#slight bucky angst

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

No One Else

This idea came to me whilst I was lying on my bed so here you Bucky fans go! You're welcome! Reader has fire powers in this fic and it's set in an AU where Bucky lives in the Avengers Tower + goes on missions with them.

Summary: Your marriage proposal to Bucky doesn't quite go how you expected it to...

"Can't believe we're actually doing Operation: Rescue the Genius Billionaire." You twirl the knife in your hand, sliding it into its sheath as you stand up, stretching.

"You're the one who volunteered for it. And then proceeded to volunteer me," Bucky snorts, double checking his rifle. "You only have yourself to blame for this."

"Hey, this means we'll probably get to share his black card. Think of all the expensive things we could buy!" You laugh. "Or at least I hope we'll be able to."

"Did you just sign us up for a dangerous mission with no guaranteed reward?" Bucky shakes his head, ruffling your hair. "If either of us die on this mission I'm blaming you."

"Good thing we're both pretty hard to kill." You flash him a grin, moving to the door of the plane. It's almost at your destination and adrenaline is coursing through your veins. Blue flames flicker at your fingertips, ready to be unleashed at a moment's notice. You can't recall the last time you felt this excited to go on a mission, maybe it's the fact that you've been partnered up with your favourite super soldier after what feels like forever, maybe it's the fact that Tony is going to owe you a big favour after this, or maybe it's the thrill of the fight to come.

"Fortunately." Bucky hums, walking over to stand next to you. "The amount of stupidity you bring along on missions would've killed a normal person at least a hundred times over."

"Hey I'm blaming the influence a certain idiot has on me. You know, the idiot currently standing in the same plane as me because he couldn't turn me down." You feel Bucky place his hand on your back, patting you a few times before adding a little more force as the door opens and sends you flying out of the plane. Thousands of feet in the air without a parachute. This bastard.

A long string of swear words flow from your lips, spoken in every language you can think of and you swear Bucky is laughing from up inside the plane. You can picture it clearly, his lips quirking upwards, the mirth in his ice blue eyes, the pat on the back he definitely gave himself before diving out of the plane.

Oh.

You twist your body so that you face upwards just in time to see a figure diving towards you. More curses spill forth as said figure wraps his arms around you, grinning as if the both of you aren't falling through the air with no parachute in sight.

"You know you're not that light, right?" You grunt, resisting the urge to bite him.

"Pure muscle and a metal arm, doll." He flashes you a smirk as you try to pry the super soldier off you to no avail.

"If we both go splat on the ground it's your fault."

"Then you're just going to have to ensure that doesn't happen, doll. I'm counting on you." You hate it when he says those four words. It always makes you fold and he knows it.

"You — You're going to be the death of me someday," you scowl. He only laughs, brown hair fluttering in the wind as you both plummet towards the ground and you feel your chest grow strangely warm. Your heart pounds against the ribs that cage it, stomach flipping when his eyes meet yours, his gaze soft and carefree. "Don't regret relying on me."

"Do I ever?" His thumb brushes over your skin, electricity crackling at the contact and you nearly lose concentration. You swallow, pushing his face away and he laughs again, the sound a beautiful melody to your ears. Shoving your bubbling feelings down, you focus on your descent towards the ground that is coming up to meet you rather fast.

"Hang on tight!" Gathering the flames within you, you push them outwards via your feet and shoot towards the warehouse where Tony is being kept, adrenaline causing your lips to curl upwards into a maniacal grin. Blue flames roar around the both of you, under your firm control and devour the roof of the warehouse before it can even touch either of you.

"Look who finally decided to show up." Tony smirks, watching you and Bucky land in a fiery blaze next to him. "And with such a fiery entrance too, what a show-off."

"You're welcome." You roll your eyes, meeting Bucky's gaze. He nods, and you conjure a ring of flames around the three of you, pushing it outwards as he lunges at the nearest kidnapper. A quick flick of the wrist from you burns through the ropes holding Tony hostage and you turn your attention to the fight happening in front of you.

Dodging the swing of an electrified baton, you slam your foot into your attacker's chest, sending him stumbling backwards. Fire daggers follow suit, flying in his direction and he slams into the wall, slumping to the floor. Whirling around, you fire a blast of flame at someone who was trying to ambush Bucky from behind and throw up a flame wall to give the super soldier a moment of respite. He shoots you a glance and gives a signal before jumping through the blue wall of fire, unloading his rifle's magazine into the unfortunate souls in front of him. A quick reload later he spins around, taking aim and fires another barrage but this time around his bullets are reinforced by your flames, piercing through the air at a startling speed and hitting their targets.

It doesn't take long for the kidnappers to fall to the combined might of you and the Winter Soldier. Before long there's only three beings left standing in the warehouse — you, Bucky and Tony.

"Go team," Tony cheers sarcastically, clapping as he makes his way over. "Didn't expect either of you, really."

"You're welcome. Now as for payment, I'll take your black card for at least one week with no spending limit —" You're cut off as Bucky shoves you aside.

"Ignore the idiot. A helicopter is on its way to pick us up, it'll be here in fifteen." Bucky ignores the punches you're landing on his right shoulder and ruffles your hair.

"I'm the idiot? When you jumped out of the plane without a parachute?" You yelp, dodging his attempts to further mess up your hair.

"I knew you'd catch me. That's called trust, not idiocy."

"It's called idiocy when you dive straight at me in midair!"

"I knew you'd be able to create an entrance into the warehouse, I simply tagged along so we'd get here faster."

"We could have died if I couldn't conjure enough flame to send us both flying here!"

"But we didn't."

"That doesn't mean you're not an idiot! It just means I'm powerful enough, you idiot!"

"Maybe the idiocy is contagious. I think you've spread it to me, doll." He laughs, leaning out of the way of your punch. "We can be idiots together!"

"I'm not an idiot!" You tackle him to the ground which only causes him to laugh harder. He effortlessly blocks your fists, ice blue eyes twinkling with mirth before flipping you over, trapping you underneath his bulk.

"Don't worry doll, being an idiot isn't always a bad thing —"

"Get off me you oaf!" You howl.

Tony sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The two of you argue like a married couple, just get married already and spare the rest of us."

Bucky blinks, staring at Tony while you push him off you, climbing to your feet.

"Yeah so when are we getting married?" You run your fingers through your hair, stretching. He stares at you blankly, mouth opening and closing. You see his throat bob, his metal fist clenching and unclenching — his usual signs of nervousness and feel your heart plummet. He doesn't say anything, not a single word falls from his snarky tongue. Your attention quickly shifts to the helicopter that has arrived just in time to prevent a lengthy period of awkward silence but the ride back to the Avengers Tower is filled with tension that makes even Tony uncomfortable.

Once the helicopter lands, Bucky doesn't even try to help you down. He simple leaves, walking straight to his room and locks the door without speaking a single word to you. You watch as he leaves, barely hearing Tony's passing apology through the ringing in your ears and feel a pit growing in your stomach.

Is this it? After all that time spent cultivating this relationship with Bucky that you love and cherish, this is how it ends?

After taking a much needed shower, you collapse onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. Did you overstep? Had you read your relationship wrong? Curling underneath your blanket, you swallow the tears that threaten to spill over, fingernails digging into the flesh of your palm. You want nothing more than to take it all back, to preserve your relationship with Bucky. It brought you so much joy, happiness, even if sometimes you didn't act like it did. You had cherished all the time spent with him, whether it was fooling around or going on missions, the only thing that mattered was the fact that you had someone to tease, banter with, be yourself with.

"Y/N?" A voice sounds from outside your room door. Bucky. "May I come in?"

You pause, gripping the sheets. Your heart thunders, anxiety gnawing away at you but your hand finds its way to the door handle and pulls the door open anyways. The brunette shifts anxiously then pulls out a box of your favourite snacks, offering it to you.

"A peace offering?" He bites his lip, gaze flicking to everywhere but you.

"Sure." The word clogs up your throat and you take the box, stepping to the side to let him in. Closing the door behind you, you gesture to the bed. "You can take a seat there."

He nods, taking his usual spot on your bed and you take your seat next to him. He plays with the hem of his shirt, Adam's apple bobbing and exhales sharply. "Did you mean it? When you asked when we were getting married?"

You blink, mouth opening and closing before giving a nod. "I did."

The words come out as a whisper, your chest constricting and tears begin to blur your vision. "I'm sorry I —"

"No, you didn't do anything wrong." Bucky reaches over, taking your hand in his. "It's just…are you sure about it? I'm not someone you should be stuck with for the rest of your life. You deserve someone better, someone who can give you the life you deserve, the family you seek. I can't give you any of that."

"So who do you think can?" You squeeze his hand, looking him in the eye. "Tony? Steve?"

"Tony would be a pretty good choice. He's handsome, rich, can take care of you —"

"Yeah sure Tony is handsome. But he's not the one I call handsome, is he?" You lean in. "You're the one I call handsome."

"That — that's because —" His cheeks redden and he looks away, embarrassed.

"You're the one I want, not Tony, not Steve, not anyone else. I know what I'm getting into, proposing to you but I want this. I've never been more sure of anything in my life, I know I want you in my life forever, to be by my side forever, to intertwine my fate with yours and be yours as much as you are mine. I know the burdens you carry, you know the burdens I carry, and I'm willing to help you shoulder yours, if you will let me." You gently turn his face towards you, earnestly looking into his ice blue eyes. He locks gazes with you and you see the tears that have started to form.

"Will you?"

He blinks and tears start to flow down his cheeks. You simply continue to hold onto his hand and feel him squeeze yours.

"If you will have me."

You beam, pulling him in for a kiss that he returns with a hungry desperation and feel his metal arm wrap around you.

"Of course I will," you whisper breathlessly, breaking the kiss for air. "I love you, James."

"I love you too, Y/N." He cups your cheek with both hands, metal and flesh thumb brushing over your skin then presses his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

"This wasn't how I expected my proposal to go, really. I had something way better planned out but Tony had to just go and ruin it." You chuckle softly and he smiles.

"You can propose to me again, doll. I don't mind."

"I'd quite like to get married, thank you very much handsome." You boop him on the nose, laughing at the way he wrinkles it immediately.

"So, Tony's black card?" He queries, ruffling your hair.

"Of course. We're going to put the wedding tab on him, on top of a few other valuable items as payment for rescuing him. He can't say no, not after he told us to get married." You grin, swatting his hand away before your hair can get messed up even further. "I can't wait to choose all the most expensive options."

Bucky huffs in amusement, catching your hand and presses a kiss to your palm. "I can't wait to get married to you. You're the only one for me, no one else."

"You're the only one for me," you echo, smiling. "No one else."

[wannabespiderman]

Starving.

Thank you so much to everyone that was so nice to like and reblog my previous post <3 I really appreciate it and it gave me inspiration to write more! Fair warning that I wrote this while being a little tipsy so some typos may have occured.

Bucky Barnes x reader

Bucky completely forgot what it was like to be touched in a way that wasn't punishing. Well, until he met you.

.

.

.

Bucky Barnes was a conundrum. He was strong, stoic and had a head through the wall attitude. On the inside though…he was like a frail house of cards on a windy day. It was about a fifty-fifty chance if he turned cold or broke down. Well, actually, when he was out and about he would derealize and turn passive a hundred percent of the time. With you on the other hand, in the confinement of your own home, this massive, build man would turn into a weeping little boy. At first he didn’t know what to do with himself when his walls broke down in front of you. It was a feeling he wasn’t familiar with and the vulnerability made him feel small and weak, something he experienced regularly while he was still with hydra, something that he wasn’t allowed to show back then.

The same night he broke down in front of you for the first time you had your arms wrapped around him before his tears could even start to fall. Bucky’s mind went haywire the second your body touched his.

It was like he couldn’t comprehend how a touch could be this soft and warm, so void of anger or malicious intent.

It felt like it made him almost feel worse but at the same time he couldn’t bring himself to rip himself away from you.

And then he got hooked.

He was always flirty with you and heavy on the PDA, constantly having his hand on your waist or leg or hell, even on your ass while his face was buried in your hair. He could touch you easily, shower you in physical affection in front of anyone who was unfortunate enough to hang out with you two at the same time.

When you touched him, you had to be alone because that was the time his guard went down. Only you were allowed to hear him sniffle and whimper and see him curl into a ball on your bed while he let you run your fingers through his hair. Bucky never talked about why he cried so you could only speculate if someone said something triggering or if last night’s nightmares tortured him throughout the day but you didn’t ask him about it. All you knew was that he needed your touch and you were not only happy to give him that, you took this job very seriously.

