or drawing in his sketchbook. Quietly, Bucky made his way through the apartment to find his husband and baby.

After seeing your empty room, he went next door to his and Steve’s room. His heart caught in his chest at the sight he was greeted with. Steve was laying on his back, one arm flung out and the other curled around your back. You were sleeping with half your body on Steve’s and one of your hands gripped onto his shirt, no doubt leaving a pattern of wrinkles. A couple of books were placed haphazardly on the bed as if you fell asleep halfway through reading and kicked the books away in your sleep.

Bucky chuckled at the sight and snuck a photo. He didn’t want to wake either of you, so he tiptoed out of the room and shut the door. The exhaustion from this mission was catching up to him, so he flopped onto the couch and fell asleep, tac gear and all.

When morning came, you were the first to wake up. You rubbed your eyes, frustrated at the sun for shining in the most inconvenient spot. Eventually, you got up and padded to the kitchen for a snack before breakfast. Still rubbing your eyes, you almost missed the figure on your couch. You gasped and then covered your mouth, waking Baba was like poking a sleeping bear sometimes.

The couch didn’t look very comfortable to sleep on, especially the way Bucky was doing it with all those straps and belts digging into him. You went to your bedroom and grabbed your softest blankie and Ellie the elephant. You tiptoed back to Bucky and placed Ellie in his arms and the blankie over both of them, holding your breath the whole time. You tried using all the sneaky strategies auntie Nat taught you. She didn’t tell you to leave a kiss on your target’s cheek, but it felt right.

With phase one of welcoming Baba home completed, you moved into phase two: making him a welcome home drawing.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

Steve woke up with a big yawn and a stretch. He was surprised that you weren’t in bed, but not worried. He was happy to see some of your independence coming back. He quickly got ready for the day and picked up his phone to check his emails. He practically sprinted through the hallway when he saw his texts.

“Bucky? Buck, are you home?”

Bucky groaned before half-heartedly sticking a hand in the air. “On the couch.” He wasn’t quite ready to get up so he snuggled into his oddly shaped pillow.

Steve laughed when he finally saw his partner. “So I assume the position for your cuddle buddy is already taken?”

“Huh?” Bucky blearily looked up at Steve and then down at the plastic eyes gazing into his soul.

Steve leaned down to kiss Bucky, interrupting the staring contest. “Glad to have you back, Sergeant.”

Bucky gave a crooked smile. “Glad to be back. Although it looks like one of you is more considerate of my need for sleep.”

Steve opened his mouth to tease back but was cut off by a shout and the sound of running on the hardwood floor.

“Baba! You awake!” You ran to give Bucky a hug.

“Hi, little baby. Thanks for sharing Ellie and your blankie.”

“Made you a card too, Baba!” You ran back to your bedroom and your daddies heard the sound of something falling and a small oof.

Their eyes widened in panic.

“I’m okay!” you shouted.

“I’m gonna supervise,” Steve said, already making his way down the hall.

Bucky relaxed back into the couch. It was good to be home.

[incorrectmarvelquotesss]

I don’t think we talk about dad!bucky enough on this blog. Like how’d he feeling when you tell him you’re pregnant? How was he during your birth? After? After after?

oooohhhhh we've got a lot to talk about, like too much. so much to talk about, it could be a series. let's start from the beginning though, shall we?

warnings: fluff, mentions of pregnancy, implications of sex, slight mentions of ptsd, written quickly

could be read with Day One & Day Thirteen

let's be honest, he is ecstatic to be a dad, a father, a parent when you're by his side he feels like he can be a good role model

like yeah he's been through a lot and sometimes he has nightmares and scares some people who think he's a manic or monster or whatever, but you've made him feel like he's better

like he can be a better man, even with his past haunting his dreams

so when he brings up the topic of being a father, it's a bit timid, subtle hints before the real conversation

his hints are not as subtle as he thinks though cause you pick up on the sensitive topic the third time he drops a hint

the first hint was him off-handedly complimenting a baby on your walk

"she's adorable, isn't she?" and you agreed when you looked at the baby and saw her chubby cheeks and toothless grin aimed at you with her little hands making grabby hands at the ice cream you were holding

the second hint was when he offered to babysit the kid in the house across the street

"well, we both know henry and fiona could use the break" was all he had to say when you asked about why there were three kids sitting in the living with crayons and paper littered around them

the third hint was when he held up a baby bodysuit with the words i have the best mommy written in red on white

"this is cute, isn't it?" he had asked standing in the baby aisle he had practically dragged you into. you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow and said "we need to talk when we get home"

he couldn't focus the rest of the shopping trip

he was nervous to say the least

his hands shook basically the whole time while you guys finished shopping and he even let you drive the truck cause the poor guy felt like the world was spinning underneath him

once you got home, he was a mess, but he helped carry all the bags in and then started cleaning the kitchen while you rummaged through the bags once again to check for any rips or stains you might have missed the first time

"bucky?"

he walked into the living room where you sat with a soft and gentle smile on your face

he ran back into the kitchen when you giggled at the bright pink latex gloves he had forgotten to take off

"yes, sweets?" he swallowed thickly when you beckoned him over and patted the spot next to you and turned so that you could face him

even with the smile he loved on your lips, he still couldn't meet your eyes

"look at me, buck"

that gentle tone makes his heart clench when he meets your gaze

your gentle and soft and kind and loving gaze

"do you want a baby?" your voice is so alluring

"...yeah" / "good, cause i want one too"

bucky is pulling you onto his lap so fast and wrapping his arms around you tightly and kissing your cheeks, neck, and lips

when he pulls away, he looks at you like you hung the stars

"really, sweets?" / "really, bucky" / "i love you" / "i love you more" / "there's no fucking way, can't beat me in that race, sweets"

he starts kissing you again, but you pull away too quick for his liking and he frowns

you pull out the baby bodysuit he was holding at the shop and grin

"it is very cute"

———

Taglist:

@pinkposttragedy @gen-genevieve

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Sugar Mama Chapter 2

Summary: Bucky is overworked and struggling to get by.  The bills are piling up and he’s consistently in the red with no end in sight.  Y/N is a billionaire’s daughter, entrepreneur and philanthropist having a hard time finding true friends or love.  She has a proposition for him.

bucky barnes x curvy!reader Warnings: eventual smut, sexual assault (not from Bucky)

Previous chapter Next chapter

The next day he called the number on Y/N’s business card.  A woman named Pepper, her assistant, answered and made an appointment for him to come to her penthouse apartment on Sunday at 7 p.m.  He had that day off from his multiple jobs for once, but instead of resting he was stressing about the meeting all day.  He barely slept with how nervous he was, going through his closet over and over again to figure out what would be best to wear and pacing around his tiny studio apartment.

When the time came to leave he got a text from an unknown number saying a car was waiting for him outside.  He peered out his window to find a black town car at the curb.  He laughed at just how strange this all was.  The ride was awkward and quiet, and once they reached her building the driver instructed him where to go.  He followed their instructions until he found himself leaving the elevator and entering into a large sitting room with a wall of windows showcasing the Manhattan skyline.  He gaped at the sunset hovering over the buildings, brilliant oranges and pinks peaking through the windows and streets.  He looked around the room at the high end furniture and art pieces on the wall.  Whoever designed the apartment had obviously been given an open budget as he recognized some of the items that he could only dream of using on his design boards.

“Bucky!  Good evening,” Y/N’s voice rang out around the corner.  Bucky followed her voice until he entered the kitchen.  It was huge, with appliances that a Michelin chef would die for.  Y/N was standing in front of the island in the middle, making sandwiches, dressed in a sweater and sweatpant set that was black and spotted with yellow smiley faces and matching slippers on her feet.  She looked so small and casual compared to all the other large and grand things in the apartment that it made him smile through his nervousness.

“Hello, Miss Y/L/N, good evening,” he greeted her back, standing awkwardly at the entrance to the kitchen.

“None of that, just call me Y/N.  You’re not allergic to anything are you?” she asked suddenly, her hands stilling over the food.

“No, nothing that I know of, anyway,” he quickly assured her.

“Do you like chicken or ham?” she smiled and turned back to the sandwiches, cutting a tomato and layering meat and cheese on one.

“Ham is fine, thank you,” he answered, smiling back at her.  She finished the sandwich and slid the plate over to him, gesturing for him to sit down on one of the stools by the island.  He caught it and gave her a quiet thanks as he sat before taking a bite.  She watched his reaction, and when he hummed in satisfaction she smiled again and went back to finishing her sandwich then hopping up on the counter to sit.

“There’s all kinds of drinks in the fridge, you’re welcome to whatever you’d like,” she gestured towards it behind her.

“Oh sure, thank you,” he said around another bite and walked to the fridge, opening it to find what looked like a full grocery store inside.  He quickly chose a water bottle and went back to the island.

“Did you like the crab cakes and risotto?”

