#james Buchanan banes

[buckyalpine]

40s Sergeant Barnes with a nurse and a Sergeant kink (and breeding and house wife kink, virginity loss). This was supposed to be a pure smutty drabble but then I got in my feelings and added some fluff and angst but I promise Bucky is still a dirty, nasty little fuck in this. Just with a sweeter ending. The one he deserves.

Listen just imagine what a cute, sexy menace Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes would be just waking up from an injury when his eyes flutter open to the pretty nurse he’s been eyeing from the day he started. You’re not a shy, dainty little thing, nope. Not at all.

You bark out orders like a drill Sergeant and one glare from you is all it takes to get everyone in line and on task without a second thought. Even his superiors are scared of you, biting their tongue when you stitch them up and send them on their way before running off to your next patient.

Bucky was in love.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he rasps, throwing you a charming smirk while you roll your eyes in response, shaking your head. "How'd I get so lucky, got a my little angel tendin' to me"

“I see your injury hasn’t stopped hurt that mouth of yours Sergeant" You quirk an eyebrow while he playfully huffs as you change the dressing covering a gash on his abdomen. You swab the area clean and he doesn't flinch even though you know it must burn like hell, his muscles tensed while he continues to watch you with heart eyes. "Now you know I'm not your little angel, I got 20 other men to fix up, you better be out of this bed as soon as you're all healed up"

“C’mon sugar, you're breakin' my heart" Bucky gives you a little pout with those perfect lips and you catch the twinkle in his eye as he looks over your form with complete admiration. He loved your sassy, take no shit attitude and it's taking everything in him to calm himself down so he doesn't get a hard on right there in front of you.

"You'd tell that to a cat with three legs if it was in a nurses outfit" You try your best to not give into his flirty comments and puppy eyes, knowing damn well he's a heart breaker but he makes it so difficult when he continues to woo you with his boyish charm.

He can't help but chase after you; catching the way your eyes always dart around with anxiety when his group returns from an operation, relief flooding them when you finally spot him. He loves your indifferent attitude, patting him down to make sure he's uninjured but your furrowed brows and the tiny pout on your lips give away that you're worried.

How can he just let you go. Every time you check over him, he needs you closer.

So much closer.

-

"Ms. y/l/n, Sergeant Barnes is requesting you in his tent, he says it's urgent"

You shake your head looking over at the time, quietly making your way over to the tent he's stationed at, thankful that a number of troops were sleeping so you wouldn't be seen as you quickly slip inside.

“And what hurts now” you sass with your hands on your hips seeing the soldier in perfect health, doing your best to assess him without letting him know.

"Always checkin' over me" Bucky chuckles, seeing what you're doing; his words making your cheeks heat up, "Knew you cared about me sugar"

"Well what am I doin' here" You give him an unconvincing huff, struggling to keep your voice steady, refusing to meet his eyes, keeping your gaze on his silver dog tags instead. It doesn't help that he's handsome as hell with a light dusting of scruff covering his cheeks. Bucky's never seen you flustered before and it evokes something in him, all the blood in his body rushing south seeing your fingers twitch.

All he wanted to do was kiss you but now-

“Help your Sergeant out doll” He whispers, taking another step forward till his chest brushes against yours, his hand coming to tilt your chin up, "Will you?"

You gasp feeling his hardness press against your thigh, your heart fluttering wildly as his thumb traces your lips, any semblance of control you had slipping away feeling the warmth of his skin.

“Y-yes Sergeant Barnes”

His lips press against yours, soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the way his body was screaming for him to pick you up and toss you onto his cot.

"Sweet like sugar" He lets his hands fall to your waist, pulling you flush against his body while your arms drape on top of his shoulders. You stand on your toes chasing more of his lips and he chuckles at the needy whine you let out when he pulls away for air.

Now let's say your first night together was actually quite tame. He kisses you again and you swoon when he repeatedly checks in with you before going any further. His hand slips under your skirt, letting his fingers toy with places no on else has touched. With each night, he needs you more and more until he can't hold off any longer and neither can you.

-

You sneak into his tent and this time he doesn't hesitate to undress you completely, not when he needs you bare with nothing separating you both. You feel your heart race as he lies on top of you, draping a thin sheet over himself when you shiver at the chill night air. You feel his body heat instantly warm you up, his heavy cock resting between your soaked folds.

"Are you sure, sugar?" He asks, his hand cupping your cheek and stroking your skin.

"Please Sergeant" You whisper and the way you say his title makes his cock twitch. There's something so different about you when you're in his bed, a sweet little bunny giving herself to him completely. It drives him feral with a need to make you feel good, make you cry for his cock and his cock only, to keep you nice and full of him.

You don't look twice at anyone else and here you are completely naked in his tent with your tight little virgin cunt, your legs spread open so he can put his dick in you; there was no way he was ever going to let you go.

"You tell me if it's too much, alright?" His lips tickle your neck as kisses your skin while rubbing his heavy cock through your folds, coating it in your slick, "Breathe for me"

He slips his tags into your mouth as he starts to press in, the initial sting making you bite down hard onto the metal feeling a mix of pleasure and pain. You whine at the way he stretches you open, your thighs squeezing around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders.

"Shhh, that's it love, doin' so good for me so good for your Sergeant, look how you're takin' all of me baby" He looks down to where you're both connected as he continues to slowly push himself in till hes fully sheathed inside you. He gives you time to adjust, slipping his tags out of your lips and letting his tongue lace with yours instead, his balls already throbbing with how tightly you were squeezing his cock.

"Please-Sergeant" your heels press into his ass desperate for him to move, gasping when he starts to slowly roll his hips, barely pulling out.

"I got you love-don't worry" Bucky moves as slowly as he could not wanting to hurt you, taking just as much care of you as you had with him countless of times.

But he can only keep up at that pace for so long. Your muffled whines and moans don't help the way his mind is already spiraling. His pretty little nurse all spread out just for him, taking his raw, bare cock in her soaking pussy, squeezing him so tight, he was only a few strokes from cumming.

If it were up to him he would've proposed on the spot, thinking about making love to you on your wedding night, seeing you all shy and sweet wrapped up in soft white lace. If you were his wife, he'd take you apart every which way, not giving a fuck about traditions, taking you right on the dining room table.

You'd be the prettiest little thing for him to come home to, such a good wife all dirty just for her husband. Only he'd know the way your mouth would slobber all over his cock like your life depended on it. The way you'd moan at the taste of his cum. Bucky's eyes rolled back at the thought of you with nothing but some heels and a string of pearls he'd put around your neck while he stuffed you with cum and emptied his balls in you.

"S-Sergeant-I-oh god" You whimpered feeling his cock grow harder, your pussy pulling him right back in, feeling the coil low in your belly pull tighter and tighter as he hit that spot.

Meanwhile Bucky's jaw clenched as he felt his balls pull tight to his body, the tip leaking steadily in your pussy. His mind spiraled into places he didn't think would exist before he met you, rogue thoughts he only entertained when he had his dick in his hand. The harder he fucked you the more he thought about how gorgeous you'd look with a swollen belly.

Fuck, imagine if he got you pregnant right then and there. That nurses uniform would no longer fit you. Everyone would know he knocked you up, your perfectly round tummy carrying Sergeant James Barnes' baby, breasts heavy with milk, God, he wasn't going to last-

“Gonna let your Sergeant pump you full of cum?” He pants, letting his hands grip onto your hips like his life depends on it, the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit.

“Yes!!” You sob, biting down onto his shoulder to keep your cries down while he continues to fuck you into oblivion. You don't understand how such filth can spew from that pink, pouty little mouth of his. "Please-please-need-youI-I'm gonna-"

"M'yours sweet girl, m'all yours, go on, cum for me love, cum on my cock, it's all yours" He gazed into your eyes, cooing at your parted lips and sweat slicked skin. It didn't take long for you to shatter around him his lips smashing against yours to swallow your moans.

"Want your cum Sergeant" You beg , desperate to have him claim you from the inside.

"Oh fuck baby, y-you can't say that, m-gonna, oh fuckkk" Your words throw Bucky right off the edge as he lets out a deep groan stilling his hips and shooting endless ropes of his spend into you. You both lay in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair; his usual kempt brown locks now disheveled .

“Y’know m’gonna marry you” his scruffy cheek nuzzles into your neck as he continues to stay deep inside you as his cock softens, “after all this is over. Gonna put a ring on that finger”

His words send a different wave of emotions over you, feeling more safe than ever, clinging onto him as tightly as possible. You let a whimper slip out and he pulls away from your neck with an expression of concern.

“What is it love” Bucky coos, wiping away the tears that slip you, stroking your cheek while you bite back a sniffle.

“Do you mean it? After this is all over?” You weren't sure what Bucky would want-there was still a war going on. Anything could happen. Perhaps this was just to keep his bed warm. Something to keep him calm, you were just someone to-

"Of course sugar" Bucky presses a firm kiss to your forehead, silencing the thoughts that tried to run wild. "You're mine"

-

And of course he gets his happy ending. Because when it's all over, he gets the ring for the girl he loves. He's on one knee, proposing to you with the sweetest words. He treats you like a princess on your wedding night, making love all night long until the sun is up.

There isn't a surface in the house he's left untouched. Nothing makes him more feral than moaning for his pretty wife, constantly taking her hand and wrapping it around his cock, watching that diamond glint with each stroke.

It doesn't take long for you to feel a little squeamish, knowing all the tell tale signs.

The day you tell him he's going to be a dad is one of the happiest days of his life. There isn't a single night that goes by where he isn't nuzzling his face into your tummy, talking to your little one.

Everything was perfecttt.

[sunflowerrosewood]

Take a Bullet For You ~ Mafia! Bucky Barnes

Author's Note: Since my other account @cheekyredwillow got deleted. I am adding some of my favorite fanfictions to this account and revamping this one with new ones. I hope to make an actual list of fandoms I am still a fan of! NO requests for the time being.

On to the one shot! This is a mafia alternative universe

You just moved into the New York area to open your coffee shop under your apartment. You knew it was insane to move into an area where one of the roughest mafia gangs resided. The big mafia leader was named James Barnes nicknamed Bucky the Sniper. You knew all of this but continued to move in and set up shop. You didn’t think he was near. 

While you were moving in, Bucky was watching from across the street with his right hand man, Steve. From what he gathered was that you were just a coffee shop owner but he still was intrigued you picked a shitty neighborhood. You seemed confident even though most of your customers would be his mafia. 

“Why are we watching her?” Steve asked. “She’s not important to what we need done.”

“She’s interesting.” Bucky said. 

“Oh no! Don’t get all lovey dovey on me. She wouldn’t walk two seconds in our direction.” Steve snapped.