You’d tenderly catch his tear drops with your thumb while he leaned into your touch like it was his oxygen and held him in your arms when he basically folded himself in half to fit into them. But it wasn’t only when he was sad or overwhelmed that he needed your touch, actually it was allowed any time of the day as long as you two were alone. He appreciated every small brush of your hand when you gestured too much with your hands or tried to push past him in the narrow hallway and almost every time a small sound would escape him. He was just…addicted as he’d call it. Addicted to your soft hands that fit the equally soft touch.

He'd say he’s addicted while you knew the truth. The poor man was touch starved and hell, if you weren’t gonna be the one who’d give him what he so terribly needed.

[samodivaa]

Training Techniques

Winter Soldier x Reader He is not allowed to move an inch—he can only watch you pleasure yourself—but why is there a ring on your finger?

Warnings - smut, light angst, mastrubation(f), rough sex, choking, breeding kink Words - 2600 ⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ You have absolutely no pleasure in the work in which you sometimes so madly indulge—training the assets with delicacy of words with which their handlers don’t approve of—Soldat is your favorite, with his expression of endless and unconditional gratitude and a silent promise of complicity unto death—he may not remember your face, but he always remembers your voice, its' gentleness. The soporific air of your room, in the soft breath of bread and sweets—he was sent there, because he was misbehaving again.

It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that you have periled this life and reputation—but here you are—on your bed trying to sleep when you see him sitting on the chair, waiting. And this isn't a romance. You're not a damsel in distress and he is not the handsome prince who comes to save you—this is his desperate attempt to escape from torturing memories, from a sense of insupportable loneliness and a dread of the impending doom, but they didn’t know that.

You know.

He can't stop looking at you—Soldat is gazing at a distant star. It's dazzling, but the light is from tens of thousands of years ago, because he is not allowed to move until you instruct him to.

Subconsciously, he licks his lips at the sight at your body in a night dress and wonder if he will ever just cum in your mouth as you suck him off to your knees…or if he’ll take you by the hair before he’s finished and fuck you into a sobbing heap before blowing his load. It doesn’t seem worth the risk —but he wanted this for so long now, he needs to voice it.

“Please-” —an irrational and indulgent mistake. you stand up on your elbows in shock at the word he utters—his eyes drift leisurely back up to your face and his lips twitch. Soldat has fallen into a state of feverish lust, but that is not a justification for his disobedience. His heart goes into a shameless delirium when your eyes meet. “Desperate?” you mock, but underneath the mockery Soldat finds a reservoir of understanding. You lay back on the bed as nothing has happened, and your voice takes on a restful strength “I still need to punish you for that, Winter” He behaves as naturally, with such discretion, that he does not lose his composure, not even when you remove your wedding ring—who committed the impertinence of marrying you? He goes through a crisis of disappointment, fury, jealousy, but this is your way of giving Soldat a layer of respect—he wants to call it loyalty. And maybe you can be his or maybe you will be entwined in this sexless foreplay tonight.

He wants to ask so many questions, but he can’t. Not now. There is a pent-up curiosity, hysteria of his unsatisfied needs, unnaturally suppressed communion and also a kind of tense respect, because if he is obedient enough—he will be rewarded.

“You will watch me, that's all you will do for now” you say, your voice has sunk to a whisper. Your words stoke a warmness in his stomach, a fire in his crotch. And he doesn’t care what you will do with him—even if you want to cut him, sharpen him however you please—that's all he knows anyways. He wants this memory to stay what it is, one intense moment, something that is strong and sweet enough to stand on its own. Your room has turned into an idyllic paradise for a good many years, your skin glistening in the light coming from the slits in the blinds as your hands play with your breast through the nightgown. He has lost his voice and a thread of cold sweat runs down the path of his spine, suffocating with heat, because of the black leather clothes—the stiff collar and the tight harness that is restricting his breathing, is becoming increasingly annoying.

His eyes are growing moist with indignation, with angry impotence, and for the first time, he is barely controlling himself. It is the natural sequel of an unnatural beginning—he needs to be patient, but it’s hard—not harder than his cock—It's more erotic, more intense to watch you touch yourself. He is master of what he does, but never of what he desires. You are greatly overestimating his self-control. But this is what you are testing tonight—his ability to subordinate the impulse to fuck you. Self-control might be as passionate and as active as the surrender to passion, but you need to show him who is in charge while your panties are becoming steadily slicker. All you need to do is to tell him to come, but you refrain from doing the thing you want so badly—to be consumed by Winter. You glance up to find his eyes blazing with raw need—blue orbits pleading for you to command him. You spread your legs open, positioning yourself in front of him—one hand still toying with your nipple while the fingers of the other hook in your panties and drag them down your legs slowly before throwing them in his direction. His breath stutters as they land on his left boot and Soldat eyes them wickedly, knowing that all he can do is watch. 

"Good, very good, Soldat '' you coo, sliding two fingers into your core, scissoring and stretching, curling over the one sweet spot—imagining his metal digits. You remove them as your index finger takes their place, rubbing slow, torturous circles on your clit, sliding down to tease your opening, then back up. Over and over again.

He slides his tongue across his teeth, remembering the taste of your nectar, becoming more and more aroused with every beat of his heart that runs down his shaft.

“I want you so much, gosh” he is stirred by the lust in your smooth voice. You are breathing deep with your mouth wide open—he doesn’t blink, he doesn’t dare blink. Soldat can swear he feels the pressure of your palms on his cheeks—or is it a memory? Everything is a memory to him. “I want you here, fucking me” There is something raw and pleading in your voice that surpasses sexual desire, these fleeting moments of carnal craving.

With the auspicious attention of a strained killing machine, he examines your fingers, your shivering body and listens to your muffled moans meticulously. It is such a tumultuous and intemperate invasion to his mind—your scandalous behavior is pulling at every string of his nerves and self-control.

It is such a prolonged act, so meticulous, so rich in all aspects as you are giving yourself over to the deserved adoration of your own body and pleasure. It leaves Soldat breathless at the tremendous spectacle of your nudity and lack of shame as you bring yourself closer to the edge.

“Jesus-I am so close” You confess, surprised at how fast the arousal is budding. You arch your back and hips buckle like an electric current runs through your body, moaning, rubbing your clit faster, forcing yourself to let out a louder moan. The orgasm wrecks your body from head to toe and being watched by a ferocious male is exciting—all he needs is a feeling as primitive and as simple as that of love.

You see his eyes, still unblinking and you feel menaced by some invisible danger—you are keenly aware of every movement, every breath you take. Lust is a weed that grows in the vacant lots of an abandoned mind and the stacks of bad words that you have been forced to swallow, spills “Soldat, come here” you command, languid and serious.

You lick your lips, trying to quench the thirst for him. Your throat is dry as you watch him between your spread legs, getting up and slowly coming towards the bed as his thick, black pants fall to the floor around his feet, the belt clattering noisily. Winter craws on top of you and he cannot articulate a word, capable only of an animal sound, a strangulated wheeze that shocks him deeply, enraging him, this sudden loss of the faculty of speech that feels somehow bestial and forgotten. He breathes, his chest rising and falling so close to yours.

“Kiss m-” you whisper the words, and before you even finish saying them, his mouth is on yours and you are melting under his lips, eyes flutter shut—and it is blissful oblivion—giving you the most intense and explosive kiss you two have ever shared. With the coldness of his lips and the warmth of his tongue beneath yours, you vow an endless bliss. He pulls back with a groan—Winter’s sky-blue eyes stare back into yours, and in his eyes you can see no parting from you. You put your hands on either side of his face, and the room falls away. You have never gotten so lost in a kiss before. And the kiss is not gentle. It is a wrestle of who would lead the excursion into the territory of passion and ecstasy, heat and unending craving for one another. You suck on his lower lip between your teeth and he lets out a low groan. It sounds almost aggravated and definitely impatient. Fire looks into his quiet eyes, touches his dear, familiar face—you lean upwards for a moment and dip your head towards his ear, grazing his soft skin with your teeth, while your hand slides to the harness. Soldat stills, angling his mouth towards your bare, perfect neck. You feel a warm slickness on your skin, his tongue trailing a path towards your shoulder.

It is a wild, animalistic compulsion, an urgent need as he suddenly slots himself between your legs and you turn your head away. Your fear is returning, crawling through your limbs and leaving you numb to everything. You shut your eyes, gripping the sheets, and whimper when he pushes himself inside you. He releases a ragged breath before moving, slow but with purpose, and you simply take it with soft whimpers and gasps as he pumps in and out of you, now starting to set a steady pace. His eyes, the blue completely gone from his them, soften for a moment and he kisses you tenderly before he whispers in your ear, his breath puffs against your skin. He spends a good amount of time on your neck, a brief stop at the base of your throat—he wants to bite you, but he can’t—something melts inside Soldat that hurts in an exquisite way—you are not his. “Who did you marry, Snow White?” He asks, voice throbbing with menace—before slipping inside you again and burying himself to the hilt. Sex with you this time is different, he has never felt this dominant, this claiming. He is so far in that his balls are right against your lips. You arch your back and moan “It doesn’t matter” as he slides back out nearly all the way before slamming into you hard and fast. You wrap your legs around his waist as he slams into you over and over, the only sound in the room is the skin slapping. You close your eyes and swallow. Your mouth parts and stills—your voice is barely a whisper as his tip touches your cervix. “Pierce…I am closer to ruining his plans, closer to freeing you” Despite your eyelids being tightly shut, a single, hot tear runs out of your eye. You are so angry that it has escaped—so angry—he stops his trusts completely. You moan as you feel his movement out of you. Then, as he almost has the tip fully out, he slaps it back in. When your eyes meet his gaze as you are sitting here staring at each other, time stops. Your fingertips reach to trace the metal shoulder, but he grasps your hand with his own. He leans down, far enough that the ends of his hair brush feather-light against your face, catching in your lashes and tears.

His breath, warm and measured, hits your cheek. Two breaths. Three. Then you stop breathing, and a second later, you feel his lips on your mouth. It is hungry, desperate. His metal hand wraps around your neck, thumb presses into the skin—you moan, it ripples over your nerve endings. His breath caresses your ear again—his grip on your neck tightens. And this makes you always still and submit…the act of Winter taking shameful, contemptuous possession of you is the kind of rapture you want.

“Next time-” you try, but with your restricted of oxygen brain, you are not able to. He tastes passion. He tastes lust. He tastes his power over you. He tastes a world of stimulants he’d never imagined. You are right there in front of him, he can do whatever he wants. Winter loosens his hold—only to observe you as you breathe raggedly, sliding down slowly, a moan ripping from your throat. 

“Next time he calls you in his house, I will be there, too”

I have nothing to give but my heart so full and these empty hands.

“I need to kill them one by one, Winter” His mouth curves into a smile—his eyes are light blue and dancing with life. He pauses for only a fraction of a second. Then he leans forward and presses his lips to yours "Okay, yeah, yeah" a devil-soft whisper. He blinks several times like he is trying to comprehend your plan word by word. His trusts become so hormonal—you want his roughness. His other hand slips to your waist, pushing you into the mattress as he fucks you. For him, sex intimately relates to the most primitive kind of human contact, which can satisfy all of his needs he has been deprived from. "Winter " you gaspe breathlessly "Slow down" You try to let out a choked squeal, but his metal hand tightens around your neck again, muffling any sounds, your toes curling as he brings you steadily closer and closer to orgasm, reeling from the thrill and the fear from both his forceful thrusts of his powerful hips and the choking. Soldat is unrelenting in his domination of your body. But you are his at this moment, your cunt clenching around him while you mewls and grunts fill his ears, he can’t slow down even one bit. Logic would say that this is insane, every other fibre of his being says it's right—he has to fill you up. You can't move. You can't breathe. And his pace. And the adrenaline. “I will cum inside—dear Snow White” This is his demarcation line, all of a sudden it seems unfair to withhold it from you. Your inner muscles tighten as waves of pleasure start to build and ripple out. You don’t normally get off this fast, but you are lost in the exquisite sensations—you put your hands on his metal arm as your body bursts into flames, your fingers curling into the metal. You can’t make a sound and it is a shame, because it is the best orgasm you ever had. It is unbearable, unreal, unimaginable—it is too much as your eyes can only see darkness due to the choking. You can only hear a broken and hoarse cry escaping his lips, his warm come filling you up completely.