Bucky’s eyes rolled back dramatically, making her laugh. “Oh yeah, still definitely my favorite, best thing on the menu there, in my opinion.  Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, giving him a lopsided grin.  “So, I’m sure you’re just dying to get this weird conversation over with,” she teased him as she took a bite.

Bucky chuckled as he finished chewing.  “Honestly, yes.  I’ve been very nervous all day.”

“Let’s just dive right in, shall we?  Have you ever been a sugar baby before?”

Bucky took a sharp breath and huffed it out.  “No, I haven’t.  Um, what exactly would it entail, if I said yes?”

“What are you hesitant about?” she queried, watching him intently.

“Uh, I guess, um,” he cleared his throat and decided to take a quick drink of water.  “So, I give you, what, companionship?  And you pay for things for me?”

“In a nutshell, yes.  It’s a mutually beneficial relationship,” Y/N answered matter-of-factly.

“So what kind of companionship are you, uh, looking for?” he asked hesitantly.  “I’ve heard of these kinds of things starting out okay but then becoming, um…”

“Sexual?” she finished for him.  He nodded.  “I don’t expect sex from you, Bucky.”  He let out the breath that he didn’t realize he was holding.  “I also wouldn’t be opposed to it, if the relationship organically led to that, but otherwise no, I don’t expect sex or sexual favors from you.”  She set aside her sandwich for a moment as she faced him.  

“My reason for doing this is because I have friends, plenty of friends, but those friendships have all been born out of those people wanting something from me.  Money, connections, for me to invest in their business, using my name as a way to get ahead, get in contact with my father, and so on.  It’s very hard to find real friendship, let alone anything more romantic.  And I know buying someone’s time isn’t exactly normal or the best way to get it, but it’s my last resort, really,” she finished, her eyes looking sad as she took another bite of her sandwich.

Bucky felt bad for her.  She had all the money and resources open to her and yet she was still lonely.  This big fancy apartment with just her in it.  

“Anyways, I’d like companionship.  Someone to come home to, to take with me as a date to events, spend time with on the weekends, go to parties with, maybe get a good cuddle or some hugs, just a friend.  And if something more were to ever grow from that, then great!  But that’s what I’d like.  You would of course be free to go spend time with other friends and family, I wouldn’t keep you prisoner here,” she joked.

Bucky snorted at that as he finished his sandwich.  “Okay, and what about my jobs?”

“Jobs?  How many do you have?” Y/N’s head jerked up at the question, a look of concern in her eyes.

“Three right now,” he answered nonchalantly.

“Three?!” she sputtered.  “Jesus, Bucky, no wonder you look so tired.”

“Tell me about it,” Bucky sighed as he took another drink.  

“Do you want to keep any of them?” 

“Um…I’d like to keep my main one.  I went to college for architecture and interior design, and during normal working hours I work for Joaquin Torres in Soho, so I’d like to keep doing that,” he explained.

“Oh yes, Joaquin!  I worked with him a few years back.  Architecture and interior design, huh?  I’d love to see your work,” she said excitedly, her eyes brightening.  

“I’d love that,” he smiled genuinely at her interest.  “But yes, I’d like to keep that one, if that’s okay?”

“Of course.”

“Alright, um…and money?” He felt so strange asking for money.  

“I’ll need a list of your debts, and I’d like you to break your lease and come live here.  I’ll cover any fees that come with that process, including for movers if you have anything big needing to be moved.  You’ll have your own room, your own space.  As for payment, you’ll get a weekly allowance of $5000 that you’re free to spend or save however you want, and if you need or want anything else or more, we can talk about it,” she rattled off.  “I’d like to take care of you, Bucky.  I’d like you to feel comfortable, and hopefully help make your life better.”

Bucky could feel the tears welling up in his eyes as she laid out the benefits to him.  His debts paid, living in this beautiful apartment, with a beautiful woman, getting paid $5000 a week, getting to keep his job and possibly get new opportunities just for being in her inner circle.  

“Oh Buck, don’t cry,” she jumped down from the counter suddenly and walked over to him, her hands reaching for his face and brushing away the tears that fell.  “Please tell me those are at least happy tears?” she pleaded as her fingers stroked the sides of his face.

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” he sniffled, “it’s just, really generous, Y/N.  I feel like all that just for my company and friendship isn’t fair.”

“It is an unbalanced dynamic, I agree.  But I promise that’s all I want from you, Bucky.  All the money in the world means nothing without having someone to share it with,” she gave him a smile then let go of his face and reached for his hands.  He gave them to her to hold and she rubbed his knuckles with her thumbs.  “So…is that a yes?” she asked hopefully.

Bucky scoffed, “Well yeah, I’d be pretty stupid to say no, wouldn’t I?”

“Not necessarily,” Y/N scoffed back at him.  “I want this to be an enthusiastic yes, with no hesitation or reservations.  So I’ll ask again, is that a yes?”

Bucky took a moment to look at her, really look at her.  She was sincere, with hopeful eyes and a determined set of her lips.  He would be dumb to refuse, but he also didn’t want to refuse.  He had no reason to. He wanted this.  There was a small part of him deep down that hungrily thought, I want her.  He pushed that away as he nodded his head.

“Yes, I say yes.”

“Yay!” Y/N cheered, jumping up and down a little and shaking his hands in hers.  He laughed at her and squeezed her hands.

“Would it be weird if I hugged you?” Bucky asked. 

“I’d love a hug,” Y/N said, opening her arms up to him.

He stepped into her embrace, her arms around his waist and his arms around her upper body.  She nuzzled her face into his chest, breathing him in as he squeezed her.  He felt like he was taking a breath of fresh air as she held him, one of her hands rubbing up and down his back.  They stayed like that for a few long minutes, neither of them seeming to want to let go.

“So when can you move in?” she murmured against his chest.

“Maybe this Friday?  After work?  That way I can pack and get some things in order…quit a couple of jobs.”

“Yes, quit those jobs,” she agreed as she turned her face up towards him.  “We’ll get you moved in on Friday night and then binge watch a show and eat all the pizza we can.  Get to know each other.  Sound good?”

He could just kiss her with how sweet she was being.  “Sounds perfect,” he agreed.

***

The week seemed to trudge on for Bucky.  He and Y/N had exchanged phone numbers and were constantly texting each other.  She would check up on him, ask him how his day was going, if he needed help with anything, getting the list of his debts and lenders, making sure he ate and would randomly have food and drinks sent to his apartment.  He had packed his small amount of things within two days and put his furniture up for sale on a local apartment sales site, making a few hundred dollars on the side.  Y/N had called his landlord and figured out the fees for breaking his lease early, so all he had to do was go to work, come home, pack whatever he had left, and wait for Friday.  Quitting his other two jobs had been incredibly freeing, and he wasn’t sure what to do with himself with all the free time he now had after 5 p.m.

On Thursday night he invited Steve over for one last hurrah in his apartment.  “I can’t believe you’re moving.  What was this job you got again?  Wanda was being really weird about it the other day and told me to talk to you,” Steve questioned him.

“I’m still working at the interior design firm, I just don’t have to work the other two now,” he was mum about it, not sure how Steve would react.

“That’s not actually answering my question, Buck,” Steve exasperatedly sighed.  “What’s going on?”

“Okay, just don’t judge me,” Bucky warned him.  Steve gave him an unimpressed look and sat on the floor where the loveseat used to be.  Bucky sat across from him as they ate the Chinese food Y/N had delivered to his apartment.  “I served some pretty wealthy people last Friday night, when I covered your shift?”  Steve nodded.  “One of them was Y/N Y/L/N.”  Steve’s eyes widened.  “Yeah!  She was super cool.  When it came time to pay she wanted to talk to me.  She asked me to, uh…to be her sugar baby.”

“She asked WHAT?!” Steve started laughing uncontrollably, clutching at his chest and falling over.

“I said don’t judge me!” Bucky yelled at him, throwing a dumpling at him.

“I’m not, I just, ha!  And you obviously said yes, cuz you’re moving, and quit two of your jobs!  Haha!” Steve was rolling on the floor as he started crying from laughing so hard.  “No no, Bucky, I mean it’s weird but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do, right?” He kept giggling. 

Bucky glared at him.  “She’s going to be paying me $5000 a week.”

Steve immediately stopped laughing as he gawked at Bucky.  “What?”

“She’s moving me into her penthouse apartment.  She’s going to pay off my debt.”

“Uh…what are you doing to get these kinds of benefits Buck?” Steve was suddenly serious, his eyebrows hung low over his eyes as he sat up.

“Keeping her company.  Literally giving her companionship.  Friendship.  That’s it.”

“Oh come on, Buck, that can’t be it.”

“That is it.”

“No way, dude, she’s gotta expect something more in the end,” Steve accused.  “Did you already have sex with her?  Now she’s gonna keep you as her plaything?”