You continued to set shop up so you could open in the next few days. You opened the shop two days later and a bulky gruff man was your customer. You figured you’d see sketchy people but not the head of the mafia game. He was wearing all black. Combat boots, leather jacket, tighter jeans. 

“Good morning. How may I help you?” You asked, feeling a bit of nervousness settling in. 

“Just a cup of black coffee with a spoonful of sugar ma’am.” He said as he put a $20 on the counter. 

“Okay let me get your change.”

“Wait. Just keep it. You’re new, arntcha?” The guy said. 

“Just moved in a few days ago. I’m Y/n. You must be Bucky the Sniper?” You said putting two and two together.

“You’re not scared?” He asked. 

“At first. But you haven’t done anything to make me think worse of you.” You mentioned before pouring his cup of coffee. 

“You’re definitely different. Not in a bad way of course.” Bucky said nonchalantly before taking his cup to leave. “I’ll be around Y/n.”

You watched Bucky leave the coffee shop. You knew from this moment that nothing would be the same. You did not think you’d meet the mafia leader so soon but c’est la vie I guess. 

But you did not know that you had infiltrated Bucky’s head. For some reason he couldn’t get your e/c eyes filled with wonder. He couldn’t help it. Something about you attracted him. He would tell the rest of the mafia to protect you. 

You wouldn’t notice this in the week. An opposing mafia team tried to kidnap you but before they could even act, Bucky’s mafia members got rid of them. What did make you question is a guy asked for your number at the shop within the same week and never called back. But Bucky was always your first and last customer. 

It had been a week since this and it was a Thursday night. You were closing up shop when Bucky came in groaning. 

“Oh Bucky, I was wondering when y- what happened to you?” You yelled as you heard a few more gunshots. 

A blonde haired guy and a dark skinned guy came in. They were panting. The blondie looked at you. 

“Do you know first aid?” He asked. 

“I d-do.” You stuttered. 

“Then get to work.” He snapped. 

“Steve, quit scar-scaring her.  Just focus on protecting us.” Bucky coughed. 

“Bucky is right. She knows what to do. That other mafia will be here shortly.” The dark skinned guy snapped. 

“Sam, have any of the others called?” Steve asked. 

You quickly ran to the back to grab the first aid kit. As you ran back, Steve and Sam were outside with a few others. Gunshots rang out as you sat by Bucky’s side. 

“I need to remove your shirt.” You said softly. 

“Already undressing me sweetheart.” Bucky drawled out but took off his shirt. 

“Oh shut it.” You snapped but chuckled a bit. 

“Good. Keep that smile. I’ll be okay with you.” Bucky said as he placed his hand on your thigh. “After this, we are going to finally have that date.” 

“Wh-what?!” You exclaimed before washing his wound. 

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice my affections.” Bucky teased as you pulled the bullet out that was lodged into his side. “Warn me next time!”

“How about not throwing surprises out?” You said as you grabbed the disinfectant. “Okay this will sting.” 

Bucky hissed for a minute as you continued to clean. The gunshots slowed down and finally stopped. You helped Bucky sit up as Steve and Sam came back in. 

“We told the others to go home. Do you want us to stay?” Steve asked. 

“I’ll be better shortly. I still have to discuss some things with Y/n.” Bucky said as Sam cackled. 

“Are you going to quit acting like a lovesick puppy?” Sam cackled. “Hell that bullet was suppose to hit her but you got in the way.”

“What?” You exclaimed. 

“I guess that’s our cue to leave.” Steve said as he was pushing Sam out the door. 

“So when were you going to tell me that?” You questioned as Bucky shakily stood up. He laughed softly as you saw a warm blush appear on his face. 

“I guess I should explain that.” Bucky said. “I was trying not to fall for you. But when I did, the other mafias saw you as a toy or token to me.”

“So you just decided to take the bullet?” 

“Aren’t we forgetting the whole “taking you on a date”? I would take any bullet for you to be safe. I have fallen for you.” Bucky explained as your face flushed with heat. 

Bucky pulled you into his arms and kissed your cheek. You smiled at him and squeezed his neck for a hug.

“After you heal, you can take me on that date anytime.” You said as you felt him squeeze back. 

You felt Bucky chuckle against the hold. You two broke the hug and Bucky began to leave. You felt a piece of paper in your back pocket. It was his number but before you could say anything, Bucky had left. 

[writingpastmybedtime]

Mine

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: Bucky and Reader have to pretend to be husband and wife on a mission, even though they do not get along at all. Your classic enemies-to-lovers trope.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: none, although Bucky is hot as always.

A/N: Let me know, if you want a pt 2 to this ;)

You should have known better, really. Wearing a short black, curve-hugging, dress wasn’t going to go unnoticed by the Super Soldier whose gaze you wished to avoid.

Bucky and you had been tedious to each other for most of the time spent at the compound. It was common knowledge for the team that you two weren’t supposed to be on the same mission together. Unless they wished to witness your back-to-back nagging. Which, they did not.

That changed, however, when Natasha fell sick and you had to replace her on a mission pretending to be the wife of a Russian mobster, Ivan Sarkovich aka James Buchanan Barnes undercover. 

Needless to say, you did not go on this mission without letting out a fight. Tony shut you up quite quickly, reminding you of the innocent lives that would be harmed if you did not fall through with this mission. There was no one else to take Natasha’s place, but you. You sighed, before begrudgingly agreeing.  

So here you were, at a lavish Balkan hotel somewhere in Eastern Europe with the most exhausting and tiresome being to ever exist - Bucky Barnes. The bane of your existence. The man, with the most gorgeous blue eyes, the body of a Greek God on steroids, and hands you wish would do the dirtiest things to you. 

No one knew you had these kinds of thoughts and feelings towards the ex-Winter Soldier, however, it wasn't hard to hide them whenever he acted like a total ass towards you. You had put up a façade to everyone, not letting out your true feelings. Not when he couldn’t even be in the same room as you without snickering a rude remark.

Had he ever not acted indifferent towards you, perhaps you would not be in this predicament you were in right now.

Fortunately enough, Bucky had already gone downstairs to play poker with the people who you were investigating. 

Ruslan Nikolaevich was a Russian man, behind a drug cartel that had been shipping new kinds of supplements in New York, mainly appealing to teens and young adults. They sold it under the premise of protein, however, it was nothing similar of the sort, except for the look of it. 

You and Bucky had to gain information about the next possible drop-off - the location, the recipient, and the lot. You were supposed to join your dear husband downstairs in five minutes, playing the ever-clingy happy, and satisfied wife.

Smoothing down your dress and taking a last-minute look in the mirror, you deemed yourself good to go. Perhaps your dress was a bit much, but without a second thought, you left the safety of your hotel room. 

Walking towards the men sitting at the poker table, you held your chin high and only looked at Bucky. He was wearing an all-black suit, the one that you thought fit him the best. The one that you wished he would wear when he’d do the most dirty things to you. 

Bucky looked up from the table, as if hearing your thoughts, and his eyes fell on yours. A smirk graced his lips as you neared and he patted his lap, an indication for you to take a seat. 

It was totally normal and mostly expected of the Russian mobsters to have their wives and eye candies sitting on their lap - a way to show off. So, as expected of you, you took a seat. Right on Bucky’s deliciously firm thighs. 

“I thought you wouldn’t come, with how long you took,” Bucky nuzzled into your neck, making a shiver go down your spine. You smirked, placing a seductive hand on his jaw, playing with the slight stubble there. 

“What kind of a wife would I be, if I did not show up to support my perfect husband?” You raised an eyebrow and Bucky chuckled darkly, before placing his lips on your temple and focusing his gaze back on the game. 

“I wish my Maria would still look at me the same way your девушка looks at you,” a man with a thick Russian accent said, looking over at you with a longing gaze that made Bucky place his vibranium arm over your waist as if to pull you closer to him and protect against the Russians that eyed you in a way that made his blood boil. 

Bucky chuckled, to not let on, that he was disturbed by Maksim’s looks. 

“If you’re willing, you could also share your сладостью with the others,” Maksim was eyeing you up and down, and you were now second-guessing your dress choice.

“Gentlemen,” Bucky chuckled darkly, before throwing his cards on the table. “I’m afraid this sweet thing is not for share, for I have intended her all for myself tonight.” 

The men at the table groaned but still looked at you with lust-filled eyes, a certain jealousy towards Bucky Barnes, no, Ivan Sarkovich. 

“I think it’s time we took our leave, my девушка seems to be getting tired of our manly chit-chat and boyish games.” With a nudge to your waist, you feigned a believable yawn and clung to Bucky, playing the ever-attaching wife. Bucky wished good night to the gentlemen at the table, before guiding you towards an elevator.

When the elevator doors closed and you could finally take a breath, letting go of the fake act, Bucky stepped in front of you with a hard look. 

“Are you out of your mind to wear a dress like this in front of them?” 

You looked down at your dress, picking invisible lint off of it. 

“Do you have any idea, what kind of a position you put me in? The things they whispered,” he took a deep breath, closing his eyes, as if to calm himself. You did not understand the Russian language the way he did. Which also meant that you had no idea what kind of vulgar things they had said about you. 

You saw his hands shake on the railing on the wall, that he’d gripped, his knuckles turning white on his right hand with how hard he was gripping it. 

“Fuck, doll-” he looked at you then, his baby blue eyes a shade darker, before he suddenly gripped your jaw and made you look up at him. “You only belong to-” He was cut off by the elevator doors opening and he nonchalantly let go of you, walking off to your shared hotel suit.

You followed him, still ashamed and, confusingly enough, a little bit turned on by his demeanor. He’d never acted this way before. And what was he almost about to say?

As you shut the door of the suit, you immediately felt his breath on your neck. A gentle, but rough hand moved strands of your hair off your shoulder, before chuckling deeply. 

Bucky placed his forehead in the crook of your neck, before letting out a deep breath. His hands then found their way to your waist, pulling you closer to himself. 

“Y/N, do you have any idea, what you do to me?” You felt his lips move on your skin, which made you shudder and the most obscene thoughts filled your head. He whispered your name again.

“If I had known any better, I’d think you got jealous when poor old Maksim made that suggestive comment,” you finally whispered, your forehead resting on the door. Bucky pressed himself closer to you, leaving you sandwiched between him and the brown wooden suite.

“Only I can make comments like that about you. No one else.” He kissed the side of your neck, your head automatically falling on his shoulder. It was as if you had no control over your body; you only moved on his accord.

“You’re mine.”