You can hear his breath, as your vision slowly becomes solid—a stray lock of dark hair falls into his eyes as he is looking down—he moves his hips back and then into you again, enjoying his cock being in a tub of cum, swimming in your honey.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Weight Of The Past - Bucky Barnes X GN Reader

Title: Weight Of The Past

Bucky Barnes X GN Reader

Additional Characters: HYDRA (Mentioned)

Requested By: Anon

WC: 1,389

Warnings: Insecurities, italics, Civil War never happened AU, Bucky stays at the Tower, trauma mentioned, his Winter Soldier days mentioned, Bucky's self-deprecating thoughts, scars mentioned, hurt/comfort, angst, and fluff

It was in the way you looked at him. Like he was just Bucky - like he had never been anything else. He didn’t understand it. Not when you knew everything. Not when you'd seen the worst of him, the things he still saw when he closed his eyes. But then you’d laugh - soft, unguarded - and for a second, he’d almost forget. 

Back then, he didn’t really get to know you, not when he was focused on healing; no more codes, no more triggers, just trauma. But when he came back to the Tower, that’s when he saw you again. He wasn’t sure how you found your way into his life, or why you stayed. He didn’t deserve it. Where did you learn how to love someone like him?

It was late. About eleven-thirty. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of the city outside the windows, halfway covered by his curtains, but Bucky’s mind was far from quiet. He laid there, awake, eyes tracing the ceiling. His metal arm was stashed away for the night, resting beside the bed. The scars on his skin, however, were still there, pressing against him, an ever-present reminder of who he used to be, who he still felt like sometimes. They itched in places, reminding him of the chaos, the violence, the things he couldn’t wash away no matter how many times he scrubbed. Sometimes he could still see blood.

You were curled into his side, the warmth of your body a stark contrast to the cold uncertainty that swirled in his chest. Your leg draped over his waist and your arms wrapped around his chest. Your fingers brushed gently along his skin, barely awake, humming a soft melody. He still didn’t understand it. Your warmth, your touch, the way you held him close without hesitation. He’d never known peace like this, never known someone who didn't flinch when they saw the scars on his body or felt the cold metal of his arm.

Bucky didn’t know how to touch you without worrying he’d accidentally hurt you with his metal arm. He was afraid of it - of the power it had, of the way it could crush you if he tried. But you never flinched. Never pulled away from his touch, never cowered from the scars on his skin or the cold metal of his arm. Instead, you’d reach for him, take his hand when you stood beside him, and you clung to him as if he was the only thing holding you together. You’d kiss his scars when you could, murmuring how much you love them, how they were part of him, part of everything that makes him who he was now. And even though he didn’t understand it, even though it felt like he didn't deserve it, there’s a part of him that believed you, that believed in the love you offered him.

But still, it was hard.

He glanced down at you, watching as you drifted in and out of sleep, your peaceful hum lingering in the quiet of the room. You didn’t know how he felt, how the weight of everything still pressed on him, even with you laying next to him. You didn’t know how hard it was for him to accept that you loved him - scarred, broken, still haunted by the past.

And yet, somehow, here you were.

Bucky closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath, trying to let go of the worry, the insecurity, the fear that had lived inside him for so long. But it seemed that you had noticed his overwhelming thoughts. They were too loud, even in the silence of the night.

You stopped humming, the soft melody fading into the quiet room. Slowly, you nuzzled your cheek into his chest, pressing your face against the warmth of his skin. You were still half-asleep, but you always seemed to sense when something was off with him.

“You wanna talk about it?” You asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper, but it cut through the noise in his mind.

Bucky sighed deeply, his breath shaky, and he let his fingertips brush along the arm you had wrapped around him. “No,” He murmured, the word heavy with more than just the answer. He wanted to tell you everything, wanted to share the weight that crushed his chest. But he couldn’t. Not tonight. He wasn’t sure he ever could.

He felt you nod against his chest, your breath steady and calm. "That's okay," You whispered, the words soft, understanding. "You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to."

There you went again, offering him the kind of acceptance and love he didn’t know how to handle. He closed his eyes again, trying to ignore the way his heart twisted. He could feel you beside him, your warmth, your steady presence, and all he could do was hold you closer, afraid that if he let go for even a moment, you might slip away.

Bucky muttered something under his breath, so soft that you couldn’t quite catch it. You shifted, propping yourself up on your elbow, blinking through the haze of sleep to look at him. His eyes flickered to yours, and for a moment, he felt exposed under the soft light of your gaze. You tilted your head, your expression a mix of confusion and sleepiness, something so endearing about the way you looked at him. "I didn’t catch that.”

Bucky swallowed, the words feeling like they got caught in his throat, but he repeated himself, a quiet, almost broken, "Why don’t you leave?"

The question hung in the air, and for the first time, Bucky felt ashamed of asking it. The vulnerability he’d tried so hard to bury bubbled to the surface, and it took everything in him not to pull away from you.

You frowned, a small pout forming at the corners of your lips, and his heart sank. “Do you want me to go?”

He turned his head, his eyes avoiding yours, unable to face the hurt he saw flicker in your gaze. The words tasted bitter in his mouth, but he whispered, “No.”

The silence between you both deepened, and Bucky hated the distance that grew with it, even as you lay so close to him. But then, you moved. Gently, you reached out, your fingers warm as they cupped the side of his face, guiding him to look at you. He let you, though his jaw tensed under your touch. His eyes met yours, searching, waiting - maybe even bracing for whatever you’d say next.

You sighed softly, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone and stubble, a quiet sadness flickering in your expression. “I know that what I say won’t cure you instantly,” You murmured. “I know I can’t erase what’s going on inside your head, or change the way you see yourself overnight.” Your voice was steady, but there was something raw in it, something that made his throat tighten. “But I need you to understand,” You continued, leaning in just a little closer, “I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever. I love you, Bucky,” You whispered. “Every part of you.”

His fingers twitched where they rested against your arm, gripping just a little tighter. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he turned his face into your palm, pressing his lips against the inside of your wrist in a silent plea for comfort.

His flesh hand came up, covering yours against his cheek. “… I don’t deserve you,” He muttered.

You shook your head softly, your thumb brushing along his lips briefly, “You do,” You whispered back, your voice filled with certainty. “You always have.”

Bucky exhaled shakily, closing his eyes for a long moment, as if trying to absorb your words. And when he opened them again, he didn’t say anything. He just pulled you closer, holding onto you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.

And maybe, in a way, you were.

Bucky didn’t know how to say it, not yet, not in the way you deserved. But he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm and shaky against your skin. Maybe one day, he’d find the words.