“What?  Ew, Steve, god no,” Bucky grimaced at his friend.  “Look, she’s hot, I like her, but no I haven’t slept with her.  If it happens in the future then hey, why not?  But she doesn’t expect sex from me.  This isn’t that kind of thing,” he promised him.  “She literally just wants a friend.”

Steve analyzed him, trying to see if there was a lie hidden in his explanation.  When he didn’t find anything he sighed again.  “Okay, man.  Look if you feel good about it and think it’s a good idea, then go for it.  I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I won’t,” Bucky said resolutely.  “It’ll be okay.  Hey, I’ll see if I can get you and Peg to come with us as a double date or something.  She mentioned having season tickets for the Yankees?”

Steve brightened at this news.  “The Yankees, huh?  Double dating with a billionaire’s daughter,” he mused.  “Peggy’s kind of a fan of hers.”

“It’ll be great, Steve.  You don’t need to worry about me,” Bucky said, clapping his friend on the shoulder.  “But I appreciate it.”

***

Bucky practically ran home after work was over that Friday.  He was ready to go, not needing any movers, with just a couple of bags of things he owned.  He grabbed his stuff, left the key in the slot of the landlord’s mailbox, and walked outside to the already waiting town car.  The driver helped him load his things in and sped off towards the penthouse.

He took the elevator ride back up to her place.  The doors opened and revealed Y/N standing there, her arms crossed, shifting from one foot to the other and fighting a smile on her face.

“Honey!  I’m home!” Bucky announced as he stepped in with a wide smile on his face.

Y/N laughed as he dropped his bags at their feet.  “Welcome home, Buck,” she greeted him, opening her arms for a hug.  He happily accepted it and gave her a tight squeeze.  “Come on, let’s get you settled in.”

They spent a good portion of the night getting Bucky unpacked into his room and making a list of anything else he may need to get fully moved in.  Afterwards she ordered pizza and drinks and pulled out all the snacks she had in the pantry.  Once the food arrived they binge-watched a few different shows, talking about their favorites, then altogether forgetting about the TV as they got to know each other better.  

“Steve is my best friend.  We’ve known each other since we were little kids.  When his parents died my mom took him in and then when she died, he helped me get through it,” he shared.

“What about your dad?” Y/N asked.

“Oh, he was in and out of the picture.  Always nice enough, but he just wasn’t the fatherly type.  I haven’t seen or spoken to him since mom died, and it’s better that way,” he said, looking away from her intense gaze.  “But what about you?  Any traumatic childhood experiences?”

She chuckled at his dark humor.  “It was just me and my dad.  My mom was only in it for the money with him.  I was her pretty doll to dress up, her pawn to get as much child support and alimony as possible.  Once I turned 18 she had a mental breakdown knowing she’d lose a big portion of the payout she’d been getting, and I’ve kept my distance since then,” Y/N looked away as well.  “She’ll call me sometimes, always asking for money.  The alimony would last her the rest of her life if she’d stop gambling and hoarding.”

“Jesus,” Bucky murmured.  He reached a hand out and intertwined his fingers with the hand closest to him.  She gave him an appreciative smile.

“It’s okay, I’m fine,” she reassured him.  “It is what it is.”  They sat silently for a moment, digesting the not-so-fun topic.  “Anyways, I’d love to meet Steve, he sounds great.”

“Oh yeah, I told him we’d have to double date some time.  He and his girlfriend Peggy went to that new burlesque club and loved it.”

“Did they?  Oh good, I’m glad.  That place was a labor of love, I tell ya,” Y/N giggled.  “But I love the art of burlesque.  Have you ever been to one?”

“No, I haven’t.  I’d like to,” Bucky said truthfully.

“We’ll go tomorrow.  You should invite your friends.  I’ll get us all in.  It’ll be fun,” she smiled again, patting his hand and then standing up and cleaning up some of the trash.  

“Let me help,” Bucky said as he stood and grabbed the pizza boxes.

The night wound down and they talked some more until it was nearly midnight and Y/N’s eyes began to droop.  “Y/N, you gotta get to bed,” Bucky poked her arm as her head began to loll to the side on the couch.  

“What?  No, I’m fine,” Y/N said groggily.  

“Come on…let’s get you to bed,” Bucky coaxed her, standing up and pulling her up by her arms.

“Oh, alright,” she agreed, then wrapped her arms around his waist.  “Guide me.”

“Oh god,” Bucky laughed, then started waddling his way towards the bedrooms beyond the kitchen.  Y/N was walking backwards, keeping a firm grip on his waist so as not to trip and fall, giggling every once in a while as they swayed towards her room.

As he walked into her room he led her over to the edge of her bed.  “Come on, you, we made it,” he said as he tried to push her off.

“But you’re so comfy,” she complained, her hug tightening on him again.

“And so are you, but you’re falling asleep,” he tried to pull her arms apart from behind him.  In the process they lost their balance and both fell onto her bed, Bucky catching himself on his elbows at the last minute before he squashed her.  She laughed as her hands flew up to his chest to help stop him.  He laughed as well, his head falling to her shaking shoulder.  As the laughter died down they stared at each other, their faces within inches of each other, the air around them shifting quickly.  

“Sorry,” Bucky blinked, breaking the spell. 

“It’s okay, it was my fault,” Y/N whispered as her eyes looked back and forth between his eyes.  “You know you have the prettiest eyes?”

Bucky huffed a laugh, his breath fanning her face.  “That’s funny, cuz I think you have the prettiest eyes.”

“I’m being serious, Buck,” she whined, then held back a yawn.

“Yeah, okay, time to sleep,” Bucky said as he lifted himself up.  Y/N sat upright on her bed as he stood before her.  “Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight Bucky.  If you need anything I’ll be here,” she reminded him, giving him a sleepy smile.

“Alright, sleep well.”

“You, too.”

Bucky gave her one more smile before turning and leaving for his room next door.  As he got ready for bed and settled into his new bed he sat and looked around him.  The room alone was larger than his previous apartment.  He was in a king size bed, his clothes in a mid century modern dresser that cost more than his rent inside a walk-in closet and a full bathroom with all the amenities one could ever want or need.  Another smile spread across his face as he tried to accept that this was now his life.  He didn’t know how long this was going to last, or what this weird relationship would be like even a year from now, but he was extremely grateful to Y/N for helping him at his lowest.

**I'm not sure the best way to tag people who requested to be tagged? I'm still pretty new to posting like this on Tumblr so please be patient with me. But I'm happy y'all are liking it so far!**

[sjsmith56]

Letting Go

Summary: Bucky is critically injured, trapped in a building destroyed by a bomb. He orders his team to leave him behind but they refuse and Peter calls for help. It comes from several sources.

Length: 5.4 K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker, Scott Lang, Hope Van Dyne, Wanda Maximoff, with cameos by other Avengers, named OFC (seen in flashbacks).

Warnings: Bucky injured, feeling unworthy, accepting death, good and bad memories, medical emergency.

Author notes: Believe it or not I dreamed the first part of this and wrote down a summary as soon as I woke up so I wouldn’t forget it. This one shot imagines a post-FATWS Avengers that brings in several of the newer characters as well as some older ones. Thunderbolts* and Captain America: Brave New World have not happened.

⏳ ⌛️

If he had to do it all over again, Bucky would have made the same decision. Leading a mission with the newest Avengers under his supervision, meant that he felt responsible for their safety. It was his choice to enter the building first, assessing the risk before they came in with him. Just as it was his choice to tell them to leave him behind after the bomb went off, an event that sent tons of debris raining down on him. Now, as he laid injured in the dark, with his metal arm twisted and lodged behind him and both his legs broken he knew he wasn't getting out alive. Those who had worked with him before, specifically Peter and Yelena, begged him not to make them leave but he made it clear.

"There is nothing you can do for me," he said, with what he hoped was finality. "It's too risky for even a sorcerer and with Dr. Strange off somewhere in the multiverse I don't think he can activate the time stone and reverse this."

He stopped for a moment to cough, feeling the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, likely from bleeding internally.

"Bucky?" asked Peter over the comms. "What about Cara?"

Cara ... his girlfriend of 8 months that he planned to propose to. This would devastate her, but she knew the risks, being a SHIELD employee herself.

"Tell her I love her and that I'm sorry," he replied, then he refused to answer his comms after that.

Outside the team sat, despondent. Shaun, Joaquin, Kate, Yelena, and Peter looked at each other, feeling sick inside. Then Peter strode into the quinjet and asked Friday to patch him through to the Avengers compound.

"Sam? We need help." He filled him in on what happened and what Bucky ordered them to do, explaining none of them wanted to leave. "We don't leave a team member behind. I don't care if he made it an order. It's not right."

As Sam listened to Peter, he got Carol Danvers' attention. After listening to the gist of the conversation between him and Peter, she asked Friday to alert the remaining Avengers to suit up. She also asked Friday to contact Wong, thinking they were going to need some magic to rescue Bucky.

"Peter, stay there," he said. "We're on our way and you're right, no matter what, we don't leave a team member behind."