[steelbluehome]

Thanks for tagging me @wintersxldiers

I tag @thebluemage @mrs-stans @dispatchvampire @hotaruangelofthelord

rules: choose four of your favorite characters from four pieces of media as poll options and let your tumblr pals decide which one most suits your vibe, then tag four people.

tagged by @ladylannisterxo

tagging @inklore @littledemondani @nottsangel @sebsxphia

[putthestaffdown]

Personal headcannon

Bucky is a huffelpuff

[picturetoburnnn]

Home Is Where You Are - b.b. x reader

pairing - Bucky Barnes x Reader

word count - 4k

warnings - the usual angst and language !!!!smut, 18+ only!!!!!

a/n - this is my attempt at a comeback after my last flop. ive never written a smut before so yeah that's cool. this is a month and a half in the making -- i hope y'all enjoy it. i love you guys so much

tags - @cxddlyash @thewxntersoldier @calpalirwin @bibliophilewednesday @givebuckyhisplumsnow

“What the fuck was that, Y/L/N?” Tony’s angered voice filled the small cabin of the quinjet.

“I’m sorry--” The words weren’t even halfway out of her mouth before the tech mogul was on her again.

“You almost got us all killed!”

“But we didn’t! It turned out okay, in the end, and Steve--”

“Captain Rogers was able to work his way around your mess, and thank whatever God there is, he didn’t endanger any more civilians than you already had.”

“I didn’t mean--”

“No, no, no.” He made a ‘shut up’ motion with his hand. No one dared interrupt, even the other teammates aboard the jet. “This is not the time for you to speak. This is the time for you to shut your ass up, and listen for once in your goddamn life.”

Never before had Y/N, or anyone on the team, heard Tony so furious at a partner.

“You think it’s okay because you escaped unscathed, but look around you! Natasha has two bullet wounds, Pietro’s nearly critical, and Barnes looks like he was dragged to hell and back, and it’s only because he was a super soldier that he isn’t on a stretcher right now! You are so -- so careless with your life and others, that I don’t think you even realize how many people could have died because you weren’t paying attention!”

“Tony,” Natasha began, “it’s really not--”

“Yes, Nat, it is! I won’t go having my life put in danger because she--” he pointed a deadly, armored finger in Y/N’s face “--was selfish.”

“That’s enough,” came a quiet voice. Almost every head turned to face the speaker (even Wanda, who was loyally crouched beside her wheezing brother). James Bucky Barnes met all of their eyes. “She’s not Parker. You can’t chastise her like a child. Lay off it.”

“You, out of everyone here, Barnes, have the most reason to be pissed.” Tony waved dramatically, finally averting his gaze from the trembling Y/N.

“And I’m not. We all make mistakes. Give her time to fucking breathe, Tony.”

“Her time to “breathe” should have been before she opened the fucking floodgates of hell and set loose a million--”

“I know.” The quiet voice interrupted Tony, and the cabin fell silent again. The billionaire’s head spun to face the screw-up in question.

“I know I messed up. I know I hurt you all, and I’m sorry. It was unacceptable, and I failed. I recognize that. Please, can we just get home now?”

Tony spared a quick look over at Bucky, who leveled a death glare at him.

With a sigh, Stark turned back to the pilot’s seat. “This isn’t over.”

The rest of the plane ride home was suffocatingly silent. No one dared even breathe in Tony’s direction, afraid they may set him off again.

Upon landing, Y/N was among the first off the jet, making a beeline for the residential floors. Wanda, her best friend waiting for her at the receiving bay, looking utterly confused as the woman raced past, not even giving a hello. Barnes brushed her off, attempting to follow Y/N.

Before Bucky could say a single word of reassurance to her, the door to her apartment was slammed shut. He could hear the locking mechanism click into place. His heart ached for her. No one had seemed to notice that the mistake she had made was because she was protecting a small group of civilians. Or that she had put herself in front of the business end of a gun that was aimed at a child. No one, it seemed, except Bucky, realized that there was more to today’s events than just a mistake.

He’d never dared to say the words aloud, but he always found himself migrating to Y/N. Team meetings, movie nights, charity galas -- he somehow always found himself near her, as if his body knew that she could provide him some sense of safety amongst everyone else. Neither of them ever addressed it, but he was sure she’d had to have noticed by now that the century-old sharpshooter was constantly around.

Bucky gently tapped his knuckles twice against the door. He could hear her muffled cries from inside, and could practically imagine how she sat curled up on her bed, tucking her face into pillows to muffle the sound of a shattered will.

“Doll?” He called softly. The whimpers quieted. He pictured her sitting up straight at the sudden intrusion of noise. “Y/N are you okay? Do you want to talk?” God, the words felt so strange coming from his mouth. He was never good at being comforting. It went against everything he’d done for the past century, it felt like. His whole soul was begging him to talk to her, to make her feel better.

The door remained shut, and he was met with silence. With a sigh, he resigned himself to tying again in a few hours.

“I’m here if you want to… talk, Y/N. I won’t let you be entirely alone in this.”

Y/N listened for his footsteps to fade away before flopping her body back down onto the bed. Tears continued to flow quietly, and she couldn’t help but rethink the day over and over and over again.

“FRIDAY,” she questioned quietly. “Is anyone awake?”

“The only signatures not in their rooms is Mr. Stark, down in his labs. Would you like me to alert him for you?” Came the automaton’s response.

“No, no,” Y/N hastily insisted. “That’s fine. Thank you, FRIDAY.”

I’ll go down there, she decided. Yeah, I’ll go and talk to him like adults, now that we’re both calmed down. It’ll be fine.

Her footsteps echoed down the haunting halls as she slowly made her way to the sub-level laboratories. Bracing herself mentally, she prepared to knock on the doors, before she heard a voice inside that made her freeze.

“I don’t know what to do, Pep.” She heard Tony say. “I’ve given her so many chances and it’s just gotten worse. I don’t see anything else I can do to make her see I can’t let her be on the team anymore.”

Y/N never heard Pepper’s response. Tony didn’t want her on the team. That was all she could think.

Tony wants you gone, Tony wants you gone, Tony wants you gone, Tony wants you gone.

It was too much.

Minutes later, she found herself hunched over her desk, a small lamp illuminating the paper and pen she shakily held. Tears slowly made their way down her cheeks as she wrote.

To my team--

I’m sorry. I should have realized before now that I am not made for this life. I tried to help but I’ve only ever made it worse. I’ll be going now, somewhere I can’t get in the way again. I never wanted to cause you pain, but I can see now that that is exactly all I’ve done.

I promise I won’t be in your way again. I won’t make the same mistakes that lead to three teammates being injured. I never meant to be the burden you never asked for. Hopefully, without me, missions can be completed more safely and effectively.

I did my best, but unfortunately, I’m just not made for this life. By the time you’ve found this letter, my room will have been emptied and my suit returned. This is the best way to move onward.

Please, don’t try to find me, not that you’d want to. I know about the trackers on my car and on my phone, so rest assured they will be left behind. You can have them back.

I wish it could have ended differently. I really do wish you all the best.

Y/N Y/L/N.

By the time Y/N had finished packing her room, the compound was completely silent.

The robotic voice seemed to understand what was happening. “If they ask,” FRIDAY began, “I am incapable of deceiving the inhabitants of the compound. I am fundamentally obligated to inform them of your whereabouts should they request them.”

“Which is why--” Y/N grunted as she hoisted up a bag full of her belongings “--you don’t get to know either.”

The larger items, she could live without. She was sure the sound of her car starting would awaken someone, but the hope was that whoever it was (likely Wanda, as her room was just above the garage) would assume it was merely a midnight drive to clear her mind. She’d stop the car a few miles away, walk the rest of the way to the train station, and from there…

Well, she didn’t exactly know yet, but she’d figure it out. She always did.

So she left the note on her desk, with her phone beside it. Opening the front door, she turned and took one last look at what used to be home. With a steady inhale, she walked out, into the night.

~~

An angry yell across the compound was everyone’s wake-up call.

“Stark!” Bucky embodied every bit of the old Winter Soldier when he walked up to the billionaire with murderous intent in his gait.

“What the hell is your problem, Tin Man?” Tony questioned defensively, discreetly calling for his suit.

“This is your fault.” A paper was shoved in his face.

“Bucky,” Steve’s voice was almost unheard behind him. “What is that?”

“Y/N’s gone,” the brunette spat over his shoulder as Tony snatched the paper from his hand. “She left last night, said she was a burden. Now, who--” he pointed a deadly finger over his shoulder “--would have made her think that, if not the guy that was fucking yelling at her like a child yesterday.”

“Well obviously,” the brunette snapped, “this wasn’t my intention. I didn’t want her to leave. I just wanted her to--”

“To what, Tony?” Steve interrupted. “I was there, you consistently told her she wasn’t good enough, and all but said she shouldn’t be on the team.”

“I never--” he stopped himself as the realization dawned on him. “Son of a bitch. She heard me. I thought I imagined it, but she was there. She must have heard me on the phone last night. I was tired and didn’t mean what I said.”

Bucky was deathly still, eerily quiet as he whispered “What. Did. You. Say.”

“I… I said I couldn’t let her be on the team anymore.”

~~

Bucky was restrained, told he was suspended. Assaulting an Avenger, they said, was a bad idea when his pardon was already so tedious. They’d look for Y/N, they told him. Just sit down and relax, take a break, she’d be back before he knew it.

Bullshit.

He’d never be able to relax until he knew where Y/N was. She was his peace, and without her, he would be in endless turmoil. He couldn’t wait for them to find her. They didn’t know what to look for. He’d have to find her himself.

~~

Three days of searching. Three days of studying every file in existence that even mentioned Y/N before he found what he was looking for. Twelve years ago, before she even started training of any sort, her grandmother had passed away, and in her will was a small piece of property in the backwoods of Vermont.

I’m coming, doll.

~~

A knock rang out against the silence of the cabin, jolting Y/N out of her reverie. This cabin was twenty miles outside of town, and far enough back in the woods that you couldn’t find it by accident. Especially in this pouring rain. Slowly, she crept towards the door, daring a glance through the peephole. A gasp shot through her as she wrenched the door open.

"Bucky?"

As soon as he laid eyes on her, he felt like he could breathe again. He immediately went to wrap his arms around her. "Oh thank god you're okay," he breathed, tugging her frozen body to his chest.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" She pushed off of him, and she swore the raindrops that fell from the ends of his hair looked like tears.

"I… We need you. Back at the tower, I mean. Come back to us."

His heart dropped as she scoffed. "Yeah right. You all need me like you need a bullet to the brain. I'm of no help to you all. The team doesn't need me, in fact--"

"I need you." His heartbroken reply cut off her tangent. "I need you like I've never needed anything before. You are the light of my days, and it's been so, so dark since you left. I could barely focus. I need you."