For now, he just held you tighter.

~~~

Main Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

[sixtsposts]

Bad memories - Bucky Barnes

TW: female!reader, fight in a couple, mention of Steve's death, mention of Rebecca, sad Bucky, past trauma, from angst to fluff?

"You're not even trying!" You were pissed off right now. Like a lot, to the point where you are pacing around your shared bedroom with Bucky staring at you.

It's been about thirty minutes that Bucky and you are arguing and your starting to loose it. You just didn't understand him right now.

"I'm just asking you to come to the cinema with us! Seriously Bucky, what's the matter here?" You shout again but with an undertone of curiosity in your voice.

Bucky look up in your eyes and it hurts him to notice the worry in the frown of your eyebrows, "There's not matter, okay?" He sighs and rub his face, turning slightly away from you.

"So you just don't want to spend time with me, that's it," you reply harshly, with a hurt expression.

"That's not what it means doll, you don't understand," Bucky sighs and try to take a step closer to you. Though you take steps back refusing to lean in.

"And what should I understand Bucky? You've been gone on a mission for two months, you're back since a week and all you do is meeting Sam to prepare new missions. And now, you even refuse to spend few hours with me and our friends?" You yell at him, "You're right, I don't understand," you cross your arms in front of your chest, you're so upset you could cry.

Bucky put a hand on his hip and rub his forehead with the other, "That's not- you don't get it," he says with whar looks like a tired expression.

"Indeed," you point out with a cold demeanour.

"I'm not trying to hurt you doll!" He suddenly turns to you with a sincere expression.

"But that's what you do though!" You reply back, taking a step closer witha frown.

"I'm scared doll!" He shouts suddenly and your angry expression flatters, "I can't handle this and it makes me scared, okay?" He repeats with a quieter voice. He turns his back to you, his arms fold against his chest almost in a protective manner.

You bite your lips, the way that his voice slightly broke not going unoticed by you. You sigh by your nose, starting to feel slightly guilty for your behavior. You walk to him slowly and gently put your hand on his back, stroking it softly in a soothing manner.

"You can talk to me babe, I'm sorry. You can always talk to me," you say quietly with a soft voice tone. You want him to feel safe around you as much as you feel safe around him. But you just failed.

"I could handle loosing my mind, my arm, my self-control because Steve was here. But now he left me and... I just don't think I can handle it, so I try to keep myself occupied," he starts to explain, the plain pretty clear in his voice. You don't interruped him but you wrap you wrap your arms around him back, holding him warmly in your loving embrace.

"I didn't mean to hurt you doll, I'm just so weak since he left," you shush him and stroke his torso with your thumbs.

"I know Buck it's okay, you're not weak," you mumur with a soft voice, holding him closer and tighter. He puts his hands above yours on his torso.

"The cinema it's just... I didn't do that since 1942 doll," Bucky keep explaining, his tone no more harsh at all. Your expression softens even more as he turns to look at you. "Going to the movie theater, it was always with Steve or... Rebecca," you look up in his blue eyes and grab his hand gently in your. If Steve was a hard topic now, Bucky's little sister completly taboo most of time. You understand that he's really opening to you right now. Your thumb stroke the back of his calloused hand in a soothing manner.

"I don't wanna bring up bad memories or force you into anything baby. But maybe it's the right moment to try things again? You can't stop doing all the things you did in the forties," you tell him with a soft voice.

Bucky sighs one more time, squeezing your hand gently.

"I'm scared- I don't want to go and find out everything is different. It'll remind me of Steve and her but at the same time prooving me they're both gone for real..." he pass a hand on his face again and you can see his internal conflict mixed with this sadness in his eyes.

"It's okay baby," you say as you put your other hand on his cheek. "I know you're doing your best and you're doing great."

You try to catch his gaze and when his eyes meets yours you smile warmly. "What do you think about staying here instead and cuddling in front of a movie with Alpine?"

Bycky chuckles slightly, his eyes full of tender and love, "Sounds good to me doll," you got on your tip-toes and leave a small kiss on his lips. He squeezes your hand again and lean in for another kiss, deeper this time.

"I love you doll," he mumbles as he put his forehead against yours. Your smile widen, "I love you too Buck."

[lauriegraham01]

40s!headcannons - steve & bucky

pairings: steve rogers x reader, bucky barnes x reader

summary: headcannons of steve and bucky from the 40s.

w/c: 645

content warning: minor angst, mentions of domestic/child abuse, fluff, mention of smoking/drinking.

Steve Rogers

Steve always being shy to show affection, for fear of rejection. So whenever you initiate acts of affection, he goes red and his heart does somersaults.

He doesn't like to talk about his dad much, it still hurts to think about the abuse he and his mom faced because of him.

But he sometimes misses the way his dad was before the abuse started but he feels wrong for missing someone who caused so much pain.

Steve first learned how to draw from recreating the human anatomy because he had a curiosity for medicine, taking after his mother who was a nurse.

Steve learned how to do everything around the house- cooking, cleaning, hell he even knew how to sew. His mother had instilled the importance of knowing how to take care of yourself within him at a young age.

Coming from Irish-Catholics, he and his mother would attend mass frequently.

Steve loved midnight Christmas mass the most.

Loved reading and saving up to buy new books and comics.

Was the type of kid to hide underneath the covers with a flashlight just so that he could read late at night.

He memorized the entire subway system at one point.

His favorite places to take you on dates would be parks and record shops.

Textbook definition of a gentleman, would open every door for you, walk closest to the street, give you his jacket if your cold, and drop you off at your doorstep after a date.

After the serum, he still wasn't used to his new body so he would still accidently buy clothes that were too small.

Steve wrote to you and told you everything about what he was doing while away.

This man would lose his mind every time you sent him a photo of yourself in your letters.

Worshipped the ground you walked on and treats you nothing short of a queen.

He was afraid that his inexperience would be an issue and after reassuring him that it wasn't he fell even deeper in love with you.

Needless to say Steve loved learning new things with you ;)

Bucky Barnes

Bucky was openly affectionate and it often meant that you would get dirty look from girls who had a crush on him because they were jealous that Bucky was paying to attention to you.

Bucky is Jewish (especially considering that his character is based on another Jewish character/has Jewish influences)

He would invite Steve over for Seder dinners every year.

Bucky cannot cook to save his life, his role in the kitchen often being helping cut veggies or wash dishes.

Bucky was a naturally loud person seeing as he lived with four sisters and had an all around loud household/family.

Bucky picked up street-boxing when he was 13.

Steve hated this. Often having to be the one to patch up Bucky after a nasty fight.

Bucky could understand and even speak a little bit of Spanish, learning from friends and from girls he'd dated before.

Bucky would sneak up the fire escape to be able to knock on your window and see you late at night.

Bucky smokes, but never around you or Steve out of respect.

He is a sappy drunk. He will go on and on about how much he loves you and how beautiful you are.

He can handle his liquor.

He loved going dancing with you- especially at jazz clubs.

An absolute sucker for rhythm and blues.

He knew that he wanted to marry you, but he wanted to wait until after the war to get married.

He had the ring picked and locked away.

He kept a picture of you tucked away in his coat pocket, admiring the picture everyday while overseas.

He wrote to you often, asking about how things were back home. Your responses giving him hope that this war would end soon and he's come back home to you.

[hoppers-babygirl]

Saw your post requests tonight, could you do something Bucky Barnes X reader? With readers family being extremely nosy on Thanksgiving? You know the usual questions, for example: when/how did you meet? when will you get married/engaged? when you having kids? Are you living together?

Thankful

Author: hoppers-babygirl

Word count: 1976ish

A/N: Hope you enjoy this! Graphics by @firefly-graphics

The trip to your parent’s place was filled with laughs, kisses and a few rest stops. It was the first time Bucky was going to meet your family since you started dating and being scared was one of the many emotions you felt. Not because your family wouldn’t like him but just because you knew how overbearing your family could be during the holidays but Bucky insisted that he could handle it so that's how you found yourselves driving to upstate New York, to your parents place.

Soft lips pressed a kiss to the back of your hand which snapped you from your thoughts and you smiled over at Bucky. “It’ll be fine, Doll. I promise I can handle it.” He said.

“I know I just don’t want you to get overwhelmed or trapped around all these loud nosy people.” You chuckle softly, moving your hand to caress his cheek as he drives, which he appreciated.

“Baby.. Do you happen to forget that we work for the avengers? Have you been in a room with any of them at all?” He laughed and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Okay- that is true! But these are people you’re meeting for the first time.” You counter.

His brow quirks, “Do you forget that everyone was a stranger to me at one point including you? I think I can handle being around a roomful of strangers for a couple hours, plus they’re your family. It's important to meet them, especially since I love you so much.” He grins at you before the navigator told him the destination was close.

After a few moments the car was parked and Bucky had rounded the front to open your door. Getting out you grabbed the cupcakes you made just so you didn’t show up empty handed before walking up to the front door of your childhood home. Bucky politely knocked before his arm snaked around your waist keeping you close, today he opted to wear a long sleeve and his usual leather glove long with his leather jacket, your parents knew who he was and you understood his hesitation but you reassured him that your family would be considerate given his past.

A second passes and your mom answers the door, she greets you both with a big smile and moves out the entryway for you to step inside. Bucky takes the cupcakes from your hands so you and your parents can share a hug as well as take your jacket off to hang it up.

Shyly he shifts his weight from foot to foot until you turn your attention to him with a bright smile. “Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend Bucky that I’ve been telling you about?” You nod softly before you take the cupcakes and walk them into the kitchen leaving Bucky to say his hellos with your parents.

He looks a bit nervous but you give him a smile to help sooth him which it does, he gives your mom a quick hug and gives your dad a handshake before they go back into the kitchen.

Your mom checks on the turkey as your younger sister comes in and gives you a hug, while everyone’s attention is occupied, Bucky decides to slip off his jacket as well as his gloves. “He really is cute.” He smiled at your sister's whisper, not sure if anyone knew he had enhanced hearing so he kept his pride to himself.

Instead he walked over and greeted your little sister. “Doll here’s told me lots about you. It’s nice to finally meet you, I do hope you’re enjoying your break from college.” He said, your sister smiled up at him.

“I am, thank you. But now I’m worried about the things you’ve heard.” She laughs.

“All good things, I promise.” He chuckled, a man came down the stairs followed by a woman who held a young boy in her arms. The man looked more like you causing Bucky to assume that was your older brother.

“Hey man it’s nice to finally meet you.” Your brother gives Bucky a smile and one of those weird manly handshakes with a shoulder pat which makes you giggle softly under your breath.

“It’s nice to meet you too, all of you, really.” Bucky nodded and looked around the room.

The woman holding the small child greets you both quietly before she goes over to the fridge to grab a juice box for the little one in her arms.

Your dad moves into the living room along with your brother while your sister in law sits at the kitchen table with her son. He’s happily babbling, not caring much for everything that was happening around him besides the fact that soon enough he too would be enjoying a yummy dinner.

Your sister grabbed a cupcake and took a bite before she spoke, “So how did you and my sister meet?”

You sit down and babble quietly with your nephew while Bucky answers your sister. “We met at work actually, since she works with the CEO of Stark Industries and I work with the husband of the CEO of Stark Industries, we were bound to run into one another which we did often.” He flashed you a soft smile as you helped occupy your nephew.

The sight made his heart clench but he turned his attention to your mother who now spoke up.

“You two have been going out some time now, things must be serious huh?” Teasingly she waggled her brows at Bucky which made him chuckle.

“I’d like to say they’re pretty serious. I really do love your daughter and I do my best to make her happy.” He replied.

His answer makes you smile. “We moved in together a couple months ago to our own place near Stark tower.” You speak up. Bucky moves to sit beside you at the table and rests his arm on the back of your chair, a football game plays in the background as you hear your father and brother mumbling things to the television.

Your nephew takes note of Bucky and tries to reach out to him which makes the dark haired man chuckle softly. He coos at the little one and lets his small fingers run along his cool metal hand which makes the boy let out a soft squeak.

Your sister in law speaks up, “So Bucky do you have any nieces and nephews? You seem like a natural when it comes to kids.”

He nodded. “Mmhm I do, my little sister Rebecca had children. Although I never got to meet them because of my circumstances, I am happy to hear she had quite the life.”

The woman nodded and gently bounced the little one in her arms.

“You two ever think about having kids?” Your mom asked from across the room, her hands busy peeling potatoes.

The question made your cheeks warm up. “Mother, we just moved in together, not that long ago.”

“So? Doesn’t mean you two can’t think about your future together. I’m assuming you see a future together right?” She aims this question at Bucky who nods without missing a beat.

You can’t help the excited butterflies that fill your belly. “We haven’t even spoken about it much, once we do then we’ll let you know our plan.” You reply with a laugh, brushing your mother off.

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you know the plan.” He teases, speaking to your mom.

She nodded and finished up peeling the potatoes before she set them on the stove. Dinner was almost ready which helped you relax a bit, so far things weren’t as bad as they could’ve been but you still have nerves bubbling into your chest as everyone spoke.

Bucky could sense your nerves and he rubbed your back soothingly, eventually your sister in law took your nephew into the living room and joined your brother on the couch. The sight of the three cuddling up together to watch the football game made you indulge in a daydream with Bucky that you rarely allowed yourself.

It was of you both laughing and enjoying family dinners such as this one but instead of showing up with cupcakes you show up with a little girl of your own. A cousin your nephew could get to know once they’re both older.

You didn’t realize you were that spaced out until Bucky gave your shoulder a little shake, leaning in he whispered, “You okay baby?” Pulling back he looked at your features.