⏳ ⌛️

It's strange where your mind takes you when it's the only thing still working. Practically immobilized in the dark, close confines of what Bucky accepted was his tomb, he thought back over his life. The first twenty years went by fast, not surprising considering it was so long ago and he wasn't even sure he had regained all those memories back. He thought of his mother's hands. Not an unusual thing because they were always busy. Housewives in the 1920s and 1930s were always on the go and his mother was no different; washing clothes by hand, ironing everything, including the sheets, cooking, baking, darning, soothing a fevered brow when he was sick, tying his necktie the first time he wore one. He sighed at how much he missed her, wished he had been able to see her just once before .... If he had just been man enough to tell her he loved her before he left for England, the last time he saw her, or Dad, or Rebecca when she was still young. At least he saw his sister again before she died. That meant something.

Then he thought of Cara, a bright moment in his life when he met her, although he didn't think so at the time. He had returned from a mission and forgot about the comms pieces that were still in the front chest pocket of his tactical suit, given to the staff responsible for cleaning them, and repairing any damage done to them. Taking his time in the locker room by having a long, hot shower, then getting dressed at his own pace, he was surprised to see a strange woman waiting for him outside the door.

"Sergeant Barnes?" she asked, looking him in the eye, even though she was a good six inches shorter than him. "I'm Comm Tech Laskey. You were supposed to return your comms pieces on your return."

"I thought I did," he answered.

"No, Sergeant." She checked the small tablet in her hand. "You returned your weapons to the armoury, and your tactical suit to Uniform Maintenance for cleaning and repair but the person taking in communications equipment didn't check them off and there is no sign of them. Until they are returned, you're financially responsible."

"You're kidding, right?" She stared at him. "I guess I left them in my tactical suit. Why don't you go there?"

"Not my responsibility."

"Listen, Laskey, is it? I'm tired and hungry and really need a beer. Can't you just go check for me this one time and see if they're in my uniform? I promise I'll make it up to you and that it will never happen again."

"This one time?" She looked at her tablet again. "You used that excuse four times on my predecessor. She left me notes on not taking you at your word. I don't want to know how you made it up to her, but I'm not her and think that you asking me to do your job is taking advantage of your position. Now, I can either declare them missing and have you invoiced, or you can go right now to find them and bring them to me in Communications. Those are your options, Sergeant. I'll give you 10 minutes."

She turned around and walked away, not looking back even once. He watched her, wondering why the previous tech left. He had made it up to Marin, taking her for drinks at least once. Laskey had to be wrong that he didn't turn in his comms equipment four times. It wasn't that many times, was it? With a sigh, he headed towards Uniform Maintenance, explained his problem, and was given his suit to examine. The earpieces were still in his front chest pocket.

"Good thing you came now, Sarge," said the cleaner. "Was just going to process your suit. It would have wrecked those. Someone told me those are worth 5 grand a pair."

He looked at the two small earpieces in his hand, not believing they cost that much. Returning to the communications department, he entered, looking for Laskey but he didn't see her. Seeing a guy sitting in front of several computer monitors in a secure room he knocked on the window. The guy flipped a switch to speak with him.

"Yes, Sergeant, what can I do for you?"

"I'm here to return my comms pieces to Comm Tech Laskey," he said, holding up the two comms pieces.

"She's gone for the evening," said the guy, Martino. "She waited for you then said your 10 minutes was up. Sorry, you'll have to give them to her tomorrow. I'm not authorized to unlock the door so I can't receive them."

A rumble above him interrupted his train of thought and he strained to see what was happening in the darkness. Then a large piece of debris shifted, landing on his right arm. He could hear the snap as the pain of his arm being broken shot up from his forearm, making him scream in agony. Fuck, he was completely trapped now, every part of him broken or pinned in place.

"Bucky?" Peter's voice was in his comms piece. "Was that you?"

"I ordered you to go," he gritted out between clenched teeth. "Why are you still here?"

"We're not leaving you behind," said Yelena. "Help is coming."

"What did you do?"

"We called for help and it's coming," replied Peter. "Now, what's your status?"

"Damn it," muttered Bucky. "I gave you an order."

"Yeah, and I ignored it," answered the younger man. "You can discipline me later. Now, what's your status, Bucky?"

Angrily, he breathed several times then calmed himself. "Both legs broken, my metal arm is pinned behind my back, and I can't move it, and that scream was my right arm being broken by a piece of debris landing on it. I can taste blood coming up into my throat, so I likely have internal bleeding. The building is unstable, Peter. They won't be able to do anything."

"You let them figure that out," said the younger man. "Don't give up yet, Bucky. Please."

He closed his eyes, unnecessary in the dark but it was the only thing he could still do in the circumstances. He felt as helpless as he did when he came to after falling from the train. Everything was broken then, except for his left arm, which was gone. It was true he survived that, and the hypothermia that should have killed him, if he didn't already have the serum flowing through his veins. But something told him that this time the serum wouldn't be enough to keep him alive.

The sad thing was that he was okay with it. He really was. He was older than he had a right to be, had done terrible things that had sent other men to death row for less. His defence of involuntary mind control and torture was accepted for his pardon, but that was little comfort to the families of those he killed. Even though he made his amends a big part of him always felt that he got away with murder. That was the same part of him that was telling him to let go, to accept that this time, he had to pay the piper. Why couldn't Peter just obey orders?

You know why.

Great, now he was hearing a voice in his head, and it wasn't coming from the comms.

"Why?" he whispered, not wanting the others to hear him.

He had to watch Tony Stark die, then his Aunt May. Don't you think if he left you behind to die that it would hurt him as much as those deaths did?

"I don't mean that much to him. I barely talk to him."

You mean more to him than you know, Bucky, and he means more to you than you realize.

He had nothing to say to that because he couldn't see it. Peter was still a kid, living in Queens, trying to get the marks to be accepted into engineering at college, while still patrolling the streets at night and being an Avenger.

You don't see it, do you?

"See what?" asked Bucky, out loud.

"What did you say, Bucky? Are you okay?"

"Sorry, just thinking out loud," he replied to Peter. "Has your help arrived yet?"

"No, but they'll be here in a couple of minutes. They're just getting some things sorted out first."

Bucky closed his eyes again and tried to calm his mind.

You're a survivor, Bucky. Peter looks up to you, because you went through hell, and you survived it. You're a good leader who treats everyone with respect like the sergeant you are. You're fair, firm, and you make sure that everyone knows their job before you take them on a mission. If anyone gets hurt, you're the first one there, the first one to assure them that they'll be okay. He admires you for that. So do the others.

A scoff erupted from Bucky's lips, causing him to cough and he tasted blood again. Personally, he didn't want to believe what that inner voice was telling him. He barely said anything to the younger ones. They were always on their phones, or playing video games; silly pastimes in his mind. Still, Peter helped him set up his smartphone without making him feel stupid or out of touch. It still impressed him that the kid was stronger than him, even though he was a lot shorter and lighter than Bucky.

He often reminds you of Steve, doesn't he? Except without the anger. Orphan, living on his own on a shoestring budget, until you and Sam convinced him to live at the tower. He helps people who have been pushed around, and you admire his mind, because it reminds you of you, when you were younger and still had hopes of college.

Well, maybe there was some truth in all of that but as far as Bucky was concerned, it wasn't enough to warrant Peter disobeying a direct order and bringing in help. He probably called Sam, first. He wasn't looking forward to that conversation.

"Bucky? How you doing, man?"

Well, shit, speak of the devil.

"Sam. I assume Peter gave you a status report, so I won't repeat myself. I don't think I'm getting out of this one."

"You let us assess the situation before we make that decision. I've got Carol, Thor, Wong, Hope, and Scott here. Bruce, Dr. Cho, and a couple of paramedics are on standby to treat your injuries. We've set up a little trauma centre just to stabilize you before we transport you to the tower."

"The building is really unstable, Sam. Whatever you do can make it worse for me."

"Buck, we know." Sam's voice was more serious. "We've got a couple of structural engineers here to determine the best way to get that debris pile off of you. Hope and Scott are going to fly in and try to get into your space to make a scan of your situation. Then we'll make a plan of action. We're not leaving you behind, you hear?"

Despite his stoic acceptance of his fate, Bucky couldn't help the little sob that erupted from his throat. It took a lot to get his single word answer out.

"Okay."

He didn't know how long it was before he was aware he wasn't alone. A small light approached him in the darkness, revealing Hope carrying Scott. She had a light on one arm with a small scanner on the other, while Scott carried the same sort of scanner. She hovered over Bucky's face and flipped her face shield up, making her face visible to him.

"Hey, Buck," she said. "Scott is going to stand on your chest. If it hurts, you let us know. While he scans this pocket, I'm going to your sides and underneath to scan there. Just relax. Sorry, I know you can't really do that."

He nodded his head slightly, but didn't say anything. As she left, Scott activated the light on his arm.