Thunder clapped, and Y/N swore it was like a scene from a movie. The man she'd been craving for so long, come to beg for her back in the pouring rain. It was too good to be true.

"Don't," she whispered, trying to keep her voice from breaking. "Who told you? Nat? Wanda?"

"Doll?" God, he sounded so clueless. It almost made it worse.

"Don't play with my emotions like this. I know they told you to come get me under any means necessary, but this--" she cut herself off with a sniffle, holding back tears as her voice broke "--this is just cruel."

"Y/N that's not what I'm doing, I--"

"Because I have loved you too long for my emotions to be used like some bargaining chip."

The soldier swore he could feel his heart crumble as she stepped back. “Doll--”

“Don’t call me that,” she whispered, deadly quiet as her eyes locked on the ground. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“Y/N,” he breathed, stepping closer. She stepped back again, crossing the threshold into the cabin. “Please, just listen to me.”

“I don’t want to hear you telling me all the things I would have died to hear a month ago. Don’t say them to me now because you want something from me.”

“I just want you to come home.”

“That’s something I can’t do, Buck.”

He wasn’t quick enough to stop the door before it shut in his face.

“Y/N!” He shouted against the wood panel. The rain continued to bear down on him, soaking his already wet clothes. “Y/N please,” he begged. “I can’t go back without you. Missing you this week tore me apart. Don’t ask me to do it again. If I have to sit on this doorstep for the rest of time, I will, if it means I’ll be near you.”

She could hear him banging his fist on the door gently. “Just… don’t ask me to leave, Y/N. I won’t go back without you. I need you. I need you like the air I breathe, I need you more than anything. Please. If you only listen to one thing I say, listen to this. I have been in love with you for God knows how long now. And even if you ask me to leave, I’ll still be in love with you.”

The door slowly creaked open. Y/N’s eyes met his frantic blue ones.

“Do you swear you mean it?” She asked hesitantly, quietly, scared of the answer.

Instead of answering verbally, Bucky surged forward, hands gently cupping the sides of her face, bringing his lips to hers.

At that moment, Y/N couldn’t bring herself to care about the water droplets on her entryway. She didn’t care about the fact that he was absolutely drenched in rainwater and his clothes would soak hers. God, as long as he kept kissing her like that, she couldn’t have a care in the world.

His lips moved perfectly against hers, as his metal hand steadied her jaw, keeping her in place. His flesh hand traveled downward, looping around her waist, ensuring she stayed against him.

When she pulled away, he angled his forehead against hers. Panting, he finally answered her question. “I mean it, with every bone in my body.”

“Good,” she mumbled, before pulling his lips to hers again.

The pair stumbled inside, Bucky kicking the door shut behind him.

“Bucky,” she moaned against his lips.

“I know, love,” he soothed, breaking away from her lips just to press kisses against every inch of skin he could. Her cheek, her nose, her forehead, that little spot behind her ear that seemed to make her go wild. Anywhere he could reach. His hands reached down to the back of her thighs. “Jump for me.”

She followed his instructions and couldn’t help but notice how large his palms were against her leg, not to mention the delicious chill that came with the left hand’s grip. She felt herself being placed on the counter as his tongue slipped back into her mouth. “D-down the hall,” she breathlessly mumbled. First door on the left.”

Bucky quirked an eyebrow teasingly. “Can I show you how much I love you, doll?”

Y/N nodded her head excitedly.

“I need your words, doll.” He drew back from her entirely, leaving her sitting on the counter without his touch, except for the hand under her jaw that kept her eyes on him. “Do you want me to take you to your room and show you how much I’ve missed you? Do you want me to show you how much I love you, keep showing you until you can’t walk? Yeah?”

“God, please, yes, Bucky. Yes, yes, yes.”

He smiled as she tugged him back to her, jumping off the counter. Her hands grabbed his hips, yanking his body closer to hers as she stumbled backward. Somehow, they made their way to the bedroom, her knees buckling as she hit the bed frame.

When she fell, he fell with her, arms caging either side of her head. Y/N couldn’t help but let out a giggle at their current position, half of each of their bodies dangling off the bed. Bucky drew back, just looking at her.

“What?” She breathed, a trace of laughter still in her tone.

“Just… You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

His words made Y/N break out into a furious blush. Despite the shyness, she dared herself to beg “Say it again.”

“I love you.” He kissed her neck.

“Again.”

“I love you.” His lips pressed against her pulse point.

“Again,” she requested breathlessly.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips, just a breath away. The tension was killing her.

“Promise me?”

“I’d give you the world if I could,” he mumbled just before connecting his lips to hers.

In a flurry of rushed motions and flailing arms, clothes were discarded one by one. First her shirt, then his pants, on and on until they both laid bare before each other.

Dangerously slowly, his metal hand traveled south until it laid above her mound.

“Doll, you’re so needy for me,” he teased, running a finger through her slick.

“Buck,” she moaned. “Don’t tease me.”

“You sound so nice begging,” he smirked, lips hovering above hers. “Do it again. Tell me what you want.”

“Please, Bucky. Your fingers -- I need your fingers.”

“Shh, it’s okay, doll,” he soothed, gently pushing in one finger. “I know what you need.” Pumped in and out until it was joined by one more, then another.

Soon, he had three fingers knuckle-deep in her warmth, and when he curled them up she let out the most delicious moan.

“Oh-- oh my god, Buck, don’t stop.”

He winked as he slinked downward. “Never.”

With that, he took her bud into his mouth, and that was when she truly erupted. Her moans, mixed with the salacious sounds of Bucky in her heat filled the room as her hands found their home twisted in his locks. Pleasure built up in the pit of her stomach as she cried out. “Oh, fuck--”

He twisted his wrist just right, and then he was hitting that little spot every single time. Without fail. Paired with the way his tongue was moving against her clit… she was done for. His free hand pinned her hips down as her thighs tried to shut around his head. “Buck… Bucky I’m right there, I’m gonna come, I--”

His eyes met hers for just a moment, and Y/N could have sworn she saw the bastard wink at her before he moaned into her.

The pleasure was too much. “Oh, oh my god, I’m coming, Bucky I’m--” she was cut off by her own moans of pleasure. Bucky, ever the gentleman, worked her through her orgasm, his lips and fingers and tongue never ceasing.

“Too much,” she moaned. “Baby, it’s too much.” She had to pull his head away from her core, and even then he tried to dive back in. Ever so slowly, the super-soldier kissed his way up her body. The moment he surpassed her neck, Y/N’s hands grabbed the sides of his face and tugged him to her lips once more. “You’re,” she breathed between kisses, “really good at that.”

“I’m good at more than that,” he grinned smugly. “I can show you everything I know, if you wanted.”

She whined as she tugged him back down. It was safe to say, neither of them got much sleep.

~~

The light streaming through slightly open curtains was what woke Bucky up. He vaguely registered the weight against his right side. It was real. Last night wasn’t a dream. He’d found her, he’d talked with her, he’d made love to her.

Her form gently rose and fell with her breaths. It was enough to make Bucky realize she’d been awake for at least some time. “Good morning angel.”

Y/N’s silence was louder than anything said. Rolling over, Bucky propped himself up on his elbow, admiring Y/N as she stared at the ceiling.

“You have to go back,” she realized quietly. “You’ll have to go back to the compound. They need you, Buck.”

“Hey,” he soothed, tracing her features with a cool finger. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“I don’t want to go back, James.” A hint of dangerous anger seeped into her tone. “I’m not welcome there anymore. It’s not my home anymore. This is my home.”

“You are welcome there,” he breathed sadly.

“You didn’t hear what I did.” The soldier was sure he felt his heart break as her eyes watered. “I almost killed you. You’re still hurt, so’s Nat and Pietro. And Tony-- Tony doesn’t want me there. I understand that. I won’t go back home, James, and you can’t ask me to. You have to go back but I can't."

At any other time, the use of his first name from someone so close would have made him flinch. "He didn't mean it," Bucky pleaded as he reached a hand to cradle her face, his thumb stroking her cheek as his fingers tangled in her hair. "I promise you doll, he didn't mean it."

"How can you know?" The broken whisper echoed in the silent morning.

"Tony--" Bucky stopped himself with a sigh. "He doesn't always say what he means or means what he says. He… for all his faults, he does care about the team. And you're a part of that. When he saw you were gone, he… he hated himself, love."

"That doesn't make it any better, Buck--"

"And I personally beat his ass for having the audacity to make you feel like this."

The crack of a smile across her face was a good sign; she was beginning to get it.

"Doll, you…" He flipped back down, onto his back beside her. His fingers searched for hers and linked his pinkie to hers.

"Yes, Buck?"

"You keep telling me that I have to go home, but it's not home without you there. It's not home without your smiles, your laughs. I can't be at home if you're not there. You're my home, Y/N."

The pair sat in silence for a while, side by side staring at the ceiling, before the quiet whisper of "Okay" passed her lips.

Bucky immediately rolled himself over, holding himself above Y/N. "You'll come back?"

"Only," she started defensively, "If Tony apologizes. Then yes, I'll mmph!"

She was cut off by Bucky's lips and she could feel him smile against her.

The truth was, she would go if he asked again. She would go anywhere he asked. He was her home, as she was his.

Masterlist Found Here

[forever-always]

I'm curious how do you categorize writers who writes and saves fics on their mobile's notepad but never wanna put it out there coz they aren't sure of themselves enough ?????? Asking for a friend 👀

[gay-jewish-bucky]

sometimes a family is two himbo super soldiers, an ex-russian spy, a falcon, a witch and her synthezoid husband

[sighmurderbot]

bro not me literally about to sob watching Bucky be happy at the beginning of the first Captain America movie

[ellethespaceunicorn]

*gulp* yes, please 🥺

Don’t Touch

18+ SMUT, Bucky is a menace and your little baby boy is a little shit, just like his dad. 

Warnings: Horny dad Bucky, breeding kink, m masturbating, smutty smut with fluffy fluff 

-

Bucky smirked, watching you pad around the kitchen, your hair still messy from the way he’d taken you apart that morning. Nothing was more beautiful than the way you looked right after sex; skin still warm, lips plump, your legs slightly shaky. You had thrown on his boxers and t-shirt, getting breakfast started, another set of little foot steps making their way down the hall.

Bucky looked up from the kitchen island, grinning at the way his son trudged in, his teddy bear tucked under his arm, softly rubbing his eyes. He walked straight to you, tugging on your shirt and holding his arms up, deciding he needed your cuddles first before food.

“Good morning baby bear” You smiled, scooping Jamie into your arms, giving his chubby cheek a kiss. You adored the pouty face he had, exactly like Bucky if you ever woke up him too early.