You nod and get up from your seat and you grab a bottle of water for yourself trying to distract yourself from the sweet little daydream. Taking a drink or two from the bottle you sat back down beside Bucky to which his arm curled around your shoulders once again, he gave your cheek a quick kiss which made you smile.

Your mom asked your little sister to set the dining room table which she did, meanwhile the door rang once again, you had an older sister but she had a family of her own which you assumed she’d be staying with her husbands family as they were closer but soon enough your niece came rushing in to give your mother a big hug. A toothy grin on her lips as she flung herself into your moms arms.

Your older sister and her husband came in moments later, she was sporting a small baby bump which made tears spring to your mothers eyes. Everyone chimed in and said congratulations, Bucky held you a bit closer as it grew a little louder in the home thanks to the surprise.

“Why don’t we take a step outside?” You whisper against his shoulder, looking up at him with soft eyes.

He nodded and got up to grab his coat for you. “I’ll meet you out there once you’re done?” He asked.

“Yeah baby, I’ll just be a moment or two.” With that he politely excuses himself for a breath of fresh air while you greet your sister and her family.

Just as you promised, a few moments later you meet Bucky outside on your family's porch and he drapes his jacket over your shoulders. “Are you doing okay so far?” You ask.

He nodded and wrapped his arm around your waist. “I’m okay, I just needed a moment alone with you.” His chest is to your back, his lips press a few butterfly kisses to your neck.

You hum softly in appreciation and the two of you have a few stolen kisses shared together before your little sister comes out to tell you and Bucky that dinner was ready. A faint blush crept up his neck at the interruption, giving your sister a sheepish smile. He kissed your cheek once more before holding the door open for you to head back inside.

Your family is gathered at the beautifully set dining table, your niece happily babbling about some children's show to your brother while your mom's passing around the mashed potatoes, you feel a hand rest upon your knee and smile up at Bucky as you recognize his touch. Your heart flutters at his smile, he genuinely looked happy.

Leaning in, you whisper to him, “I love you.” His blue eyes grow wide for a second but his smile stays plastered to his lips.

“I love you too, Doll. You’re what I’m most thankful for this year.” He says before he presses a kiss to your lips.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Bucky.” You reply. “Maybe next year I’ll be hosting dinner with a ring?” You tease with a soft laugh, earning a playful pinch to your side.

The rest of your evening you spend laughing, chatting and eating dinner with your family. You knew this is exactly how you wanted to spend your holidays, with your family and with the man you loved most.

[call-me-doll-face]

WARNING: Dark bucky barnes, sexual themes, violence, 18+

A/N: I wrote this on my phone so I apologize for no page break. Will be fixed when I have access to my computer ❤️

ME AND THE DEVIL:

I know you do not usually seek out men like him. In fact, someone smart would avoid the likes of him at all costs. Someone smart would find other means of getting what she wants; what she needs. Other alternatives. However most people would not call me smart. Would say I am easy, I am gullible, I am pathetic. However, I guess desperation can change your point of view, because I started thinking something on the wrong side of crazy.

I started thinking he could be my salvation.

Getting his attention was not difficult, unbelievably. Men like him want what they cannot have. Something unexpected, something exciting, lifechanging.

So, what do you give a man that has everything? Sex? That is almost laughable. He could have any women he wanted. They practically worship the ground he walks on.

Money? That thought is even worse. You can tell that he is drowning in it. Has more than any one man should.

Friendship? It is a nice thought, but he would never trust it. Never let you close enough to even try.

No... I gave him a chase. I let him see me in the seedy club that he frequents. Let his eyes skim the skimpy little black dress I wore just for him; then just when he had almost had his fill, I would take it away. Disappear into the crowd.

This little game of ours carried on for longer than I would have liked. It became a dance of sorts, our game of cat and mouse. Until I finally let him catch me.

I finally let him have me; let him control my very being. The act brings me more pleasure than I can handle, this big strong man consuming me body and soul. The power that came with submitting to him....

Slowly, I realized there was more to him than the man everyone hated and feared. There was compassion, empathy, and a heart filled to the brim with love.

That love wrapped around my heart and anchored me. Gave me a sense of safety I hadn't felt in a long, long time.

Over time, I felt bad for what I was doing to him, wanting to find a way to explain it all to him. Find a way to ask him to help me instead of trying to coerce it out of him.... I wanted him willing...

But he found me out before I got the chance.

We stand across from each other, backs pressed against walls and trading accusatory glances.

Bucky is furious, face tense and his jaw clenching. Brows are furrowed over narrowed eyes, making him look fierce, intimidating.

I can tell he wants to say something to me, wants to lash out, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just grits his teeth and snarls at me, which makes him seem even more menacing. A shiver of excitement runs through me at the strength and power of the man before me, curling around my spine and drawing me to him like a moth drawn to a flame.

Any sane person would be terrified, but not me. After all this time I know without a doubt James Buchanan Barnes would never harm me; would bet my life on it.

As I take a step towards him, I notice his back straightened, icy blue eyes throwing up a wall, guarding himself and his emotions from me. Too late, as I’d seen the pain and betrayal there. My heart cracks at it.

I had done that. I had put that look on this untouchable man's face. I’d hurt him, betrayed him, ruined him.

More than anything I want to fix it.

“Bucky... James... Please let me explain.” My voice is a soft plea, brown eyes begging as I take another step towards the man I had come to love.

This impossibly strong and stubborn man who had changed everything.

Broad shoulders slump in defeat at my tone, face downcast and eyes dull. He is closing off from me, but I will not let him. No.

Finally stepping before him, I let my hand cup his face gently. My thumb gently rubs at the corner of his mouth that had turned down slightly. Those eyes squeeze tight at my touch, face leaning into my hand desperately.

“Tell me it was real. Please tell me it was real. You weren't using me.” He begs, voice wavering with emotion and my heart breaks further. Lips trembling, I press my body closer to him, cupping his face and pressing my forehead to his.

“I love you... I love you buck; I love you.”

Lips meet mine desperately, hands gripping my back and pulling me flush to his hard body.

He is devouring me, drinking me in. His tongue licks at the seam of my lips and I instantly grant him access, whimpering when it snakes into my mouth and dances with mine.

“Say it. Please. Please say it.” The words are spoken against my mouth, hand sliding up to grip the nape of my neck firmly, demanding I give in to him. Blue eyes search mine as if trying to see right through me, trying to see into my very soul.

Was I sent to destroy him? Was I some cruel means to an end? Someone to break down his barriers, strip him of his armor and lay him out to dry? Leave him to his enemies to rip apart as they see fit?

Our breathes mingle, so close its hard to tell where one ends, and one begins. He is engulfing my very existence; I’ve never been more willing to drown.

My belly flutters with anxiousness as I will myself to give in, to trust that he will believe and understand me. Closing my eyes briefly I let a soft sigh leave my parted lips; let the tip of my tongue dart out to wet my bottom lip before gathering the courage to face him head on once again.

“I will tell you everything. Every single detail, all you have to do is ask. But right now, you must know that this, this thing between us, is one of the scariest yet realist things I have ever known. I wasn’t supposed to love you. I was never supposed to care for you the way I do now, but God do I.” his chest deflates with a shaky exhale at my words, the waft of air moving the loose strands of hair out of my face. “James- “ reaching up I cup the back of his head, caressing the soft brown hair there. “I want to be with you. I want to stay WITH you. I do not want to run from my problems anymore. I want to burn them to the ground and build a life with you.”

“But?” He mumbles, nuzzling against the side of my face.

“But…- “here we go. This will make or break whatever this is. “But my ex is a bad man.” Bucky’s body tenses at the mention of another man, pulling away to give me his full attention. “He is a bad man, and buck, he has my daughter. He has my daughter, and he wanted your money, and I could not let him hurt her.”

The more I talk the more panicked I feel. Its like word vomit, I cannot stop until I have gotten all of it out. My breathing quickens, chest starts to hurt with the stress of it as tears gather on my lash line, causing buck to become blurry.

“He told me he’d hurt her if I didn’t do exactly as he said. Oh god buck, she is only four years old.” A choked sob escapes from me, my hand reaching up to cover my mouth as a tear breaks free. Bucky just stands there, staring at me in shock as I drone on. “I know he will follow through if I disappoint him. He’s hurt the both of us more times than I can count already. His best friend is a police officer, so nobody had believed me when I’d tried to get help, it had only made things worse. I didn't have a choice.” I am full on crying now, body wracking with sobs as I hold myself, trying to keep myself together.

a variety of different emotions fleet across Bucky’s face before he finally settles on rage. It sets in his shoulders, fists clenching at his sides before shoving past me and out the door, walls slamming with the force of it shutting.

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I had thought that was that. That he was done with me. I went to the little sketchy hotel room I’d rented in case things went south, curled onto the bed I don’t like to think too much about, and sobbed. I sobbed until exhaustion took hold and drug me under.

Coming to felt even worse. My eyes had crusted shut from all the tears and my head throbbed with a migraine that almost cripples me.

It could have been hours, days for all I knew. I just didn’t care.

Just as I go to roll over in an attempt to go back to sleep the door to the room bursts open and there he is. There he is, covered in blood and practically dragging Gabe in by the back of his shirt.

“Bucky! Are you okay!” I gasp, jumping to my feet and rushing to him, terrified that some of the copious mounts of blood could be his.

Grunting he lets Gabe fall to the ground unceremoniously before engulfing me in a bone crushing hug. “I’m all right doll. Had some business I needed to take care of. I’m all right.”

I cling to him, letting the familiar scent of leather and gunpowder wash over me and calm my nerves. “I thought you were gone. That you’d left me.” My bottom lip wobbles, and he pulls back, cupping my jaw gently with his metal hand, thumb running over my lip to soothe it.

“I’m never leaving you, doll. I’m yours just as much as you are mine. But I will not have you without her.” It takes my mind a moment to process his words, but when it does my heart soars, eyes watering for a completely different reason than earlier.

“She- she’s here?”

“She is.” He quickly grabs my shoulders to prevent me from rushing past him and out the door, stops me from going to her. As if sensing the words of protest bubbling up, he gives me a stern look and I swallow them down with a frown. “First, business.” He indicates what said business is with a sharp kick to Gabe’s side, pulling a grunt from the other man.

“Y-you stupid whore. Couldn’t even do one damn thing right.” Gabe snarls with labored breath, drawing up onto his hands and knees with a pained groan. Blonde hair that is usually kept impeccable falls over his bruised and battered face in a greasy mess. Green eyes, red from busted blood vessels shoot up to glare at me.

Bucky remains quiet, yet I can feel his silent rage filling the room and choking us. I wait for the eruption, the blow up I know will come, but to my surprise he just clasps his hands together and moves to stand slightly behind me.

It dawns on me that this powerful man that everyone fears is giving me, little old nobody me, the lead. He’s letting me decide what happens to the man that tormented me and my daughter for years. Bucky is letting me take justice into my own hands.

When I turn uncertain eyes on him, he gives me the slightest dip of his chin, eyes shining with encouragement. “Burn them to the ground, then build a life.” They’re the softest words he’s ever spoken to me, and they give me all the confidence I need.

A humored laugh is heard from behind me as I straighten my spine and turn to face the pathetic excuse of a man that’s now on his knees before me. The blood in my veins sings with the satisfaction of him kneeling there. His rightful place; below me.

“You think that just because you fucked James Buchanan Barnes that suddenly you’re not the same little pathetic girl from a nowhere town in Ohio? Think again princess.” He sneers, spitting blood at my feet before turning hateful eyes back up at me. “Both you and that stupid little daughter of yours are useless. Hell, you weren’t even adequate enough to stick a dick in. what are you going to do to me, huh? Cry in my face, drown me in your tears?”

I let every word from his mouth soak in. let every hateful thing he’d done to me, made me feel, seep into every pore, and consume me. My own rage, mixed with Bucky’s, builds to an almost cataclysmic point, while all I feel is a calmness wash over me. My mind and heart go quiet as I just stare at him with empty eyes, not saying a word as he slowly starts losing his confidence, starts to squirm.

“You have absolutely no idea how much of a pleasure it is for me to see you on your knees, covered in blood and squirming like a rat caught in a trap.” My voice comes out even, smooth, and he instantly has a sneer back on his face at the words. Before he gets the chance to open his mouth and spew more bullshit, I turn on my heel to slightly face bucky. “You know, you were right about one thing, I’ll give you that... I’m most definitely not the same little girl from Ohio. What you WERE wrong about however is that it’s not because I fucked bucky, oh no, that honor goes to you.” Giving bucky a sweet smile, he watches in amusement, brow cocked as I lift the left side of his shirt and steal the lightweight combat blade he keeps hidden there.

Twirling it between my fingers I twist back and let Gabe see it, let him take a minute to sweat it as I take slow steps towards him.

“For years you made my life a living hell. You trapped me, moved me to a place where I had nothing; no one. You controlled everything. Who I socialized with, the money, hell it was you who made me get pregnant. Now that- “coming to a stop in front of him, I run the tip of my blade down his cheek, relishing in the flinch he gives at the first touch of metal against sensitive skin. “That was your first mistake.” A sharp cry tears from him as I clench my teeth and dig the edge of the blade in just under his eye, dragging it all the way down his cheek to his jaw in a bloody line.

“You fucking bitch- FUCK!” he shouts out, going to move away from me but bucky is instantly there, holding him in place with a harsh hold on his shoulders. The pure arousal in his eyes takes my breath away and I feel the excitement at pleasing him all the way down between my thighs. I never realized how exhilarating this could be. Setting my sights back on the man before me I let a crazed grin slide free.

“Do you want to know where you fucked up? You gave me someone to love more than you. You gave me someone I cared about more than myself. You tore me down to a point that I didn’t care what you did to me, but when you gave me that little girl? When you hurt, that little girl? Well, that was the beginning of the end for you.” Flipping the knife in my hand so that the hilt is up I slam down as hard as I can, feeling it slice through the bone like butter as it makes a home in his shoulder right by where Bucky’s hand rests.