"I'm not too heavy for you, am I?" he asked as he began to laser scan the space Bucky was trapped in.

"No, it's not too heavy," replied Bucky. "I'm sorry to bring you in here. I don't think much can be done for me."

"Well, it's easy to feel that way when you're the one who's trapped." Scott looked back at him. "Understandably so but it always amazes me that even in the most backward areas, when there's a landslide or an earthquake and people get trapped that they are still able to rescue people with just their bare hands. We have a full team out there and a couple of cranes setting up to lift debris off from above you. It's kind of like a 3D jigsaw puzzle or more likely a house of cards that we're taking apart, without destabilizing it. It's challenging but with the right moves and respect for the task, it can be done. I have faith in us, Bucky. You just have to trust us to do our jobs. Your only job is to hang on."

"I don't know how much longer I can do that." Scott turned so he could see Bucky's face. "I'm bleeding internally. If it's bad enough I don't know if the serum can heal it before I bleed out."

"Do your best."

There was no answer from the former assassin for a while as Scott continued scanning. He kept checking on Bucky's face, making sure he was still conscious. Turning towards Bucky's face after a few moments, Scott noticed that he had relaxed completely, and his eyes were closed. Putting the scanner down he moved closer and tapped Bucky's cheek.

"Hey, Buck, you still with me?"

A small groan followed by his eyes trying to open was his answer. He was slipping away.

"Sam! He's losing consciousness. What do I do?"

He could hear Bruce and Helen discussing what could be done to bring him back. They all involved Hope flying back, getting a stimulant in an injector, then bringing it back and jamming it into Bucky's neck but it might not be in time and the effect wouldn't be enough if they didn't enlarge the injector. Then Scott thought that perhaps a pain stimulus would work.

"Hope! Get up here, I need you," called Scott. She appeared from the side moments later. "Sting him. He's losing consciousness and I figured a pain stimulus would bring him back. I don't have anything on me, but you do with your stingers. It won't hurt him, but he should feel it."

"Do it," said Bruce, who had been listening in. "It's the only thing we've got to offer and it's better than nothing."

Aiming at Bucky's cheek, Hope fired on him. The response was minimal, so she did it again and this time Bucky opened his eyes.

"That hurt," he mumbled. "What did you do?"

"Sorry, Buck," she answered. "You were passing out and we need to keep you conscious. I stung you."

"Cut it out." Then he grinned lightly. "It's okay. You did what you had to."

She returned to scanning underneath while Scott continued his scan. He looked at Bucky frequently, not wanting to miss the signs of him passing out again. Then he cleared his throat.

"Buck?" He could feel the super soldier's eyes on him. "I've heard you wanted to get into engineering when you were young. You know I'm an electrical engineer by training. What field were you interested in?"

"Mechanical," answered Bucky. "I was always interested in how things work and worked a lot on engines. But the Depression pretty much wiped out any chance of going to college. I quit school to work on the docks. It didn't require a lot of thought, but it paid the bills."

"What about Steve? What was he into?"

"Art. He could draw anything. He spent a year in art school then ran out of money to continue." Bucky was silent for a moment. "So, you left engineering to become Ant Man?"

"Not exactly," replied Scott. "I worked for a corporation that was robbing its customers and kind of stole from them to give back to the people they were stealing from. One thing led to another, I got caught and I spent a few years in prison. Couldn't get a job when I got out, then I got involved with Hank Pym, became Ant Man and here I am."

"You did prison time." The disbelief was strong in Bucky's voice as he always thought Lang was a bit of a softy.

"Yeah, I managed. I kept my head down, didn't rat anyone out, tried to stay pleasant. It seemed to work. It's where I met Luis ... you've met Luis, haven't you?"

"The guy that can't shut up? Yeah, he's hilarious."

"Hey, he's been a good friend and has had my back whenever I've needed him. That's worth a lot in this world."

Bucky felt bad about being dismissive. By everything he had heard about Luis, he had been a good friend to Scott, helping him bring in some dangerous people.

"I guess he's kind of your Steve in that you watch out for each other." He watched as Scott continued scanning. "It's good to have someone like that in your life."

"Like Sam. I know on the surface that you two are always bugging each other, but he'd drop everything to help you and so would you." Bucky grunted. "Don't deny it. It's why you're partners."

"Co-workers."

Scott laughed. "Okay, have it your way." He finished his scan and came close so that Bucky could see him. "Right now, that co-worker is looking over the results of my scan and figuring out with the others where to start saving your life. Hope, are you done?"

"Yes, I've already transmitted the data." She was quiet for a moment. "You know, Scott, I think with a little nudge we can help Bucky free his left arm. I just need to size up slightly and raise him enough so that he can pull it free. Bucky, do you want to give it a try?"

They cleared it with Sam, who, along with the others, was looking at the scans. There was concern that they could destabilize the debris pile, but Bruce was also concerned that Bucky had already lost consciousness briefly. Scott pointed out that with both of them there, they could enlarge themselves quickly enough to push the debris aside and open up access to Bucky. It wouldn't be pretty, but it could get him out sooner.

"Remember, I did it at the compound after Thanos blew us up and we were buried underground," he said. "We won't let him get hurt any further."

"Alright," said Sam. "Do it, but be prepared for both of you to go giant sized."

Hope returned to an open spot below Bucky, while Scott remained on his chest, although he changed his footing somewhat so that if he went large, he wouldn't step on the super soldier. She counted down from three, then Bucky could feel his body lift slightly, and then a slight tug on his left arm. It moved a little, then he felt more pressure on his back as Hope pushed him further up. Suddenly, his arm was free and by his side. He flexed his hand, then the pressure beneath him eased as Hope shrank down.

"It's free," he said. "Thanks."

Then everything went black and silent.

"Guys, what's going on?" asked Bucky. "Where are you?"

"It's okay, Bucky," said a familiar female voice.

A red glow appeared near him, and he saw Wanda, sitting cross-legged in the dark with him.

"Wanda? What are you doing here? It's dangerous."

"You're not trapped, Bucky," she answered, in her soft melodious voice. "At least, the inner you isn't. Your body is and right now, Scott and Hope are trying to revive you while the others are ready to have them go giant size just to get you out of there. I just wanted a chance to talk to you face to face before they wake you up. I've been with you since you first were trapped."

"That was your voice in my head, wasn't it?" he asked. "You know how I feel about that."

"I know, and I'm sorry for invading your privacy but I hated that you seemed to have given up. The younger Avengers were so upset when you told them to leave you behind. I felt their distress. Shame on you for not thinking that you're worth it."

"You know what I was and what I did."

"I know because I did things that were just as bad or worse; things that I'm truly sorry for." She was right beside him now, red tendrils of light snaking off her body and dissipating into the dark. "You've done a lot of good since HYDRA and have more than paid back your dues. You're respected, people care about you, and someone loves you very much."

"Cara will move on," he replied. "She deserves better."

"Hmmm," she voiced. Then she brought up an image of Cara in the air. "She doesn't think so. In her eyes, you're someone who makes her feel like she's the most beautiful woman in the world. Let's continue with the memory of when you first met her. I was enjoying that until the building fell on your right arm."

The morning after he tried to return the comms pieces, Bucky got up early and waited outside the office, until the first staff member came in, Cara Laskey herself.

"I have the comms pieces," said Bucky. "I tried to return them last night, but you had already gone."

She unlocked the door without comment, then went to the counter and pulled out a form. Putting her hand out to Bucky, she examined the two earpieces, then wrote a note on the form before turning it towards him and handing him a pen.

"Sign here. You're accepting any penalties that might have accrued for the late return of classified equipment. I'll submit this to the supervisor, and you'll be hearing what the penalty is."

He looked at her, dumbfounded. "You're kidding, right? I just handed them to you. It wasn't my fault that it took me longer than 10 minutes to get to Uniform Maintenance, explain why I needed my suit and then go through the pockets before returning here to find you already gone. This is bullshit."

"Sergeant Barnes, may I remind you that there is a code of conduct in place governing interactions between frontline and support staff. I don't have to take this kind of verbal abuse from you."

He ran his hand over his face, breathing heavily, then he looked down at her, noticing for the first time, she had flecks of gold in her hazel irises.

"You're right, I apologize," he said. "I would just like to ask respectfully, that you verify that I was here to return the items last night, then was here first thing in the morning to return them. Considering that I made every effort to get here on time, I just object to a penalty being assessed arbitrarily. Surely, there must be some leeway, in the spirit of inter-departmental cooperation."

A small smile graced Laskey's face, then she looked down at the form, picked it up and put it through the paper shredder.

"Since you put it that way and asked so nicely, I'll make an exception this time," she said. "Just don't forget them again."

"That was smooth," said Wanda. "So how did you get from inter-departmental cooperation to wanting to ask her to marry you?"