Keep reading

[wxlcfie]

BUCKY BARNES TWITTER LAYOUT

[sleeplessincairo]

[ three ]

pairings: james buchanan barnes x reader

warnings: undescriptive smut, ptsd, anxiety, sobbing.

summary: 3AM encounters with bucky barnes and the presence of the number 3 in your growing relationship

a/n: this was inspired by my love for cristina & owen. considering making a part 2.

tell me what you think. would be greatly appreciated.

///

James Buchanan Barnes was a ghost.

He was only seen when he wanted to be seen. One minute he was there and the next, he was gone. Vanished. It made you question science and your sanity, it was as if he was able to dissolve into the very air itself and move with the wind-Or maybe he was never there in the first place.

Bucky was alert and vigilant like he was waiting for an attack or a sign of danger, never showing weakness and ease. He was precise in his movements; never faltering, swift and quick as if he was 10 steps ahead of you and had you beat in every possible outcome. He was self-sufficient; he could infiltrate bases and extract information without the help of his fellow teammates nor any arising problems-You could see why HYDRA wanted to create more of him. 

Even in the safety and comfort of the compound, Bucky’s distant and guarded demeanor never wavered.

‘Hellos’, ‘Good mornings’, and well, talking were as foreign to Bucky as the first air that slipped into his lungs when he came out of cryo sleep. It was a luxury he had grown to live without many years ago in a place where the only sound he could ever release was one so agonizingly loud it pierced the air even through the cloth the HYDRA doctors stuffed in his mouth. And now, he was left in the hollow shell of the man he used to be. All he could bring himself to do was observe, never participate.

Bucky refused to train, spar, eat, and hell, even talk to the rest of team-Other than Steve and Sam-during the previous weeks since he had joined, he never attended meetings or briefings, and he rarely left his room-And when he did, you never saw him despite being in the room across of him. You never heard the squeak of his door as he slipped out of his room at 3 AM to train alone, you never heard the sound of his footsteps as he walked down the corridor to sneak food out of the fridge, you never heard the muffled screams he let out at night as he felt familiar spirits of leather-bound around his wrists and ankles and white-hot electricity surging through his body, which is why you were startled when you heard the sound of glass breaking coming from your ghost of a neighbor’s room.

You took your gun with you. Just in case.

You knocked on his door three times, each knock harder than the other while the sound of your voice, uttering his name in a persistent and questioning manner, slipped through the crack of his bedroom door. Your mind started to run with worst-case scenarios that included kidnappings, intruders, murder, HYDRA agents, and many other things that should not be thought of at 3 AM.

Nonetheless, those thoughts pushed you into taking a deep breath and wrapping your hand around the cold metal door handle, and opening the door. 

You don’t know what you expected to see, but it sure as hell wasn’t the former HYDRA agent in a fetal position, head dug deep into his knees and surrounded by shards of mirror and a small pool of his own blood. 

You cussed lowly under your breath and rushed to him, careful not to step on any of the shards and press your knees to the ground to get a closer look at him.

“James, I need you to look at me.” You examine your surroundings. There are no signs of a break-in or assault-Other than what was done to the mirror, which you deduced was probably done by James himself judging by the force it must have taken to completely break the mirror and the blood leaking from his flesh hand.

“James,” The repetition of his name made no effect or change in his position, and you contemplated touching him and shaking him out of this trance, before mentally waving it off.

“You need to come with me to the medbay, that’s a pretty nasty cut on your hand,” You pursed your lip at the lack of movement or response and came to terms that he was not leaving this room.

God, Steve chose the worst day to go on an undercover mission in another goddamn continent. 

You let out an exasperated sigh, weighing your options before deciding to walk towards the bathroom and take out a first aid kit. 

Looks like you had to do this yourself.

“James, I need to clean your wound. I’m going to touch your hand, okay?” You searched his body for any signs of consent, “Look, I’m just going clean and bandage it, then I’ll be out of your hair. I promise.” You sucked in a deep breath and closed your eyes for a few seconds.

“Please.” Maybe it’s the way your voice was laced with exhaustion and impatience, maybe it was the realization that dawned on him where you’d probably end up bringing the team to his room or calling Steve, or maybe it was because he knew you’d never give up even if it took all night. Because that’s who you are. You were always known for caring too much. 

Bucky looks up at you, glacier cold eyes red and puffy as salty drops cascaded down his cheekbones and off his chin. Despite the tears on his face glistening in the light, sadness bouncing into the atmosphere, his facial expression was still hard and cold, his eyes were the palest blue glass, too soft to be turquoise, too bright to be baby blue. An innocent shade.

But oh, innocence was nothing but a stranger to him.

You cleared your throat, “I’m going to touch your hand, is that okay?” He licked his lip, tasting the saltiness of a stray tear before reluctantly placing his flesh hand on your knee. The bleeding had already stopped so you picked up the rubbing alcohol, the smell tickling your nostrils uncomfortably, and poured a decent amount of it on the wound.

He didn’t even wince.

You cleaned and bandaged his wound, even cleaned up the broken shards of glass and blood surrounding him while Bucky remained still throughout it all, keeping his eyes fixated on the marble floor tiles and leaning his back against the wall. 

“Hey,” You said softly, sliding your back against the wall and sitting next to him, staring at the spot he’s looking at, “It’s okay. When I say, ‘One, two, three.’ forget it. Erase all the sad memories. Just hold my hand and smile. Even if it’s temporary, okay?” You give him a weak smile that he probably doesn't even see.

But he does. From the corner of his eye.

You inhale, “One.”

You exhale, “Two.” He slips his hand into yours.

“Three.”

____________

It was a particularly bad mission. You had lost 2 SHIELD agents that accompanied you and the team, barely making it out with your lives and almost all of you coming back with injuries that your body would throb with for the next weeks. It was supposed to be a simple extraction mission, in-and-out, but there were more enemy agents than you had originally expected and it ended up being a trap set by HYDRA, and before you knew it, you were ambushed. 

The whole thing was a blow.

The Avengers were fatigued and lethargic, they wanted nothing more than to crash on their soft beds, but the mission left more than a few physical injuries, and sleep seemed to be the furthest thing from all of your minds. You all ended up in the kitchen, drowning your sorrows in alcohol and shwarma in silence-Except for Wanda, who had the stomach flu, and Bucky, who hadn’t joined the mission per Steve’s request due to still-fresh wounds that hadn’t quite healed yet.

“Hand me a shot of tequila.” You groaned to Tony, leaning your head on the cool marble exterior of the counter and sitting on the stool that accompanied three other empty ones.

“I’ll take one, too.” Sam trudged his body onto the stool beside you, wincing once he sat down-Poor guy was captured and tortured during the mission before Steve and Nat managed to get to him. 

Steve followed him and sat on the stool next to him, rubbing his temples before mumbling a ‘Me too’ eventhough alcohol did not affect him.

Tony was about to retort with something about financing the team and being the bartender, before Bucky came inside the kitchen, stopping slightly at the sight of The Avengers all wide awake in the kitchen instead of in your beds at 3 AM.

Bucky usually tried his best to avoid spending time with more than 2 members of the team, even so, that he made sure to leave his room after midnight so there'd be a less likely chance of running into too many people. He had been avoiding group training sessions, parties, and eating out of his room for the past month, and so he couldn’t stop the feeling of anxiety creeping up his throat and regret coming into the kitchen.

This is why Bucky never ate outside of his room. 

“Hey Buck, thought you’d be training room right now. Join us, will ya’?” The blond super soldier said, smiling fondly at the ex-assassin before motioning for him to sit on the last remaining stool next to you.

The previous encounter between you and Bucky remained unspoken of and neglected, but not forgotten, it was a wordless agreement made between the both of you that you both wouldn't dare mention.

He didn't even tell Steve.

“Lucky for you, we’re all sulky and grouchy tonight so you'll fit right in.” Tony chirped, taking a swig of vodka and turning towards Natasha and Clint for a change of scenery that did not include the man that murdered his parents.

Bucky cleared his throat and contemplated turning around, and walking out of the room but the sad and tired look on Steve’s face expelled the need for the company of an old friend-Even if he wouldn't talk-and dragged himself over to the stool next to you.

It didn't take long for the three of you to get lost in a meaningless conversation while Bucky observed, often pausing to laugh at something that wasn't really funny, then stopping himself short, bobbing his head down, eyes moving quickly from one side of the corridor to the other. He would smile swiftly in a way that was sadder than tears, his true age starting to show in the way he slouched and the lack of light in his blue eyes.

The hum of conversation in the room did nothing to block the sound of Bucky’s heart beating, accelerating at a faster rate each second, and buzzing in his mind as they started to race, his thoughts scattering like there’s an electrical storm, too many short-circuits to make any sense. 

You take notice of the frozen panic that settles in his chest in the way his breathing turns ragged as he restlessly continues to glance at the door, thinking about making a run for it. 

“James,” You say in a low voice, careful for the others not to hear you, “You need to busy your mind, you need something to ground you.” You start looking around the room for anything he can focus on, anything he can hold on to mentally, anything to keep him from the panic creeping up his throat.

“Alright, look, count the inner pads in your hands,” You slowly hold his hand, placing it on your thigh and start moving his thumb to touch the inner pads separated by the wrinkled lines of each finger, and start counting. You smile to yourself when you feel his hand relax on your thigh and his breathing slowly settling into an almost steady rate.

The night continues in a blur of lowly uttered ‘threes’, soft breathing, and grazed fingers transforming into fingers entwined together in a gentle holding of hands.

Bucky decides to stop eating in his room.

__________

“Hey,” You smile, leaning against  the wall of the training room admiring the view of Bucky as he hit the punching bag, each punch falling rival to the previous one. The dim lights in the training room made him look like a shadow, each muscle on his body flowing from the light into the dark and each time he moved, a bead of sweat trickled and glistened in the light.

Bucky turned to look at you, narrowing his eyes at you but letting the smallest tug of a smile play on his lips. You took notice of his bleary eyes, slightly bloodshot, resulting from days of not being to sleep, eyes that grow with the stars in the night sky, accompanied by dark crescents under his eyes, and stay until the light of day. The stubble on his face had grown longer and rougher, the hairs scattering from his jawline to the middle of his neck. His stance was loose, less alert, more rash, like he was trying to tire himself out rather than actually train. It was obvious he hadn't had a good night’s sleep in a long time.

“Let me guess, nightmares?” You inquired, smiling sympathetically when you saw his head move in a slow vertical manner.

On good days Bucky'd get three hours, on bad days two. He'd wake up as soon as sleep came, always as fast as if a gunshot had sounded, heart beating fast and breathing as if he'd just surfaced from deep water. 