Bucky seems just as surprised as Gabe, staring at the blade with wide eyed disbelief before his teeth flash in a wicked smile, laughing incredulously. Gabe screams, wiggles in agony, trying to escape the pain. With a giggle that I should be appalled by, I yank it out, blinking the warm blood splatters out of my eyes. My tongue flicks to the side of my mouth by its own accord and the tangy copper flavor fills my mouth. The sound of his pain is music to my ears, the raw pride that bucky exudes makes my clit throb.

“You’re going to pay for what you did. There will be so much more pain, this is only a small taste of what’s to come.” I can’t handle this anymore, my body shaking with so much pent-up energy that I feel as if I’ll combust. “But later.” When my brown eyes meet icy blue ones, my lips pull between my teeth, and those eyes flick to them, locking on to the movement.

Bucky, ever observant, seems to know what I need before even I do. Pulling rope from the back pocket of his tight fitted jeans he quickly ties Gabe’s wrists and ankles so that he can’t escape. Dark eyes move back up to me once he’s done, body appearing larger as he rounds Gabe, chest puffing out as he stalks me.

“What was your second mistake? So glad you asked, I’ll tell you.” placing my palm against his broad and sturdy chest, I halt bucky. His chest falls in even controlled breathes as he searches my face, trying to decipher what I want. When my eyes flick to the floor before me, right where Gabe had just been, he gives me a knowing smirk before he drops to one knee, then the other. Now, seeing him before me is a completely different type of excitement, but just as thrilling.

“You put this man in my path. A man you knew was dangerous. Could destroy you. Oh, but you never thought I'd confide in him. Tell him the truth…. Fall in love with him. No, you underestimated me.” Thick fingers hook into the waistband of my leggings, gently tugging them down my legs along with my panties. He lets out a deep groan at the wetness already visible on my thighs, inhales deeply, and takes in the smell of my arousal. Gripping under my knee, he hooks my leg over his shoulder and dives in like a starved man.

My head falls back at the first broad stripe up my center, a whimper as that skilled tongue flicks and curls around my bundle of nerves. The man is pure sin, knowing what I desire like the devil himself. His metal hand grips my hip, grounding me as he feasts on me, tongue spearing into me, drinking from me with obscene slurping noises. It doesn’t take long before I’m ready to crumble for him, the knot in my belly tightening and a warmth spreading over my entire body.

Looking to the man on the floor, seeing how red-faced and humiliated he looks, sends me ever closer to my climax, and I can't help but torment him even more. Cruelty has never been my nature, but I'm relishing in what it does to him. "He's so good, Gabe. So much better than you ever were." Bucky groans at my words, sending vibrations through my whole body. I gasp loudly, brows knitting at the feeling as my fingers bury in his soft locks. "How does it feel, watching someone so powerful worship the person you thought was nothing?"

"You stupid -"

Sliding his flesh hand between my legs, Bucky easily slips two fingers into me, instantly curling them and expertly finding that special spot inside me, and I’m a goner.

His name falls from my lips like a prayer, back arching as my orgasm crashes through me in waves. I can feel his eyes on me, watching me as he sucks my clit into his mouth and pumps his fingers faster, working to prolong my pleasure as long as he can.

When I finally come down, I push him away from me with a gentle hand on his head. Locking eyes with Gabe I let the delight show on my face. Gloating in the way bucky played my body like a fiddle. “It’ll be the last time you ever underestimate me."

Wrapping a firm hand around buckys throat i guide him backward until he’s on his back. He lets me control him and lifts his hips to help aid me in pulling his jeans down just under his ass. My mouth waters as his cock springs free, laying flushed and leaking against his belly. Usually, I would worship him. Let my tongue slide down his delicious happy trail to the base before licking all the way up his shaft to the tip. Usually. Not now.

Bucky watches with hooded eyes and teeth dug into his plump bottom lip as I climb over him. Fingers dig into the flesh of my hips as he leans up slightly to watch where we meet. I watch as those brows scrunch in concentration, and his jaw goes slack as I position myself and slowly slide down onto him. I take him all the way to the hilt in one slide, wincing at the burn of it, of him. He’s so big. It never matters how much he preps me. It’s always a stretch to fit him.

He looks at me desperately as I try to give myself time to adjust. I feel the muscles in his hips bunching, struggling not to thrust up into me, the thick muscles flinching under me. Taking pity on him, I lay my hands flat on his chest before raising myself up and dropping all the way down. The noises he makes as I start to ride him in earnest are sinful, feeling so good all his barriers are down, all his pleasure on full display.

He lets me take him apart right there in front of another man. Willingly submits to me, whines when I take him to the very edge then denies him his pleasure. “Please, please doll fuck. So fucking close, please stop teasing me. Come one baby, ride that cock, let me fill that pretty pussy up, please baby doll I’ll do anything you want.” He whines and pleads. Pulling him into a sitting position I cradle his head against my chest as I bounce, feeling my climax coming once again as his cock slides against my walls, rubbing every spot flawlessly.

Meeting Gabe eyes once again over bucks’ shoulder, I give him a triumphant smirk as I rest my chin on the top of Buckys head. “Cum for me baby. Be a good boy and fill that pussy up.” As soon as the words leave my mouth he’s cursing, shouting my name and his hips jerk erratically, shooting ropes of hot cum into me and coating my walls. The feeling of his cum in me sends me over the edge right after him, and the clenching of my walls around him coaxes another orgasm from him as well, our cries and shouts echoing around the room.

Gabe finally breaks, pathetic sobs and pleads leaving him as he presses his face into the old carpet.

Ignoring the pest in the room, We take a minute to bask in each other, pressing soft kisses to any part of skin we can reach, trading soft works to one another. Once our heart rates have calmed down, he gives me one more chaste kiss. “Ready to go see our little girl?”

[angstysebfan]

You Matter To Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary:  This is based on the song “You Matter To Me” from Waitress the Musical. It’s not a replica of what happens in the play, but the words in the song. Song lyrics are in italics. Warnings: Slight Angst, Sad Lonely Reader, Fluff

A/N: I’ve wanted to rewrite this fic for awhile. The story is the same, but I didn’t like how I did it the first time. I hope you all enjoy it even more than before. Please know that my stories were no beta’d or edited, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes or misspellings. Also please note again I am rewriting most if not all of my masterlist, so if you read my stories, be prepared cause most of them are going to be fixed if they haven’t already lol.

I can find the whole meaning of life in those sad eyes They see things you never quite say, but I hear Come out of hiding, I’m right here beside you and I’ll stay there as long as you let me

You’re in your living room of your small one bedroom apartment, slow dancing with him. He holds you close and sings softly into your ear as you release a sigh of contentment. You never in a million years thought that you could ever find the happiness you’re currently engulfed in. People assume that being the only child of the rich and famous (your dads name), your life is set and happiness is a given. You know for a fact that it's not true, as you purposely ran away from the "rich kid" life the moment you were able to.

Your parents always treated more like a burden then their child. You were practically raised by nannies because they didn't want to give up the partying lifestyle. They never once celebrated the day you were born, always going out with friends on trips or something instead. When they were home, you were never allowed to make any noise or be a normal kid because they considered that a disturbance.

As you got older, you started to resent your life. Any "friends" you made didn't really care about you at all. They wanted to be seen with the daughter of the famous Y/F/N, the richest man in the country. They knew if the paparazzi saw them with you, they would be on Page Six and be set. You never wanted to be the center of attention. It never interested you, but you also didn't want to be used. You found yourself feeling very lonely all the time, even in a crowded room.

Eventually, when you were old enough, you ran away from that life. You wanted as much separation as possible. Your parents wouldn't care anyway, so you didn't move far. You found yourself in the middle of Brooklyn working as a waitress as a small diner. It didn't pay much, but it helped you afford your tiny shoebox apartment that you loved and food. You felt like you were finally free and happy. You started going out more, and even made some real friends who liked you for your personality, rather your wealth, since you no longer had any.

Once night you were out with some friends and were sitting at a bar. Nursing your cranberry vodka, you kept thinking how much your life has improved, and how much happier you were without your parents money. You suddenly saw someone sit next to you and you looked over with a smile. You would lie if you said he wasn't the most handsome man you have ever seen. He had short brown hair, the bluest eyes imaginable, and a strong jawline partially hidden under some scruff. When he looked at you and smiled, your heart immediately fluttered.

Because you matter to me Simple and plain and not much to ask from somebody You matter to me, I promise you do, you matter too I promise you do, you’ll see You matter to me

You found yourself falling into easy conversation with the handsome man, whose name was Bucky. You learned he was a mechanic who lived in the same neighborhood as you, and that he grew up in Brooklyn to middle class parents and knew the value of hard work. It was refreshing to say the least. Listening to how his parents supported him and his siblings with their aspirations and dreams, no matter what they were. You were jealous, because your parents couldn't give a damn about you. Hell they never even tried to find you when you left. Bucky tried to ask about your life, but you weren't ready to hash that out, so you just quickly changed the subject. He smiled and decided to go with it.

You and Bucky start to hangout more often and you find yourself falling... hard. He would take you on little dates around Brooklyn, and you both would stay out late just talking about things. You wanted to tell him about your past, but you were scared it would scare him away. When he wanted to treat you to a fancy restaurant in Manhattan that you know your parents frequent, you immediately decline. You felt it was time to finally tell him the truth about yourself. Bucky sat with you, holding your hand as you told him all about your upbringing and your thoughts and feelings about your parents. You were in awe when you were done he pulled you to him and kissed you.

"I can't imagine how hard that much have been for you," he said with no sarcasm.

You then and there that he actually cared about you and your feelings. He didn't think you were some spoiled brat that didn't get enough attention. He knew money was not important to you, and that all you've ever longed for was to be loved. He wanted to be the one to show you the love you've always deserved, and hopefully you can let him in. And maybe love him just as much in return.

It’s addictive the minute you let yourself think The things that I say, just might matter to someone, All of this time I’ve been keeping my mind on the running away For the first time I think I’d consider the stay.

At first you were worried when Bucky asked you to move in with him. Yes, you had been dating for over a year, and yes you cared for him with ever fiber of your being, but you still had hesitations when he said it back. You kept telling yourself he really loved you and to let him in, but it was harder to do than you realized. Bucky was always patient and understanding. He allowed you to take your time and really think about it with no pressure. But you wanted to let him in so bad. He's been so good to you, so you finally agree to move in.

It took some time for you to get used to Bucky constantly wanting to take care of you. You've always taken care of yourself, so to have him wanting to do that was surprising. He constantly tells you how much you mean to him, but you still find it hard to believe sometimes. He buys you flowers every week, takes you on small romantic trips, and cooks you dinners. Your walls slowly start crumbling little by little as you let him in, because you know you are as much in love with him, as he seems to be with you. Every day when you come home from work, he asks about your day, and generally cares. He pays attention to every word you say, he laughs at jokes you make, gets irritated when hearing about stupid customers, or holds you as you cry after a hard frustrating day. He's there every time you need him, and even when you don’t.

You are there for him just as much, knowing that a true relationship means you both have to give the same amount. As time goes on, your walls around your heart are gone, and you've completely given your heart to Bucky. He and his family have welcomed you with open arms, and you never felt as loved and accepted as you do with him. When he dropped to one knee to ask you to be his wife, you didn't hesitate for a second before saying yes, because there was no other answer.

Because you matter to me Simple and plain and not much to ask from somebody You matter to me, I promise you do, you matter too I promise you do, you’ll see You matter to me

You look up at your fiancee and smile before giving him a soft kiss. You then look at the small diamond on your finger with so much happiness. Bucky apologized it wasn't bigger, but you told him, and you meant it, that you wouldn't want anything more than what he has given you. Your life is perfect as long as you have him, and are in his arms. Bucky was everything you didn’t know you needed in your life.

For the first time, you feel loved and cherished. You feel like you finally matter to someone. Not just someone, Bucky Barnes, the man you love and are going to spend the rest of your life with. 

--

Bucky is so fucking amazing in this story. I love him so much! Feedback is appreciated! Also if you wish to be apart of my new taglist, please let me know.

Permanent Taglist: @rebekahdawkins @marajade1974 @missvelvetsstuff @phillygirl77 @pattiemac1 @winterslove1917 @vampire7595

[kilikina34512]

Perfect

Let me preface this story by saying that I'm well aware that Ed Sheeran's song Perfect was not written or sung anywhere near the 40s. I'm taking creative liberties here. Divider courtesy of @firefly-graphics. Make sure to check them out!

Pairing: Winter Soldier Bucky x f!reader

Summary: After crashing into the ice together, you and Steve worked together as best friends and Avengers in the 21st century. The both of you, though, had left a piece of you behind in the past: his best friend and the love of your life. When you're stuck facing off against HYDRA's weapon, the Winter Solider, you discover the past may not have stayed there.

Warnings: bit of angst with HEA, violence (non-descript), fluff at the end

Word Count: 1,296

"Doll!"

The yell came from a concerned Steve, who was currently trying to make his way to you but was being held up by fighting three HYDRA soldiers at once. Yet, despite the fight happening around him, in the back of your mind, you couldn't be surprised that he still had an eye on you.

He'd made a promise to his best friend to watch over you after all.

Which he was no doubt kicking himself for not upholding as you were currently pinned underneath one of the worse HYDRA soldiers: the Winter Soldier. Both hands wrapped around your throat, you felt your air beginning to become restricted, causing a moment for your brain to flash back to an alley beside a bar in Germany about 70 years ago with a pair of blue eyes and a raspy voice in your ear whispering that he'd make sure you couldn't alert the fellow soldiers inside how good you could take him.