"I wish I knew," said Bucky. "It just seemed that I saw her more around the compound. It was formal between us at first; she called me Sergeant Barnes and I called her Comm Tech Laskey. Then I stepped outside one night and she was changing her tire. It went flat during the day, and she was having a hard time getting it done in the dark as the light above where she parked had burnt out. I offered to help if she lit up the scene with her phone flashlight. We talked and found we liked some things in common. I told her to call me Bucky and she said to call her Cara." He smiled. "We began having coffee together, worked out together, and then I'd wait for her to finish work to see if she wanted to join us for drinks."

His voice trailed off as he thought about them meeting as a group for drinks. She wasn't the only support staff that came out, but she was the one he always tried to sit beside. Then one Friday night, the place they went to had dancing and one of the weapons techs asked her to dance. As he watched her dance with the guy, he couldn't stop feeling angry. Why was she dancing with him? He wasn't good enough for her. The guy bragged about his body count all the time in the locker room.

"Sam saw it, didn't he?" Wanda asked him gently. "He told you to stop wasting time and ask her to dance yourself. So, you did. What was the song again?"

"Holding Back the Years," replied Bucky. "Not a romantic song at all but that voice and the feeling behind it just got to me. I held back from opening myself up to others for so long, afraid of hurting them but with her, it was suddenly clear that I wanted her in my life. I kissed her, right on the dance floor and she kissed me back. That was eight months ago."

"So why were you so ready to leave her behind?"

He didn't answer for the longest time. "I was angry at myself for not telling her how much I love her. I've had the ring for a month working up the courage to ask her to marry me. She keeps me honest. Doesn't take my bullshit. She makes me laugh and when we're together, making love, it's like the first time every time. I learn something new about her every day. I guess, I figured if I gave her up then it wouldn't hurt so much if I didn't make it. It doesn't make sense, I know. I don't want to die, and I don't want to lose her."

"So, you do think you're good enough for her?"

"I'll spend every day of our lives together being worthy of her." He looked at the young woman who had her own HYDRA story. "Can you send me back?"

"Of course," she smiled. "I just wanted to make sure that you don't want to let go of life, that you really wanted to go back, and not just to Cara but all of them. They're all fond of you, Bucky, and even love you. It's because you're worth loving. It's why Steve risked so much to find you and make sure you were free."

"But he left."

"Yeah." Her face softened. "Sometimes, the people who love us have to make a hard decision. He chose to leave you for reasons only he really knows. You're choosing to stay because you love these people, and they love you. That's a good thing, Bucky. Love is always a good thing."

🩺

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the tears flooding them. When he opened them, he was inside a tent, with Bruce and Helen hovering over him, while a paramedic was holding paddles in the air, and another had a mask over his mouth squeezing air into his lungs.

"Normal sinus rhythm," said someone. "He's conscious."

Bruce came closer. "Bucky?"

He nodded. "How long was I out?"

"Over a minute. Scott and Hope went giant and cleared the debris pile, while Wong levitated you out of there and directly into the tent. Your heart stopped and we had to shock you three times. You gave us quite the scare." He nodded to someone out of Bucky's view. "We're going to transport you directly to the compound via a portal. You need surgery to repair a bleeding artery. Plus, we have to set the breaks in your legs and right arm."

They transferred him to a gurney, strapping him on, and putting his IV bag on a stand. An oxygen mask was placed over his mouth, then the two paramedics began wheeling him towards the portal, while Bruce and Helen followed. The other Avengers were lined up before the portal. He heard murmurs of good luck from them, plus received numerous smiles. Putting his hand up when it got to Peter, he grasped the younger man's hand.

"Thanks," he said softly. "You're still in trouble but we'll talk later about it."

Peter smiled. "Sure, Bucky."

With another wave to Scott and Hope, Bucky nodded, and the gurney went through the portal, coming out to the medical centre surgical suite. They cut his gear off and he had the thought that the uniform tech wouldn't be happy with him. It made him smile. Then he thought of another thing.

"Make sure Cara gets my comms earpieces," he said out loud. "Don't want to get in trouble with the woman I love."

There were chuckles at that, and he relaxed. As soon as he woke up from this surgery, he was going to tell Cara he loved her and wanted to marry her. It was then he remembered something Wanda said. How did she know he wanted to ask Cara to marry him? No one knew, not even Sam.  It really didn't matter because Wanda was right. Love was a good thing. It was everything.

One Shots Masterlist

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[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Sweet Nothing | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Back at it again with another Taylor Swift inspired fic because I'm mentally ill, babes :)

Warnings: some anxiety

"They said the end is coming. Everyone's up to something. I find myself running home to your Sweet nothings. Outside they're push and shoving. You're in the kitchen humming. All that you ever wanted from me was Sweet nothing."

Bucky stood in the doorway, silently watching you. He loved to observe, to drink you in without you knowing. He liked seeing how you lived in moments when you thought you were alone, without your self-conscious tendencies or insecurities.

These quiet moments belonged to him- only him. And he never took them for granted. He committed to memory everything about you, every small detail he could catch. 

He loved knowing that, somehow, the two of you crossed paths. You found each other despite all the nightmares. And he could never put into words how grateful he was to have you in his life. Even when he was away, just knowing that you lived in the same timeline eased his anxiety.

But after watching you for a while, he couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t resist holding you. He wrapped his strong arms around you from behind and pulled you flush to his chest. His stubbled chin rested on your shoulder as his lips found your neck.

“Good morning, doll.” His voice was low, gravelly from sleep. “Whatcha got goin’ on here?”

You reached up and tangled your fingers in Bucky’s hair, eliciting a quiet sigh from his chest. “And good morning to you, Sarge. I thought I’d make us some French toast.” 

Bucky’s “mmmmmm” vibrated against your back. “You didn’t have to do that.”

A quick spin brought you face to face with him. He always looked so cute in the morning, with his tired eyes and disheveled hair.

“You’re finally home, babe. I wanted to make you your favorite breakfast.” His dog tags clinked as you toyed with them for the first time since his return. 

“Well, that’s very sweet of you,” Bucky said, dotting a kiss to your forehead. “Let me help,” he dropped a kiss to your nose. “Put me to work, sweetheart,” finally, his lips met yours. 

“No, you don’t have to do anything-”

“But I want to!” Bucky’s hands made quick work of your sides, tickling you mercilessly. “Let me help, let me help, let me help!”

“Okay, okay!” you breathed, “you can help!” It took several moments for your laughter to cease and your breath to return; Bucky knew exactly how to get to you. “I’m putting you on bacon and fruit.”

He followed your orders and quickly got to work cutting up strawberries and cooking bacon. These were the moments Bucky missed most. He missed the safety, the domesticity, the peace you brought. An unstoppable smile forced his lips upward as he listened to you talk about your dreams from the previous night and the latest update on your work drama. 

It wasn’t flashy or exciting, but it was warm. Comfortable. And while others may have been bored with such a menial task, Bucky reveled in it. He never thought he’d experience the quiet things, the soft things. But now that he had, he couldn't get enough. He wanted to fold laundry with you. Grocery shop. Cook dinner. All the normal things he'd been without for years.

And cutting up strawberries for his favorite person to put on her French toast made him happier than he ever thought possible.

With breakfast finished and the kitchen clean, you gave Bucky an expectant look. 

“Yes?” He pressed his lips to yours, tasting syrup and strawberries. “Can I help you with something?”

“I’m just wondering what you wanna do today!” you told him. “You pick. We can do whatever you want.”

Bucky’s jaw tensed. It was so quick that you almost missed it, but you’d gotten good and picking up his miniscule indicators of stress. “Oh, I hadn’t… I hadn’t really thought about, sweetheart,” he lied. “Give me a little time to mull it over?”

“Of course, babe. No rush.” You planted a quick, syrup-flavored peck to his lips, “I’m gonna go jump in the shower, you think it over and let me know.”

Bucky remained in the kitchen, conflicted. He knew what he wanted to do, how he wanted to spend the day. But he feared you wouldn’t like his plan. He knew you wanted to do something fun, like ice skating or axe throwing. But Bucky’s idea was simpler, more understated. And the last thing he wanted was to let you down.

When you emerged from the shower, you threw another expectant look his way. “So, what’s the verdict, Buck?”

You were ready to do whatever he wanted- no matter what. He’d been gone for just over a week, and letting him pick the entire day’s itinerary was only fair. There were things he missed out on while he way away. Things he didn’t get to do, things he wanted to do with you. And so, if he wanted to spend the day bar hopping or strolling through the farmer’s market, you’d happily oblige.

More than anything, though, you wanted to do absolutely nothing. You wanted to melt into the couch with Bucky’s body wrapped around yours. You wanted to listen to his heartbeat, play with his hair, hold his head against your chest. The safe, quiet world inside the apartment you shared was your favorite place to be. It gave you a sense of comfort and warmth you’d never experienced before. And you wanted to spend every second in the oasis you'd created together.

Sure, going to the movies or the museum was always fun- everything you did with Bucky was fun. You could’ve spent hours watching paint dry with him and it would probably make the list of your top ten favorite days. Time with him passed quickly. Easily. 