Today was a bad one-The past few days really. His mind was plagued with thoughts that he had tried so hard to push down, only for them to sink into him completely.

“C’mere,” You motioned to the cushioned bench on the other side of the room, “So,” There was a slight hesitance to which you wondered if it would sound silly to an ex-assassin before waving the thought away, “There was this thing my mother used to do when I was a kid.”

He follows you to the bench, his focus on your words unfaltering, “It was to keep the nightmares away,” You let out a light chuckle, leaning your back against the wall as your mind filled with bright memories of your childhood.

“It was like this...I don't know this hymn or chant that she’d repeat three times.” You turned to look at him, searching for any sign of mockery and grinned when you found none, “Maybe it was because I was a child, but it seemed to do the trick and what have ya’ got to lose?” You shrugged.

“She’d be so disappointed if I at least didn't try, so,” You paused, pursing your lips into a thin line,  “Do you mind?”

Bucky wiped his hands in the material of his shorts and nodded before looking down and taking a deep breath. You put your hand on the sides of his head, making him look at you and giving him a reassuring smile before dragging his head onto your lap and putting your hands a few inches in the air above it.

You took a deep breath and moved your hands in a motion that resembled digging a hole in the air before he grabbed your wrist tightly, his eyes burning. He’d seen that move multiple times, he'd seen Wanda do it when manipulating opponents, he'd heard of how she manipulated Tony into creating Ultron, how she managed to bring Natasha Romanoff, one of the Red Room’s best assassins, to her knees, how Wanda triggered the Hulk into destroying a city and killing hundreds. Bucky’s mind immediately wandered to a futile tussle of conflicting thoughts, to the manipulation and brainwashing he experienced, the feeling of his mind-

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Your pained voice snapped him out of it, making him dart his eyes to your wrist and how it had turned red in the steel grip of his metal arm, “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.” Your eyes pleaded with him and he reluctantly let go of your arm, silently cursing himself when he saw your rub it in pain.

You cleared your throat, going back to your original position and started the tune, “Bad dreams, bad dreams go away,” The digging movement started momentarily before replacing it with throwing the air over your right shoulder, “Good dreams, good dreams,” The movement of your hands switched from digging to smooth pushes that resembled a wave hitting the shore, “Here to stay.” You sighed, flattening the air with your hands and repeating the tune and movements another 2 times.

And maybe its the fact that all the memories he had of you so far were all so bright in the darkness of his mind, maybe it was the fact that your voice was so damn soothing and reassuring the kind that was made for lullabies and soft laughs, or maybe it was the fact that it was 3 AM and he’d been living on 7 hours of sleep in the past 4 days and his body just couldn’t take it anymore but he can’t fight the way his eyes lids get heavy. Bucky feels the shuttering of my synapses, the quite lure into sleepiness. His head lolls and the muscles of his face relax as each limb becomes heavy and his heart slows to a more peaceful beat, releasing the tension of the past 4 days.

___________________

Bucky doesn't remember how it happened or how he let it happen, but one minute he was fighting HYDRA agents, and the next he felt thousands of bolts of electricity flowing through him and the feeling of him being dragged into a vehicle before everything went black.

Luckily, Natasha had intercepted one of their walkie talkies and the familiar Russian language talking about Prisoner #56898 being moved for transport and commed the rest of the team. Sam flew to the sky with Steve in his arms before spotting the truck and intercepting it.

Bucky was safe, but he was not okay.

The trip back was quiet and troublesome. It had been 2 hours since Sam and Steve had brought Bucky back to the helicarrier, and he still had not woken up. You all considered the possibility of him being drugged or poisoned, but you wouldn't be able to tell until you reached the compound-You couldn't even touch him, in case he was infected with something so he was kept in the cell Loki was kept in when the Avengers first assembled.

“Still not awake?” You walked up to the blond super-soldier who monitoring him from the other side of the glass.

He gave you a small nod, slightly wincing which made you notice the blood seeping from his forehead, “Woah there Rogers, you're bleeding.” As always, Y/N, stating the obvious,

You reached up to touch the garish red staining his sun-soaked hair, “You’ve gotta get that checked out. You might have a concussion.” He looked at you, his eyes conflicted but still settled for a quiet, “I can’t just leave him.”

He runs his hands through his blood-stained hair, “Sam and I almost didn't make it in time, he could've been taken and-”

“But you did, and he’s still here.” You put your hand on Steve’s shoulder in a reassuring gesture, before he winces once more and raises his hand to hold his shoulder in an attempt to soothe it.

“Steve, you have multiple injuries. It’s 3 AM, we won't land for another 3 hours. You’re exhausted and injured. Standing here won't make him wake up any sooner. Just go get checked out, maybe take a nap or eat something. You look like shit,” You joked-In all seriousness though, he did look like shit-earning a chuckle out of him, “I’ll keep watch him until you get back, alright?” You give him a reassuring smile, and a silent ‘I promise’ with your eyes.

He hesitates, weighing his options and whether or not he should just push through the pounding in his head but realized he had to go check on Clint anyway, who had also suffered from a few injuries. Steve mumbles a low ‘okay’ and trudges out of the room.

You lean against the wall facing the glass separating you from Bucky and take out your phone to type in the mission report. You didn't have to turn it in until tomorrow, but you thought you might as well start it now.

You had just about made it to to the part, that people at SHIELD always loved to see, where you type ‘Despite complications that the team eventually surpassed, the mission was successful’ and suddenly, you heard a scream pierce the air in an uproar of pain from behind the glass, jolting you up from your sitting position and towards the source.

Bucky’s eyes split open. At first all that surrounded him was silence, a misty haze upon the horizons of his mind until memories of what happened came rushing in from falling off the freight car to the white-hot electricity that shot through his body more times than he could count. And before he knew it, he was plunged into scattered thoughts, replays of horrors once forgotten, and suddenly his breathing goes shallow and wheezy, lungs unable to move against suddenly concrete-heavy ribs. The panic starts like a constriction in the chest, as if the muscles are trying not to let another breath in, but instead to die. 

The scream tore through Bucky like the shard of glass that pierced his hand not so long ago. He felt my eyes widen and pulse quicken, his heart thudding like a rock rattling in a box. The blood drained from his face before he was even aware of making a conscious decision his legs were pounding furiously against the cool pale floor and towards the monster he saw looking straight at him in the glass wall in front of him.

Himself.

You yelled his name like your life depended on it, pounding on the glass as you watched him scream, punch, scratch, and claw at the wall with his head, hands, nails in a massacre of blood, shouting, skin, and metal.

Bucky heard the sound of a pair of feet against the floor, the sound of a passcode being entered, the sound of shouting-The throat-scratching yelling of a familiar voice, or maybe that was just him. He couldn't tell. Not when the world turned into a blur of color that melted into red, like a sunset. All the taste, the smell, the feeling, the sounds melted into nothing but a fiery, sizzling hot, flaming, scorching hot, bold, garish scarlet red.

He felt his heart play push-and-shove in the deepness of his heart. It pulled back in like a yo-yo. Over and over. In and out. Until he was hollow, his life crumbling in his fingertips and rumbling into an earthquake with every punch against the glass-Now stained with his blood. 

And then, suddenly, Y/N was there, wrapping her arms around him, restraining him and reaching into his hollowness in a series of mumbled ‘You are okay’s, ‘Everything is fine’s, ‘You are safe’s, ‘Breathe, James, breathe’s, ‘I got you’s, ‘Hold my hand’s, ‘Look at me’s, ‘I am here’s, and other three worded sentences as you squeeze him tighter, ignoring his thrashing body and waiting for his oxytocin levels to increase.

Bucky's last remaining thread of strength unraveled before completely tearing, sending him plummeting over the edge and into the darkness. Hysterical sobs shook his once-so-rigid frame, threatening to rip him apart from the inside. The sobs punched through, ripping through her muscles, bones, and guts as he fought to reclaim control over his body, shocked by the howls of misery that escaped from deep within his chest. 

You held him in silence, rocking him slowly as he sobbed into your chest unceasingly, hands gripping at your arms like you were the only thing gravitating him from flying away, whispering a prayer-like mantra of ‘three, three, three’ over and over again.

It’s the first time you ever heard his voice.

__________________

It’s 3 AM when you knock on his door the next day three times as you did oh, so long ago, but instead of letting yourself in, you’re welcomed by the familiar face of James Buchanan Barnes.

It’s 3 AM when you inquire about whether he’s feeling better and he gives you a warm smile and small nod, before inquiring if you’d like to come inside. He had a box of pizza that he hadn’t yet finished.

It’s 3 AM when the pizza’s all finished, and there’s a thrum and purr of friendly conversation-Mostly you talking and him releasing a few words and comments here and there, still getting used to the sound of his voice-but beneath the talk was the gentle, admiring gaze of their eyes and the relaxed nature of their faces.

And then its still 3 AM and he’s kissing you, parting your lips when he brushes his tongue against your bottom lip, wordlessly asking for an entrance. It’s a slow, sybaritic dance of lips and tongue, your lips are 2 dancers, moving against each other like they’re sashaying through the melody. It’s a slow and soft kiss, comforting in ways that could never be verbally shown.

Bucky’s hand rests below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as your breaths mingled. You ran your fingers down his spine, tugging him closer until the space between the both of you was eradicated and you could feel the beating of his heart against your chest. Your bodies molded perfectly against each other like you were made for each other, made to sink into one another, made to drown in the thick air filling his room with pure longing, expelling from the both of you-So lost in the moment, you don't even notice when you knock the clock off the table, shattering it, 

And before the both of you can realize what’s happening, you're naked and you’re exhaling a gasp when you feel the cool exterior of his Vibranium arm venturing your body, his hands working their way, feeling each crevasse, taking their time to map every curve and dip your body as it moves, slow and sweet like honey, against his body. You feel his hand enter from below, skin and metal colliding in an earth-shattering sensation, moans and sighs exhaled into each others’ mouths, your hands tangled in his hair playing a game of push-and-shove, and suddenly, he can't get enough of you. 

You were intoxicating.

Bucky drinks you in, he drinks in your scent, he drinks in the sounds you make, he drinks in the softness of your lips on his skin, he drinks in the warmth that radiates off the soft-kissed spots that slowly spread throughout the rest of your body, he drinks in your body’s response as picks you apart with his tongue, fingers, and the stretching of your walls as he enters you, changing your breathing with every thrust, hearing your moans timed to his body until he feels you tremble underneath you and in a breathless howl, his brain lighting up in places he thought were abandoned years ago and his body is shaking with sheer bliss.