You were quickly pulled out of the memory, ignoring the pulsing pain in your heart, as you realized you couldn't breathe at all anymore. Despite your body reflexively trying to suck in as much oxygen as it couldn't get, you still caught the soldier off guard as you slammed your fist into the side of his head, knocking him off of you.

Rolling to the side and rising to your feet fast as you regained your breath, you felt the large, reassuring hand against your upper back. "You alright," Steve asked, concern in his voice as neither of you took your eyes off of the enemy in front of you. You confirmed you were as you watched the Winter Soldier rise to his feet, his back to you and the mask he'd been wearing at his feet where you'd caused it to come off with your hit.

Sliding a foot behind you, settling quickly into your fighting stance, ready for him to come for either of you again, you couldn't help but stare at the back of his head. Another memory flashed before your eyes, as they seemed to be doing ever since HYDRA's weapon had landed in front of the sedan you'd been traveling in. That shoulder-length hair, the same brunette color that you grabbed countless times whenever it was between your thighs.

You shook your head, dislodging the memory. You knew after this fight, you'd have a good cry session after you pounded your way through Steve's stack of punching bags. You couldn't escape reminders of your fiancé, something you'd thought you'd gotten good at handling, but then you weren't typically facing constant flashbacks like you were currently. You could usually handle a flashback here and there, now that time and therapy had allowed you to escape experiencing them daily, but nothing ever took away the pain or hollow hole in your chest that his death had left. Despite that, you'd reached a point of handling just about anything.

Nothing could've prepared you for the next few moments.

You lost all composure as the Winter Soldier turned to face you and Steve. You weren't sure if your heart stopped altogether or began beating faster than it ever has before. Your surroundings faded as all you could suddenly hear was the roaring in your ears of your own blood. Your lungs seized as if you were being deprived of oxygen all over again and you were sure your eyes were wrong.

Your eyes had to be wrong.

He was dead.

Steve stepped forward, and if you'd been able to tear your eyes away, you would've seen a level of shock on his face that mirrored your own as he quietly said, "Bucky?"

Oh, lord above. It was him. He was alive. Your eyes weren't wrong.

It was your Bucky. Your soulmate. Your fiancé.

Unexplainable joy filled your body before it was almost completely drained with the words that left his mouth.

"Who the hell is Bucky?"

The Winter Soldier, who apparently was Bucky, launched his attack, but you couldn't move. It wasn't until the sound of his metal fist, oh lord above he had a metal prosthetic and you were going to have to process the millions of scenarios that could've caused that to happen later, collided with Steve's vibranium shield that you snapped out of the shocked daze you'd been stuck in seeing the love of your life standing in front of you, looking as young and Steve and you appeared.

You were prepared this time when he came for you and you successfully blocked him. The three of you continued to be locked in combat as Bucky stayed on the offense, neither you nor Steve being able to bring yourselves to harm him. Steve stayed focused on trying to keep the both of you from getting hurt, especially once Bucky pulled out a knife, but you couldn't stop trying to get him to snap out of whatever trance had him in its grip.

No amount of pleas, begging, or reminders of his past seemed to be getting through to him. "Bucky, please, I know you're in there," you cried as you jumped between the once best friends after Bucky kicked into the side of a truck. "I know you are, come back to me."  As Bucky's gaze shifted back to you, you continued, "I lost you once, I will not give you up again."

That was the first falter you saw in his behavior. 

For a second, he froze.  A look of confusion crossed his face and you were suddenly struck with an idea. 

You put a hand up, signaling to Steve to wait, and you started to sing.  "'Cause we were still kids when we fell in love, not knowing what it was.  I will not give you up, this time."

In your peripheral vision, you saw Sam, who'd been fighting as well, land beside Steve.  "What is she doing," he asked skeptically.  His displeasure was obvious since Bucky was slowly approaching you, but Steve wasn't intervening and you were singing of all things. 

Steve, catching on, said, "Just wait and see, I think she's getting through."

"But darling, just kiss me slow," you continued, "your heart is all I own, and in your eyes you're holding mine."

Bucky took his final step, standing in front of you, watching you sing with rapt attention.  His eyes flickered as if recognition was dawning.  Music seemed to be helping him regain control. 

"Baby, I'm," you began the chorus alone, but as you continued, Bucky joined in, "dancing in the dark."  Floored that he was singing back, his raspy voice low as it always was when you sang together, you were stunned silent as he continued, eyes locked on yours. 

"With you between my arms.  Barefoot on the grass while listening to our favorite song." You couldn't resist reaching for him anymore.  Slowly, you raised your hand until it rested against his cheek.  He didn't move, but his eyes shuttered closed. 

"When you said you looked a mess," you rejoined, singing together just like you had decades ago before the war, "I whispered underneath my breath but you heard it.  Darling, you look perfect tonight."

His eyes slowly opened and you were met with love and affection.  "My Doll," he breathed, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you against him and clinging to you as if you'd disappear if he did.  You couldn't control the sob of both loss and joy as you truly began to believe you had the love of your life again. 

As you stood amongst the distraction around you, with Steve and Sam watching not far, you didn't know what the future was going to hold, what happened to your Bucky in the past, but at that moment in the present, everything was okay.  And you planned to do everything to make sure this second chance at a happy future wasn't lost again.

[spankysparkles]

Chapter one of Holidays with Parents-- OUT NOW! Nico, Will, Frank, and Hazel are invited to the Underworld for Thanksgiving. AND Nico meets Will’s grandparents and stays with them over Christmas.

Read it from me on wattpad here: https://www.wattpad.com/1490346422-holidays-with-parents-a-solangelo-story-chapter-1

Read it from my co-author emonemo on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60250846/chapters/153751237

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Cold Rain

Swamped with school work and pain, sorry for the lack of updates.

Summary: It's raining outside so you and Bucky snuggle in bed.

You really don't like the rain.

It causes the floor to feel like ice, your skin prickling from the chill that sets into your house, and not to mention the howling winds out there make the night seem alive. Your hair stands on end, trying its best to protect you from the cold but it's not enough. You suppose it's partly due to your inability to tolerate the cold for some reason, a mystery you have yet to solve, but that has led to some funny incidents like the time you wore a hoodie out in the hot humid sun because you'd forgotten to take it off, causing Bucky to fret about heatstroke.

"Doll?" Said person appears in the doorway, holding two cups of steaming hot chocolate, the sweet scent wafting through the room. "Would you like one?"

"If I said no? What are you going to do with that other cup?" You peek out from beneath the pile of blankets.

"Drink it, obviously." He smiles, walking over to you and sits on the bed. "I suppose I get to drink both?"

You pout at him, reaching out with a hand and he chuckles, setting both cups on the bedside table. He gently tugs the blanket downwards and props your pillow up, causing you to slide off said pillow and pout further.

"I'm not risking you spilling any hot chocolate on the sheets, doll. Sit up or you're not getting any." He chides you, flicking your forehead with a look of amusement on his face. You huff, annoyed, but sit up anyways, clutching the blanket tightly. Bucky tucks himself in too before retrieving the cups, handing one to you, his hand lingering on yours.

"Wait. Let me sit on the other side." Bucky shifts, taking care to purposely hit you in the leg as he crosses over. You hit him back in the leg once he's settled on your left and he smirks, pressing his cold toes on your bare skin.

"Buck!" You shriek, causing him to burst out laughing. His retribution comes swiftly when you press your own cold toes against his bare skin, causing him to yelp in surprise. You grin, revenge gotten and begin to drink your hot chocolate before it gets cold. Bucky, the ever drama queen, scowls and sinks beneath the blanket, taking care to set his cup of hot chocolate down on the table before doing so.

He presses against you, resting his head on your stomach and you chuckle, knowing exactly what he wants you to do.

"You can always just ask, you know?" You run your fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp.

"But then we wouldn't have the telepathic connection couples have." He pouts, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes you've learnt to become immune to.

"I'm pretty sure we'd have the telepathic connection even if you asked," you snort, rolling your eyes.

"It wouldn't be the same," he huffs, rolling over to bury his face into your shirt. You're warm, and he likes the smell of your detergent.

"I think otherwise." You continue stroking his hair, smiling softly when you know he can't see it. He hums in response, curling up against you. It's days like these where you fully appreciate the fact that Bucky is just like a personal heater, the amount of body heat he emits has never bothered you, even on a hot day, but sometimes it can get a little too much, not that you've ever told him that. You like it when he cuddles with you, his vulnerable side on full display only for you. It makes your heart flutter, knowing that he trusts you with everything and you don't want him to stop.

Having finished your hot chocolate, you slide downwards, finally allowed to lie down on your bed. He grunts, feeling you shift underneath him and moves into a more comfortable position, taking care not to let his metal arm touch you. He knows how vulnerable you are to the cold, and likes being able to keep you warm. His heart soars whenever you tell him how much he's done for you, albeit in a drunk state but he'll take whatever praise he can when you rarely dish them out.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer to the other source of warmth in the room and press a kiss to the top of his head, making him smile. You drive away all forms of chill, enveloping him in a cocoon of warmth, forming a protective barrier that keeps the memories of Hydra out of his head, even if it's just for that short while.

"You're so warm," he murmurs, closing his eyes. "Everyone else is so cold."

You blink, then your eyebrows furrow with concern. "Buck? Is it that group of agents again? Do I need to beat them up or would throwing them out of the twentieth storey be better?"

"Doubt you could throw them any further than an inch, doll." His lips quirk up, one ice blue eye cracking open.

"I'll find a way to throw them out of the window," you growl.

"Fury will be pissed at you."

"Let him. Nothing's going to stand in my way of beating up people who talk behind my sugar plum's back.," you growl.

"Your sugar plum," he chuckles. "Never dropping that pet name, are you?"

"James, I'm serious. Do I need to do something about that group of agents?" You give his cheek a poke, ignoring his attempt to change the subject. "Because I really will throw them out of the twentieth storey window if I have to."

"Please don't do something that drastic. You already got into so much trouble when you beat them up." He pushes himself up so that he can press a kiss to your cheek. "I don't want you to get into more trouble because of me."

"You know that I'll do anything for you."

"I know, doll, and I'm grateful for that. But I'd still rather you not get into trouble if you don't have to." He nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "I don't like seeing you in trouble."

"Then next time I'll just not get caught."

"Doll!" He huffs, exasperated and amused. He pulls back, ice blue eyes clouding with sorrow. "I mean it. You shouldn't go too far for me, I'm not worth that much."

Your heart breaks at the sad smile he gives you and suddenly there's an urge to punt everyone who's ever hurt him out of the twentieth storey window, even if they're nothing but corpses now. You'll punt their corpses, bones, whatever is left of them.

"Yeah, that's because you're worth more than that. You're worth more than I can ever give you but that won't stop me from trying." You wonder if you can get your hands on his former handlers and beat them until their skulls cave in, get your hands on the scientists who experimented on him and shove their syringes up their asses, get your hands on the higher ups and watch as they choke to death on paper.

His bottom lip trembles, gaze dropping to stare at the spot of bed between the two of you and you catch a glimpse of tears rolling down his cheeks. You reach out hesitantly, wondering if it's alright for you to hold him when he leans in, pressing against you and sobs, his tears staining your shirt. You take that as your cue to wrap your arms around him, holding him tightly as he cries, your own heart aching with each wail that spill from his lips.

He clutches at you, desperately burrowing into your warmth as you run your fingers through his hair, giving him all the time he needs to let everything out.

"I've got you," you murmur. "I've got you."

He doesn't let go, not even after his cries have dwindled to the occasional sob. He continues to soak in your embrace, trying his hardest not to let you see his tear-stained face and puffy eyes but he can't help but look up at you, desperate to know if there's a look of disgust on your face you're disguising with your actions, if you want no more weakness out of him.

All he sees is the infinite, boundless and unconditional love you have for him.

He presses his face back into your chest, swallowing the lump in his throat and squeezes his eyes shut. He's safe, free from the tendrils of Hydra, free from the freezing snow that chilled him to the bone, free from the cryostasis whose icy touch still haunts him to this day. Even if the nightmares try to convince him otherwise, he knows that when he wakes up, if you're lying there next to him, the cold will never touch him.

The love you have for him wreathes him in a warmth like no other. It's not the same kind of warmth that fire or heaters provide, it feels different in a way he can't quite describe. It's both gentle and ferocious, it curls around him protectively like a shield but is a sword that cuts through all who try to hurt him. You're his special personal heater, providing a different kind of warmth from the one he provides.

You don't stop your ministrations, the rhythmic pattern lulling what remains of his defenses to sleep. You're the only one who can lay him bare like this, the only one he willingly shows his scars to because you're the only one he trusts to this extent.

The rain patters on outside, the wind whistling as it ushers the cold into your room and you press closer against Bucky, tugging the blanket around the both of you tightly. Bucky shifts, letting out a breath and presses a kiss to your collarbone.

"You're so warm." The words slip out before he can stop them and he blushes, the tips of his ears turning red.

"You're warm too," you chuckle, playing with his soft brown locks. "My warm safe haven."

Safe? Haven? Him?

"I'm not a safe haven," he mumbles, face still pressed against your shoulder.

"Says my devoted protector." You flick him in the head. "I distinctly recall a certain someone chiding me over and over again that the only reason I'm still alive is because of you?"

"I'm also the reason you're being targeted," he mumbles sadly. "Being with me makes you a target too, and I don't want to see you hurt."

"Well, good thing I have you as my knight in shining armour then." You smile softly, slipping a hand into his metal hand. "There's no one else I'd rather have."