But keeping him all to yourself, holed up in your cozy apartment was your favorite way to spend the day. Just the two of you, reveling in the other’s presence. His safe return was all you ever hoped for. And now that he was home, you needed some quiet time with him. You needed to feel him next to you- no distractions, no disturbances- to assure you that he was really back. That he really returned to you in one piece. 

And maybe it was selfish that you wanted to keep him from the outside world. But it was the only thing that could ease your mind after he spent a long mission away. 

It wasn’t fair, though. You knew he was more than just your boyfriend. He surely wanted to spend the day catching up on what he missed while away. There was an exhibit at the Met you knew he was interested in; his favorite author had released a new book just yesterday. There was a whole world outside your apartment- no matter how hard you tried to deny it. And so, you resigned to keep your desires to yourself. Even if you didn’t feel like taking a trip to the pier or the library or the arcade. Because, truthfully, you would’ve been more than happy do anything Bucky wanted- as long as you got to do it with him.

Bucky shifted his weight and brought a hand up to his dog tags- a nervous habit you’d come to know. “Would you…” he sighed, “would you be disappointed if I said I didn’t wanna do anything today?”

You cocked your head to the side, “what?”

Shame bloomed in Bucky’s chest. It pushed through the muscle and bone and rooted itself just beneath his skin- he almost feared you could see it. “I know I just got back, and there’s probably things you want us to do together. But I’d rather just spend the day at home… if that’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Or…” he found himself backpedaling, regretting his words. “We can still go out and do something- just a little later? We can compromise; I don’t want you to be bored. I just want some time together- some time for us. Just us. I want you all to myself for a while… if you don’t mind.”

You took his hand from his dog tags and encapsuled it with your own. You wished he wasn’t so nervous about expressing himself. You wished he was more comfortable speaking his mind. But he saw his presence in your life as an interruption, a nuisance, a tumor. He wondered when you’d excise him.

Society kept him on thin ice, no matter how many times he redeemed himself. And though he knew you loved him; he was scared of messing up the life you shared. He feared the ice beneath him would crack. And without you, he’d drown in the freezing water. 

“You don’t want to do anything?” you asked, “you just wanna stay here?”

He gave another nod, his eyes downcast.

A massive smile spread across your face as you melted into his body. “I was secretly hoping you’d wanna stay in.”

Bucky reach down and hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your face toward his. “You were?”

“Yeah, I mean, I always have a good time with you- no matter what we’re doing.” You thought back on all the things you’d experience together, the trips and the museum visits and the concerts. “But- I don’t know, I just like doing nothing with you. I like when it’s just us and we hang out at home, you know?”

Bucky wasn’t sure he heard you right. “Really? I thought that…” he rolled his eyes at his own assumption. Of course, he'd expect the worst. And of course, he was wrong. “I thought I was kind of... I don't know, anchoring you here. Dragging you down with all my excuses to stay home. I’ve been worried that I was boring you.”

The words made your heart crack. They nearly pushed you off balance, forcing you to take a step back and steady yourself. “You thought… you thought I was bored?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re dating a ‘superhero’- or whatever…” he cringed at the word, knowing that ‘hero’ didn’t apply to him. “I’ve been thinking that… that maybe you had this grand idea in your head of what a relationship with me- with an Avenger- would look like, you know? Stark galas, me saving the world, exciting things happening every day.” A deep sigh left his chest as his hand once again found his dog tags. “And I think we both know that my life isn’t nearly that cool or interesting. It’s mostly just PTSD and people harassing me on the subway.”

“Bucky, baby, I’m not bored-”

“Are you sure?” The doubt in his eyes cut you to the bone. 

“Yes. Oh my god- I only suggested that we go do something because I didn’t want you to be bored."

"I'm not bored, I could never be bored- not with you." The words came quick and firm, like he thought he could stem your leaking anxiety with his assurances. "I'd just so rather be here. With you- just you. And going out always ends up making me feel like shit anyway, so..." At least twice during every outing, Bucky dealt with hecklers. Harassers. They called him names and threw things at him. Screamed and ran when he came near. He'd had the cops called on him more times than he could count.

"Buck, I’m a homebody, babe- I always have been. I just didn’t wanna tell you because I thought you wanted to go do stuff. Honestly," you laughed, "I fucking love doing nothing.”

Bucky pulled you to his chest where you belonged. The unfounded fears he held bout your relationship never came to fruition. He knew they were inaccurate and misguided. But he couldn’t stop himself from believing them.

“And hey, I didn’t start dating you because you’re an Avenger- I was never looking for high speed car chases or you fighting maniacal supervillains in our living room,” you said. “I just wanna be with you. Plain and simple.”

Bucky knew you were telling the truth- but how long could this last? How much time did he have with you before you grew tired of this life with him? How long would he be enough? He didn’t have anything to offer you- not money or social capital. You were simply worth more than Bucky.

In almost record time, he found himself spiraling with no chance of return.

But, as though you’d read his mind, you saved him from the rabbit hole. “I don’t want anything from you- no galas or photo shoots. I just want to be with you. I want you. You’re enough- more than enough.”

“But, doll-”

You held up a hand silencing him. “What do you want from me?”

He stared at you, confused. “I don’t… what do you mean?”

“What are you hoping to get out of this? By being in a relationship with me, what are you trying to gain?” 

“Nothing…” he said, his voice soft yet firm. “I love you- I just want to be with you.”

“Exactly!” You tugged him into the living room and pulled him down onto the couch, demanding that his body rest atop yours. “This is all I want from you. I just want time, closeness. That’s all- that’s all I’ll ever ask of you.”

Bucky’s muscles slackened as the feeling of your touch washed over him. He breathed easier, felt his heart rate slow. His chin rested in the crook of your neck, his stubble scratching at your skin. “This is what I want from you, doll. All I’ll ever want.”

“Good,” you gave a contented sigh. “And let me tell ya, now that the truth is on the table and we’re gonna be staying in more often… we’re gonna save so much money.”

“Money we can use for take-out!” Bucky said. “I know we ate breakfast like half an hour ago but the anxiety burned off all my French toast. So, I’m gonna need to order some lunch soon.” He pressed a line of kisses to your neck before hopping up from the couch in search of the stash of take-out menus.

This was where you wanted to be. Apartment 381 on Bleeker Street. Complete with its warped floors and painted-shut windows. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it was home. This was where Bucky told you he loved you for the first time. Where you cooked him recipes from your childhood. Where he almost burned down the building because he didn’t know how to use an air fryer. 

The small space with its water damage and metric ton of take-out menus was better any high-profile event or fancy gala. It was your home- the home you shared with Bucky. And that’s all you ever wanted.

——————————

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[buckyalpine]

Her

IDK why I’ve been into hurt comfort recently, but here we are, why am I like this. This was poorly written, that’s also a warning. 

Warnings: Aaangst, sad sad Bucky, hurt comfort

“I miss her”

Bucky swallowed thickly, his eyes trained on his coffee while Steve nodded empathetically, sitting across from him in the kitchen after their morning run. Of all things Bucky had gone though, that loss was something he never quite recovered from. He’d bury it away as best as he could but it would still haunt him every single night. He continued to sip his black coffee, trying to ignore his feelings, but it was becoming harder to do. 

You made your way down the hall, your heart dropping a little as soon as the words left his mouth. Bucky had never mentioned missing anyone in his past before even though he was open with you about almost everything.

Almost.

You tried to shake the feeling off; it wasn’t your place to pry if he wasn’t ready to open up about that. You’d always respected his boundaries and this wouldn’t be any different. You entered the kitchen, waving to Steve and giving Bucky a peck on the cheek before making some tea for yourself. He gave you a strained smile before wordlessly getting up and making his way back to your shared bedroom for a shower. 

He stood under the hot water, swallowing the lump forming in this throat. He should have been over it by now, there was nothing he could have done. It had been years but for some reason that wound still felt fresh. He couldn’t bring himself to talk about her with anyone. The most he was able to do was mention it to Steve because he knew her, but even then, it hurt too much. He let the burn of the water distract him, hoping that by the time he got out of the shower, the puffiness of his eyes and the redness of his nose would be less noticeable. 

His heart continued to burn. 

He wanted to see her one last time. One last hug. One last kiss. One more time to tell her he loved her. One more time just to hear it back.

*****

“You gotta talk about her with someone Buck. It’s eating you away” Steve said quietly, while the they both trained and again you felt a little pang hit your stomach. 

“Hurts” Was all Bucky could muster, shaking his head and shrugging, taking a swing of his water. You had seen him upset before but whenever he thought of her, it was different. You could see him struggle to keep it together, aggressively wiping his eyes before pulling himself together again to spar with Steve.  It was getting harder and harder for him to pretend everything was fine.