____________

You awake to hands, that held you so tenderly and savoringly mere hours before, wrapped around your neck tightly, robbing the oxygen from your lungs-No doubt leaving scars more permanent than the ones that would stain your skin in the coming days and remind you of the way your body thrashed and writhed in his hands, the way you gasped out his name continuously no longer done in euphoria, the way your hands pulled and pushed and scratched at his hands, hair, face, and back no longer done in pleasure, the way his body fell limp beside you no longer done in the result of the comedown of a groundbreaking high, but instead because of a nearby lamp being pulled from its socket and smashing it against his skull three seconds before you pass out.

The shattered clock on the floor stuck on 3:53 AM.

[buckylishous-and-venomenal]

Top 10 Male Characters

Alright, @trees-and-ink tagged me in this so let's do this

1. Thor Odinson (because.. he's been my babe for what feels like AGES)

2. Eddie Brock/Venom (kinda obvious tho)

3. Bucky Barnes (yes, the metal arm really does some things)

4. Bane

5. Dean Winchester

6. Logan Howlett/Wolverine

7. Alfie Solomons

8. Sam Winchester

9. Tony Stark

10. Steve Rogers

I don't really have alot people to tag so to everybody who sees this: feel free to see yourself as tagged on this post :)

(I just realized how Tom Hardy dominated this post is, also GIF's are not mine)

[the-canary]

Pretend - B.B.

Summary: Denial is a strong motivator to do stupid things. (Reader/Bucky Barnes).

Prompt: “Let’s do something romantic, like plan a murder or something.”

A/N: This is for @softhairbarnes 750 writing challenge. It took me awhile to figure out how this situation would go, but it’s fun and I enjoyed it! So, I hope you do as well. 

Masterlist

Feedback is always welcomed.

Being an Avenger isn’t always what’s cracked up to be in the media. There isn’t a Tony Stark party every night, there hours are long and sacrifices are made for the greater good in terms of personal and familial relations. It’s busting from one mission to another with people that have your back, but with the possibility of never coming back to the Tower or the Compound. The highest state of being a workaholic, but you wouldn’t have it any other way because while you are a hero somewhere else in the world for either a few days or weeks, it allowed you to avoid the problems back home.

“Mission debrief with Nat and Sam,” Clint explains as he polishes his arrows, a few hours away from landing at the Compound, “Potential mission in Morocco for another three weeks.”

“Do you think they’ll need me?” you ask, turning around after you finish wrapping your hands in bandages. The last mission had left you a bit worse for wear, but it wasn’t something that wouldn’t be gone in a couple of hours though there were some wounds that were worst, but hidden underneath the combat suit you wore. Clint just frowns.

“They might,” he says, though he has to add a little extra towards the end, “But, don’t you think you should take a break? You’ve been going on like this for nearly 2 months now.”

“I--” you want to defend yourself, but if Nat knew it was more than likely that she had told Clint as well -- they were a nasty pair like that.

“You can’t keep avoiding him forever, kid,” he tells you the die hard truth of what you have been avoiding these past couple of weeks, which causes you to frown. There is stubborn glint in your that he had seen a dozen times before in all the years of knowing you -- you weren’t going to say a word, take it with you to the grave if you could, “He’s gonna come looking for you eventually.”

“I guess, I’ll handle that when it comes to it,” is the only way you respond, as Clint laughs at your attitude.

The rest of the ride is spent talking about what you want to do in the little intermission between this debrief and the next mission briefing. A nap will be nice, but you know that that will be impossible with the excitement and adrenaline still running through your veins -- maybe, finally getting to eat some good homemade food from all the leftovers that Wanda tends to keep for everyone. Food was always good to ease the body and even the heart, which you had been fighting with for quite some time now.

The hour long flight passes  by too fast as you both are already walking down the hanger as Clint prepares to take a much needed rest and you try to the best with the time allocated for you before going to go meet with Natasha and Sam. Clint gives you a good-natured pat on the back as you give him a simple shrug.

“Take me advice. It’ll make it easier in the long run,” he warns you one last time, but you don’t say anything. He waits until you leave the hanger area, for a twenty minute brief and quick shower,  to take out his own communication device and speak into it.

“She’s heading to the kitchen,” he shakes his head with a smile, tired of how you’ve been avoiding the situation, as a familiar female voice answers back.

Clint’s words hold some truth because for a while Bucky Barnes has been wondering why he hasn’t seen you in such a long time. Long missions and time apart was something he was used to since becoming an Avenger and slowly becoming your friend after the long road of recovery, but this much time apart was insane. He worried about your health and was slowly coming to realize that it might be more, though he couldn’t help but question your actions once he asked Steve why you had been on so many missions lately.

“Shouldn’t she take a break? Ain’t that part of protocol?” Bucky tries to ask discreetly as possible one training session with Steve. You had just gone on a mission to Europe and had just as quickly packed up for a mission to Morocco with Clint. He hadn’t seen you in three weeks and it was starting to drive him up the wall. Blue eyes look back to meet his, as Steve seems to pick up on something Bucky hasn’t.

“I’ve already told her, Buck,” Steve pauses from punching the bag in front of him to look his oldest friend, “But, she’s want to dive right in, hard to stop a gal like that.”

“It’s just---” Bucky stops in frustration, as he runs a hand through his matted hair and  Steve can’t help but smile just a bit.

“You got something you wanna let out,” Steve teases with a laugh, as Bucky stops for a second and frowns as he tries to organize his thoughts. He knows that your absence bothers him, though he isn’t ready to admit the reason why just yet, not to Steve and certainly not to himself.

“Nah,” is all he says before going back to training and hopefully off of what’s really bothering him.

Since then, Bucky had been avoiding the bigger picture of what was bothering him, of what he could potentially be feeling for a close friend. He had known you for quite some time now. You made movie nights for him, trained with him, had his back when pranking Sam, and if he thought about it long enough it was only natural that he was drawn to your light like a moth and while he had been trying to get back into the “modern dating scene” here and there because it was different trying to initiate something with a stranger than with a close friend -- someone that he would place his life on the line for. And while that was just a shitty excuse, it was better than the darker thoughts that swim in his head.

Maybe, that’s why it was easier to go through the routine of checking his guns, or like he was doing at the current moment -- sharpening his knife in one of the darker recreational areas, maybe just for the potential of scaring Sam like he usually did. Instead, he was welcomed with the sight of you coming into the room with a bowl and freshly out of the shower from what he could tell with your damp hair.

“Hey Bucky,” you give him a smile and he doesn’t know if it's the soldier in him or if it’s just because it is you that he can notice the tired shag of your shoulder as you walk to take a seat on the couch. There is a limp in your walk that you are doing your best to hide, since you ability hasn’t caught up to healing it, and there are bandages around your hands. The toll of your constant missions is starting to catch up on you.

“You okay, doll?” he questions, as you take a bite out of your yogurt and fruit mix. You give him a light smile over his concern, though it doesn’t stop the quick ache in the middle of your chest because this is all friendly concern and nothing more.

“Nothing that can’t be fixed in a couple of hours,” you say in a dismissive tone in regards to your ample healing ability, though he didn’t need to know you were pushing your ability to its extreme with how many missions you were taking -- you were reckless that way.    

However, instead of saying anything about your current emotional problems, you decide to stay quiet and simply enjoy the silence you have with one of your closest friends. It was better than getting your heart potentially torn apart, though physical activity might be a whole better than the metaphorical version. Yet, you want to hear his voice beyond the sharpening of his beloved knife, and maybe that what makes you open your mouth, as you lean into the couch.

“ Let’s do something romantic, like plan a murder or something ,” you say breaking the silence from your side of the couch as blue eyes turn to look at you for a moment. He’s surprised in the way you say it , but the last part catches him off guard for a moment, not sure it you are jesting or being serious.

“Why would you want to do that?” he says walking over a thin bridge, though you can tell he is just humoring you with those twinkling blue eyes and the crooked grin on his lips as he sharpens his knife.

“Clint was annoying me on the ride back,” you admit, not never going farther to the actual truth, instead moving a bit more towards your curren fantasy with a laugh, “Just wanna whack him with a bat, maybe throw him in the Hudson.”

“You’ve been watching too many Scorsese movies again, doll,” it’s Bucky’s turn to laugh at the reminder that you have watched Goodfellas and Heat one too many times, and while he didn’t watch them with you for specific reasons he had gotten too used to you quoting them and going into monologue with Sam when the situation called for it. It was a little violet, but it’s one of the quirks he liked about you.

He liked a lot about you, actually and he was slowly starting to figure that out.

“Maybe,” you admit, before closing your eyes for a moment because while you were enjoying the exchange, you hands twitched due to his laugh with the thought of just going over to him and pulling him into a kiss. It was one of your more tamer thoughts when it came to Bucky as of recently, but this was something you needed to control -- for the sake of your friendship.

“Is the something wrong?”

“Nah,” you say softly and give him a bright smile, which he doesn’t completely believe but before he can say anything else on the subject.  

“--Agent Romanoff and Mr. Wilson are waiting for you,” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice cuts in, as you quickly get up and Bucky wants to stop you, yell at you about taking better care of yourself -- that you can lean on him if need be. However, all that stops dead in his throat, as you start to walk out of the room.

“Doll,” he manages to saw, as you look at him with tired and hollow eyes but give him the brightest smile that you can -- Bucky knows that you are lying, but he’s too afraid ask what the major problem is behind your recent behavior.

“Yeah?” you answer back, looking back while standing close to the entrance way. Blue eyes watch you, completely mesmerized for a moment before putting everything he is feeling and trying to let out into two little words.  

“Stay safe,” he says, as you nod with a crushed heart hoping he would have said something else.

Yet, as stated before, you are a reckless sort of thing that push your powers a little too far when you need the most, as you end up with a bullet in your shoulder in the latest mission with Nat and Sam, and unconscious for nearly 3 days as your healing ability tries to catch up with the damage done to your body. Bucky is a mess that only Sam and Steve are able handle, and then just barely as he watches for the hospital ward whenever he can and everything that he had been denying finally blooms in front of him.

“Steve, I think I’m…”  Bucky explains what he is feeling towards you (what he is sure that he has felt for a long time under the disguise of friendship)  to the blond, as Sam watches from the other side of the room a smug smile on his face as the blond just shakes his head.

“Well, took you long enough, Buck,” Steve says with a smile, as Sam laughs. Blue eyes take in his two best friends, as if they don’t understand the struggle he had been going through for the past couple of hours since he had seen you come back on a stretcher.  And while, yes it was a serious situation both Sam and Steve already knew that you were going to pull through, and a little extra thing, that Bucky didn’t.

“You knew,” he questions before looking at Steve and then back to Sam.