Bucky had never made you feel insecure. You were the center of his world and he made sure you knew that every single day. Still. You couldn’t help the tinge of uncertainty that gnawed at the back of your mind each time you over heard Bucky mention how much he missed her. He never said more. You sighed to yourself, continuing with your workout figuring he’d talk to you when he was ready. You wished he would just tell you so you could comfort him.

*****

You woke up hearing soft sniffles and whimpers beside you; your heart breaking because you knew he was having another nightmare. You sat up to find his face buried in his pillow, his arms clutching onto it for dear life, almost trembling. You had seen plenty of nightmares before but never where he looked so small and scared, almost like a child.

“P-please come back” He called for her as best as he could but she kept moving further away. His tears continued to stain his pillow, hugging it tighter and tighter, why was she so far away? 

“No, don’t go!”

“Bucky, wake up baby” You whispered, not wanting to startle him. Your hands gently rubbed his back while his breaths grew faster. It pained you to see him so scared, his skin cold to the touch from the sheen of sweat that covered his body. 

“Don’t hurt her, don’t take h-her from m-e!” A sob slipped passed his lips, she was being dragged away and there was nothing he could do, even in his dreams, he couldn’t say bye to her one last time. 

“Bucky” You kept stroking his forehead, trying to gently pull him out of his nightmares without scaring him but his eyes were squeezed shut, distress confusing him deeper. 

“No” He tossed in his sleep, continuing to cry and plead, he was so lost in his nightmare he couldn’t pull himself out. The second he called for her again, you felt your heart shatter into pieces. 

“Mama!” He shot up, his breaths ragged, looking around the room frantically “Ma?” He couldn’t see her anywhere, she was gone again. He felt your warm hands on his body, collapsing and sobbing in your hold, desperately trying to curl up on your chest and make himself as small as possible. 

“Bucky, bubba, shhh, it was a nightmare baby” You cradled his trembling body while he cried harder, clinging onto you, struggling to pull himself out of his dream. 

“Mommy, I-I wa-nt mommy” He couldn’t hold anything inside anymore, you were the most comforting thing he had in his life and he needed you more than ever. 

“I know baby” You stroked his back as best as you could, while he curled himself up like a baby. “Breathe with me Bucky, shhhhh” Your hand rested on his chest, soothing his frantic heart while he focused on the rise and fall of your breaths. 

“Mama” His little voice had been reduced to a whimper, making your eyes sting. You gave him the softest kisses, covering him with the blanket, keeping him safe in your arms while tears continued to streak down his cheeks. 

“You miss her baby?”

He nodded against your skin, whimpering when he thought about her again, the way she was proud of him when she first saw him in his uniform. The way she took care of him and made sure he took care of Steve. The way she used to call him baby boy, even when he cheeks flushed and he told her not to. He felt another wave of sadness thinking about the horror she would have felt knowing what happened to him after he went off to war. Her baby boy she loved in so much pain, waiting for someone to help him after he fell from the train. She was all he could think about in those moments, hoping he’d get to see her once more before dying. 

“I miss mama” He wanted to be a little kid again, running around with Steve, coming home to the warmth of his home. Playing with his sister. Eating the warm dinner his mom would have on the table. 

“She-she told me t-o come back” He sobbed into your chest, remembering the last time she hugged him, telling him to come back to her one piece, that she’d be waiting. He couldn’t even do that. You let him cry as much as he needed too, kissing him and cradling him while he stayed curled up on your chest. 

His breathing was still strained between sniffles but he had relaxed slightly in your hold. He closed his eyes, focusing on the way your hands moved up and down his spine and the way your lips pressed softly on his forehead. 

“M’sorry” He didn’t know what he did to deserve you, snuggling into you even more.

“Why baby?” You peered down at him while he stayed buried in your chest. 

“I-I never told you about her. She would have loved you” He whispered, still not wanting to meet your eyes, “hurts”. He sunk further into the blanket, hiding himself from the world, only wanting to feel you. His home. He knew it would take a little while before he fully opened up but he knew with you, he was safe. 

“It’s okay bubba, I’m here. You can tell me about her when you feel ready Bucky, for now just breathe for me, okay?” 

“Will-will you please hold me?” You knew it wasn’t just for tonight. He needed you. He needed the warmth and the comfort, a safe space to cry, a space where he could feel vulnerable and small again, he knew he had that with you. 

“Always angel, I’ll always hold you” 

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[sunnysideprincess]

Last few days have been wild lol, had a cystectomy, finally met my cousin's husband and now people are asking me to get married and have a baby before "it's too late", so I wrote this instead of punching them

no actual cheating happens here

Steve Rogers is a respectable married man. But he's called in by Virginia Potts, told Tiberus Stone's husband needs a bodyguard and it's fine, he's fine. He can take the heat of a family known to sell weapons to death and destruction. Except the husband is Tony fucking Stark, a man who is so obviously trapped. A trophy for Tiberus like his mother was to his father. And while Stone gets to sleep around, Tony's kept on a chokehold by his own father, uncle and husband. He's a writhing chrysalis trying to evolve, trying to break free. And Steve is helplessly in love with those furious doe eyes looking at him with all the rage as he stops him from trying to sneak away. Again and again. But he is also in love with his husband for seven years. So there's nothing to be found here.

"It's for your own safety," he tries to tell Tony. But the man won't listen. He throws a punch, two. Accuses him for being his husband's spy. Steve assures him he's not. He tells him Miss Potts picked him. And that pulls Tony up short. Leeches the anger out and leaves sharp confusion instead.

"Pepper sent you?" And Steve is a respectable married man. But if those eyes don't stop looking at him with all the curious wonder of a predator, he doesn't know what would happen. All he knows is that he'll end up long buried.

There's a change. Where Tony's rage and struggle pulled Steve in like a depraved blackhole, his gentleness and wit tethers something inside Steve. Keeps him coming back. Tony is a genius. But he's not a psychopath like Stone, not a greedy bastard like Stane, not a businessman like his father. He has hopes and dreams that could save the world. He sees a future that's bright and green. And Steve is a respectable married man headed for ruin.

Steve tells Bucky he would be late. He tells him he's got priorities and his husband says nothing, just nods and kisses his cheek.

He should have known.

He finds Bucky beside James Rhodes, doned up in his Soldier regalia.

"I'm assigning Barnes to Tony's guard."

"We have Rogers."

"Well we've also got Ten Rings coming after him."

There's that. Even Howard Stark doesn't want his son dead. And though there's an ugly scowl on Stane's face he doesn't like, Steve is more worried about deciphering Bucky's blank stare and the gentle flex of his metal limb.

Things go differently this time around. Tony meets Bucky not with fury, but a gentle curiousity. Like he's trying to peek through the icy winds of a storm. He picks and prods at him like a cat sniffing a new scratch post. Asks about the arm. About the metal. About the joints. And the connectors. But never about how he lost the weighted piece of flesh in the first place.

Steve is torn between pulling them apart and asking Bucky to say something.

But Bucky has his back to him. And Tony's eyes are sharp as ever.

"You're lucky my Rhodeybear warned me about you. Or you would gotten the same treatment as him."

Steve can put it on paper. He won't even have to look to know Bucky's interest at that. He always loves it when someone shoves at Steve's immovable strength.

"I punched him. Twice," Tony explains, and like an automated machine Steve defends himself.

"It didn't hurt."

Bucky snorts, shakes his head and throws him a look which tucks the message home. We'll talk later.

"You came back all bruised like a peach."

"Oh," Tony breathes and then blushes. "Well, that's an image."

"I want him," he mourns to Bucky on the sparring mat. Once Bucky has beaten him senseless, gotten the rage of betrayal out of his system. Once Steve learns that he is a respectable married man. But he can learn to be not. "I want him for both of us."

It takes time. Bucky is wary. Skittish around this other guy.

There is Stane and his obvious displeasure. There is Ten Rings and their looming threat. There is Tony himself, pulling away, haunted by a sad, guilty shadow.

"I'm married. And so are you." There is that and more under. There is Stone and his pride. Bruises marking Tony's skin. There is rage boiling up inside Steve, checked by a cold press of Bucky's hand over his neck.

There is too much. And too little.

But when Bucky falls, Steve isn't there. He is trapped behind the rubble after someone blew up the building. He is trapped and worried about the old lady with him, calling for her son and her daughter, bleeding from her torso.

He isn't there. Yet when he gets home, Bucky is there with his fury and rage, his eyes dark and lips warm as he lunges at Steve.

"He's a fucking idiot," he snarls and Steve grins. "He's gonna get himself killed!"

After, Bucky tells him the story.

"He just fucking jumped in after the kid. Wearing a goddamn tom ford suit like it's armor. Ten Rings wanted him alive so of course they stopped shooting. Only saving grace is that I was there. Picked them off one by one."

"And now?"

"Fuck you, Rogers."

"You already did."

"Shut up. We gotta genius to save."

Now, Steve and Bucky are both respectable married men. But they are also known to be a little bit rotten on the inside.