“It’s been kinda of obvious for awhile, Tinman,” Sam chuckles out, “Just gotta wait for Sleeping Beauty to return your feelings.”

“And why do you think she would?” Bucky asks desperately, looking for any sign that you might feel something besides friendship towards him. Sam just keeps grinning.

“Think back to when she started taking all those missions.”

Bucky does think long and hard about the time a few months back that you started increasing how many missions you were going on and for a moment he decides that nothing is any different. You hung out, trained together, and you had even helped him decide how he was going to go dressed for his first date in quite a long time -- and there it is. He had started dating more actively and seeking your help to do so, by the 3rd you were out with Steve and Nat on a mission in Portugal and his time with you slowly decreasing. But, you couldn’t have the same feelings, could you?  

The giddiness of such potential leaves Bucky sleepless into the 3rd day of your time in the medical ward, though you are awake and talking now. It isn’t until the middle of the night that he decides to finally visit you. And there you are sitting wide awake in your hospital bed, still a clear insomniac. He comes to stand near your bed, as you give him a timid smile.

“Hey Buck,” you reach out with your good arm as he takes your hand to have him sit as close as he can. The near death experience and your feelings wanting to have him closer than usual, even if just for a moment, “Been busy?”

Bucky can’t help but frown a little at the tone of your voice, as if you think he would be anywhere else but here, so for once he decides to voice it out, “I was just sorting some things out is all.”

“Like what?” you ask, almost afraid of what he has to say in the darkness of the medical ward.  

“I just wanna know something, please” he asks timidly like a scolded child and you can’t help but hold his hand a bit tighter for a moment, “Have you been taking all these missions to avoid me?”

“I-I..and if I was?”

“Why would you do that?” Bucky questions, as you take a deep gulp of air trying not to break down right then and there.

“Because I realized that I didn’t wanna see you smiling or laughing with anyone that wasn’t me,” you admit, tears in the corners of your eyes when you realize you have his full attention, which all you have wanted for quite some time now, “ I want all of you, Bucky .”

Bucky waits until you are done talking for him to pull you in as much as he can. He grabs your cheek with his right hand, as you find yourself staring at sparkling blues that hold so much promise and feeling in them -- that wholeheartedly return your feelings. Your foreheads touch as he whispers softly if he can kiss you, which you eagerly do before he can. It’s a small peck on the lips that slowly turns hot and needy, as if savoring that you guys have finally discovered each other after being in denial for so long.     

“God, I wanna murder someone,” you can’t help but groan out after breaking the kiss and moving your shoulder just a bit due to staying still in one place for such a long time, before laying back down.  

“Maybe, when you’re medically cleared, doll,” Bucky grins, already planning some pranks for those teammates that had known about yours and his actual feelings, but in particular Sam who seemed to enjoy the constant state of limbo that Bucky had been placed over this.   

“I guess we’ve been pretty stupid, huh?” you can’t help but admit bashfully, as Bucky sinks into the left side of your hospital bed, not wanting to let go of you for the rest of the night -- not, when he finally has you so close to him after such a long time.

“Just a little,” he laughs before looking down at your figure and thinking just how lucky he was, even if it came with some stupid moves on both your parts, which causes him to stop for a moment.

“Doll?” he questions, as you look at him, “We’re gonna have to talk about you running away from your feelings when ya get out. I don’t think my old heart can handle you visiting the hospital ward again.”  

You look at him, slack jawed and full of embarrassment before agreeing with another kiss to seal the deal.  

[wannabe-art]

Soldiers - flats. Wip

Now you see it? ;)

Support my coffee addiction- www.ko-fi.com/PethKay

[hellocontingencies]

The Monument of a Memory

Warnings: Cheating, Angst, Little Steam but nothing graphic.

Summary: Like glass shattering into a million pieces, unable to pick up all the pieces. Like a broken relationship, it’s beyond repair. All that’s left is the monument of a memory. Tied with the song ‘Various Storms & Saints’ by Florence + The Machine

A/N: So inspired by all the Angst.

The monument of a memory You tear it down in your head

In the years of being married to Bucky, he never forgot a date or anniversary, the winning streak stopped a few months ago. The spontaneity slowed down, the surprised flowers stopped, only the dried ones in the vase from weeks ago never being replaced. The morning kisses turned into dry, kiss-less ‘Good Mornings’.

The endless hugs turned into cold side hugs. The deep conversations turned into brief small talk

I’m in the throes of it Somewhere in the belly of the beast But you took your toll on me

Missions once few, he now requested more and more. The endless excuses of not wanting to worry about you and it clouding his ability to focus on field, causing him to switch teammates with the new recruit, Neena, high level mercenary. Disapproving, unable to understand why, in the six years of being partners, why now the sudden change, you never once failed in protecting him with your skills. Why now? 

“Y/N, I’ve explained my reason a hundred times. I’m not going to explain it again” walking away from you, duffel bag in hand, his aggravation growing more and more. Leaning against the door-frame watching him pack for his week long mission, brows furrowed “Bucky, six years, six years I’ve covered you back, I still don’t get it? Half of those years we were together I just-”

He slams the drawer, shocked goose bumps rapidly spread through your body. “Enough Y/N”.

Sighing running his hands over his face sitting on the bed, holding his head in his hands, “My last few hours with you I don’t want to leave with another argument. Please Y/N, ju-just let’s not.” He looks up with pleading eyes, arms out stretched for you to walk into. The arms you always felt secure in, now feeling unsure. But you reluctantly walk into his arms, pushing aside the alarming feeling. Holding onto you he kisses your collarbone, cupping your face to level with his, he kisses you passionately. Passion that you haven’t felt in months, he leans back onto the bed taking you with him.

So I gave myself over willingly Oh, you got a hold on me

It had been so long since he last worshiped your body. The sensation that once coursed through your body when you ran your hands through his hair. The now foreign, intensity of his cool hand, you forgot how much you craved the feeling. 

I don’t know how I don’t just stand outside and scream I am teaching myself how to be free

Just give in Y/N, nothings changed, this is Bucky, your Bucky. The one you opened up to, the one you vowed to love forever and he vowed to you.

He made you say his name over and over again. But yours never rang once from his lips. Somethings changed. The alarms going off in your head that you kept at bay, now ringing even louder.

Your back to him, you lay still. He dresses telling you he’ll be back in a week or so. Replaying the moment of being engulfed in his body. It wasn’t the same, the Bucky that loved every inch of your body held you close, worshiped you, not wanting to let go. But in that moment, he wanted to let go. He’s let you go, and he let you go a long time ago.

The monument of a memory You tear it down in your head

During the week you go through your regular routine. The regular routine that finally opened your eyes, realizing you’ve been living with a stranger for months. He hasn’t looked at you the same, he hasn’t touched you the same, he barely talks to you. You kept worshiping him like some monument, the monument that’s slowly crumbled.

Don’t make the mountain your enemy Get out, get up there instead You saw the stars out in front of you Too tempting not to touch But even though it shocked you Something’s electric in your blood

“It’s all in your head” you mutter to yourself. Trying to put all your focus and worries on the piling paper work. “You can fix this, we’ll fix this, we always do.” you try to reassure yourself but doubt rising in the pit of your stomach.

And people just untie themselves Uncurling lifelines If you could just forgive yourself

The day of your wedding anniversary has arrived, also the day Bucky returns from his mission. A romantic meal for the two of you will be best. By the time you shop around for his gift. A gift that you hope will piece everything together. Will this bring everything back together?

But you had to have him, and so you did

“James Buchanan you are in for the best Anniversary dinner ever. I got your fav-”  Looking around, being welcomed by silence and darkness. “Bucky?” You turn on the kitchen lights, putting the groceries on the counter, he’s still not home.

Finishing up dinner you wash up and put on your favorite fitted black dress with the dropped emerald earrings Bucky got you on your last anniversary. You put on the last finishing touch of your red matte lipstick and make your way downstairs and pour yourself a glass of red wine. Sitting at the table to wait for Bucky to arrive you check the time.

Two hours turn into four, no sign of Bucky. You’ve sent ten messages, and left  voicemail’s. No text, or call from him. You call again, someone picks, someone that’s not Bucky “Whoever this is, stop blowing up Bucky’s phone. He’s a little busy right now, doing me.” 

The phone slides out of your hand, colliding with the floor.

Bucky frantically rushes out the bathroom in only his jeans “Did you answer my phone?! Neena who was it?”

Neena pulls the sheets up, brows furrowing “Your wife, if she didn’t know then, she knows now. No need to hide anymore.”

“No..no no no, Jesus Christ Neena!!” Bucky scrambles to grab his shirt and shoes, darting to the door.

Dialing your number frantically “Pick up Y/N, pick up.”

Answering with your voice trembling “Happy anniversary, Buck.” You raise the empty wine bottle in the air, cheering to nothing but the air. The tears now streams, the perfect make-up now down your cheeks.

“Y/N! Please, doll, just listen to me okay? Don’t- just, Jesus Christ I didn’t want it to happen like this.” You hang up. 

Taking off the emerald earrings, you place them on top of Bucky’s last gift, along with your wedding ring. You walk up to the bedroom, a place that once held such intimately fond memories.

 Pulling out your bag you pack as much of your belongs you can. Closing the last drawer, you look up seeing a candid moment of Bucky in shock seeing you in your wedding dress for the first time.

The emotions hit you like a freight train. Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion. Inside you’re self-destructing, unable to process the picture perfect life that just crumbled before you in mere seconds. The signs, the doubt, your once protected heart you handed to the man that you gave everything to, that you let in. The man that was your monument, that could fall but be rebuilt, now the monument of your memory. With a blood curdling scream, you smash the picture on the floor. Full of rage, you break every picture frame, every memory.

Composing yourself, grabbing your bag you rush down the steps. Writing your final words you place it on top of the table. Running out the door not sure were to go, but you can’t stay here.

I know you’re bleeding, but you’ll be okay.

Your heart is there, it’s in your hands

I know it seems like forever I know it seems like an age But one day this will be over I swear it’s not so far away

Bucky bursts through the door, running up the stairs “Y/N! Y/N, please.” Seeing the disarray of the room, he panics. “God, no.. no.” He calls your phone the ringing of it echos from downstairs. Rushing down to the living room he see’s your phone on top of the set table for two,a note placed on top

Picking up the note, his tears stain the paper causing the ink on the paper to run.

‘You stopped loving me a long time ago Bucky.

No longer your’s,

Y/N’

Your voicemail plays through his phone “Hey you’ve reached Y/N Barnes, sorry I missed your call. I’ll call you back as soon as I can. Goodbye!”

Sobs course through his body “I’m so sorry, come back to me Y/N…please..”

Conclusion.