Bucky's eyes widen but his metal hand gently curls around your flesh hand, fingers intertwined with yours. He looks up at you, searching for permission to close the distance and you give him a small nod. His eyes light up as he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. He kisses you like there's no tomorrow, like you're about to disappear at any moment, and his love crashes into you — wild, fierce, endless.

Maybe the rain isn't so bad after all.

[averysmolbear]

Keep Marching On

CW: this one has some angst to it. there's some mentions of violent nightmares, death, ptsd, and some violence towards some inanimate objects. Bucky's little sister is mentioned as well as a few made up family members for Bucky. (If I'm missing anything else, I'm so sorry and I will add to this if I remember anything else that could be triggering in this!)

A/N: this is set probably just before the Falcon & the Winter Soldier series, give or take. If there's any spelling mistakes or anything of the sort, that's all on me and I'll try to give this a once over down the line to maybe edit it and fix stuff like that.

Waking up, gasping, with his body covered in a cold sweat seemed to be the new normal for James Buchanan Barnes. Maybe the brainwashing of HYDRA had been wiped out - although that theory had yet to be fully tested, in his opinion - but the nightmares would never leave him. It was his penance for the deeds he had done as an assassin and it was a price that he seemed to have to pay nightly.

His best friend, Steve Rogers, loved to remind Bucky that he hadn’t been himself at the time but that didn’t seem to matter to the former assassin. It didn’t change the guilt that clung to Bucky like a second skin. The nightmares came no matter how much Steve tried to tell his friend that he wasn’t the villain. Some of those nightmares were worse than others but they had become oddly comforting in their own way. They were, after all, the one consistent thing he felt he had anymore.

Bolting up in bed, Bucky gasped as he tried to catch his breath. His head was swimming with so many visions but they seemed to start to fade a bit as he opened his eyes. His heart hammered in his chest as his hands - one made of flesh and one made of vibranium - clutched tightly to the threadbear blanket that his legs had become tangled in.

Outside of his apartment, thunder rolled, although Bucky had missed the lightning flash that had come before. His room was dark save for the faint pink light of the neon sign on the roof of the building next door to the one where he was staying. The sound of rain on the window muted the sounds of the city outside but if he strained his ears, he could still hear cars on the streets below as people went about their night.

New York City - the city that never sleeps, Bucky thought as his breathing evened out. How appropriate.

This was home or it had been once, a lifetime ago. Now it all felt a bit foreign to him. Nothing really looked like it had when he had been growing up and yet there were things about the city that seemed like they had never changed. The feeling of disorientation still stuck with Bucky more than he would have liked. It didn’t help that these days he didn’t see Steve, the only person in this world who could understand some of what he was going through. It left Bucky alone in the world while he tried desperately to get his head right.

Bucky had been grateful for his time in Wakanda, of course. They had worked hard there to untangle the mess left in his brain and it appeared to work for the most part. He had even found peace there for a time, content to live a life away from all of the things he had known. He had been an outsider but it had been something of a fresh start for Bucky. 

But all good things tended to come to an end.

War found him again and ever the soldier, he had willingly fought when Steve had come for him in Wakanda. The price, though, had been high. Bucky and others had disappeared for five years, lost in ‘the snap’ or whatever people had chosen to call it. Coming back had been easy enough for Bucky. It wasn’t that different from being woken up from cryo sleep again after all. Then Steve had made a bone-headed decision - something Bucky had fully expected, of course - and now he was lucky if he caught up with the old man once a month.

The return hadn’t been anything Bucky hadn’t experienced before though. He was used to losing chunks of time, used to the world moving forward while he was stuck behind. None of this was unusual for him, which just made the nightmares worse. It had been a reminder, something that woke up parts of Bucky’s brain that he had hoped to compartmentalize. The memories weren’t horrible all of the time but it didn’t make the nightmares every night any better.

A flash of lightning bathed the room in a bright light as Bucky let go of the blanket he had been holding in a death grip. Slowly he was coming back to reality, shaking as much of the pain that tonight’s dream had dredged up in his scrambled brain. His heartbeat had slowed, his breaths had evened out. He kicked his legs free from the mess of the blanket and sheet he had become tangled up in before shifting to sit on the edge of the bed.

It creaked with every move but Bucky hardly noticed the sound anymore. One glance at the digital clock to his right let him know that it was 3:05 AM. He didn’t bother with the lights as he moved toward the chair in the living room area of his studio apartment. It was a small space and in four long strides he had crossed the room. A heather gray t-shirt had been haphazardly tossed over the back of the chair and he grabbed it now.

Bucky was pulling it on as he shuffled toward the bathroom. His bare feet made nearly no noise as he walked. He moved through the apartment with a level of stealth that he had previously reserved for his missions. Now it was merely a holdover from that time, a hard habit for the former assassin to break.

The bathroom door was already open wide and Bucky reached in to flip on the light, blinking a couple of times as his eyes adjusted to the light. In the silence, he used the bathroom and moved to the sink to wash his hands. His hair, recently shorn short again, stuck up in several different directions. He eyed the reflection that stared back at him and he realized that he barely recognized the face he saw.

With a sigh, he splashed some of the warm water on his face. Sleep wasn’t likely to come to him so he knew that he might as well try washing away some of the sweat and the sleep. With another scoop of the water, Bucky was wetting down his hair, letting the water drip down the back of his neck. He quickly raked his fingers through his hair, trying to tame it a bit, although it didn’t do much good.

He sighed again, still staring at his reflection. There were dark circles under his eyes, evidence of his lack of sleep lately. The man who looked back at him from the mirror looked tired in every sense of the word; he looked broken and like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Flashes of memories soon filled his mind and he looked down, gripping the sink tightly. He closed his eyes, trying to will away the memory of another victim.

I’ll never be free.

As he heard the porcelain sink creak under his grip, Bucky quickly let it go. He didn’t want to have to fix it again. After the third time he had gone to the hardware store for a replacement sink, he vowed to not break another. The only problem was that this one - the fifth replacement - was clearly cracking. At least fixing it would give him something to do.

Bucky had already painted his small studio apartment twice. He had replaced the kitchen cabinets and then he had repainted them as well. He had made a point to buy furniture that he would have to put together himself (if only because he didn’t have the space to build any furniture himself) and he even helped his neighbors with a leaky kitchen sink and later with replacing their toilet.

As long as he kept busy, he kept the demons at bay so Bucky found ways to keep himself busy as often as possible.

He often felt like whatever had been done to unscramble his brain, had opened the floodgates instead. While he was grateful that he had been deprogrammed, it didn’t change the fact that he was remembering things that he didn’t always want to remember. Some days the flow of memories was easier to deal with than on other days though. He didn’t mind so much when it was childhood memories but that was rarely the case, especially when he slept.

Bucky couldn’t busy his mind with trivial things when he slept and his subconscious used that against him time and time again. Sometimes the nightmares were clear memories, reminding him of the monster that he had been. He might see a mission from start to finish, realizing by the morning that he had viewed it all with such a detached coldness. While that had been necessary for his survival, it wasn’t who Bucky wanted to be anymore.  

It was when his mind let the memories bleed together that Bucky had the hardest time. There were times when his childhood friends made appearances in his nightmares, his brain morphing what should be a happier time into some kind of personal hell for him to deal with come morning.

Tonight it had been that kind of a dream, half rooted in his life before he was made into a killing machine for HYDRA. It didn’t help that he was half-sure he recognized the person he had been sent to kill in his nightmare. There had been a moment when he had been so sure that he knew the person who he was choking the life out of but he just squeezed tighter, waking up a moment before the life faded from the person’s eyes.

Now that he was awake, Bucky couldn’t say what the victim had looked like nor did he seem sure why he recognized them. It could have been anyone from his life before whose face had bled into the hellscape that was his time with HYDRA. The more he tried to make sense of it, the less any of it made any sense at all.

For some reason this nightmare had done more to rattle him than any he had had in awhile. Most faded from his thoughts by the time his feet hit the floor. This one was lingering in its own way. If he tried hard enough, Bucky thought he might even be able to remember the face of his nightmare victim.

Something told him that it wasn’t a road that he would want to travel down though.

He shuffled to the kitchen, knowing that sleep wasn’t going to be an option, and he started a pot of coffee. He yawned as he added the water to the machine. Physically Bucky was awake or as awake as a person could be after only a few hours of sleep. Mentally he was exhausted.

That was a feeling he was growing accustomed to since it seemed to be one of the few things that he felt with any consistency these days.

He began to tidy up - if only to keep his hands and his mind busy - as the aroma of freshly brewing coffee filled his tiny apartment. He picked a notebook given to him by Steve and stared at it a moment. The pages inside were blank, waiting for Bucky to fill them. Steve told him to start jotting down his dreams and his memories but Bucky still didn’t know what good that would do. There were some things that he just didn’t think were worth holding on to where those things were concerned after all.

Bucky set it aside, shaking his head at himself. It couldn’t hurt. Stop being so stubborn.

He knew that every excuse he had to not do this could easily be put aside. Bucky knew the notebook and the words inside of it would be just for him. He had done it before when he was first trying to come to grips with his new reality. He kept those notebooks in a box in the closet, only bringing them out on very rare occasions. He debated pulling them out but Bucky didn’t know if he wanted to relive any of that right now. Tonight had been so odd that he wasn’t sure a trip down memory lane would be a good idea. Still even as he moved back to the kitchen, his mind wandered to the notebooks. 

He filled a mug and sat at the table, glancing down to see the empty notebook sitting there like it was waiting for him. Bucky would have laughed if he had been in a better mind set. He took a tentative sip from the plain white mug. He burned the tip of his tongue on the hot liquid but hardly seemed to notice. 

Bucky reached for a pen and opened the notebook to the first page. The blank, clean sheet of paper felt somehow intimidating to the former soldier. He took a deep breath, pen in hand, and decided to go for it. It couldn’t hurt to get what was floating around in his head down onto the pages of the notebook after all.

As soon as he started writing, he was surprised by how easily the words came to him. The face that tonight’s dream had been so oddly vivid which might have helped. He was surprised when he looked back at everything he had been able to write down. It had been jotted down so hastily that he didn’t remember writing most of it but as he reread it now, it felt like someone had ripped his heart out of his chest.

“Rebecca,” he softly said.

The name fell out of his mouth before he realized he had spoken it aloud. He hadn’t thought of any of his siblings in so long but he remembered with complete certainty that Rebecca had been his favorite. Just two years younger than him, she had idolized Bucky and she had been so broken-hearted when he told her that he was joining the Army. She had taken it harder than their mother, crying the day he had to deploy. It had broken his heart to see her that way and Bucky’s eyes teared up even thinking of it now.

It had been her face that he had been looking at in his nightmare. It had been Rebecca’s slender throat that his hand had been wrapped around. It had been her life that he had ended with such coldness. He hadn’t thought twice about the pleading look his sister had given him as he tightened his grip more and more until she took her last breath.

His chest felt tight and his breathing became sharper. It hadn’t been true but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Bucky closed his eyes as he pushed the nightmare from his vision. He tried to pluck out the gentler memories of his sister, working his way back from the last moment he recalled seeing her. He flitted from memory to memory, his pulse slowing as he did so.

The last image Bucky focused on was of Rebecca at sixteen. He had been bouncing around in the mess that was his brain before but this memory came to him clearly. It was a true and happy memory that he didn’t mind lingering on as he tried to settle his racing thoughts. Rebecca had been all done up for her first date. Bucky had done his damnedest to intimidate the boy taking her out and he could recall her voice in perfect clarity telling him to lay off the guy, something that had made both Steeve and Bucky laugh at the time.

With Steve as such a fixture in the Barnes household, it was a wonder to Bucky that Rebecca and Steve had never gone on a single date. Of course he guessed that the two had only seen each other as siblings. Still Bucky knew that the two of them together would have made sense in another lifetime. It wasn’t like he could ask either of them now. He wasn’t even sure where to find his sister and that was only if she was still alive.

Bucky closed the notebook, sliding it away. He worried that the words on the page might trigger another panic attack if he kept staring at them. He reached for his coffee, his hand steadier than Bucky had thought it might be given the way he felt. The mug was still warm to the touch and the coffee inside of it was of a drinkable temperature now. He took a long drink as he tried to decide what to do with his day, settling on fixing the bathroom sink and maybe trying to find out what happened to his sister.

*** *** *** ***

Bucky had been surprised how asking the right people could get him quick answers. Less than 36 hours after inquiring about his family, Sam Wilson had shown up at Bucky’s apartment with several manilla folders filled with miscellaneous pieces of paperwork. Sam had offered to help but Bucky had made it clear that this was something he had to do himself. To his surprise, Sam had only nodded and told Bucky to call him if he needed anything.

Once he was alone he went through each paper meticulously, piecing together what had happened to his family after he had ‘died’. This had been a rabbit hole that he hadn’t wanted to go down but after the nightmare, Bucky knew that he had to know. It had been no surprise to him that most of his family had died in the years since he had left Brooklyn. Not that it made any of it hurt any less. He had been pleased to see that Rebecca had become a nurse and that she had married someone who had been in the Army.

“Rebecca Sheppard,” Bucky said, almost as if to test out the name his little sister had taken. Somehow it felt right when he said it aloud. He was proud to see that Rebecca had done something positive with her life after he was gone although he wished he could have told her that himself.

She and her husband had had three children. Two sons and a daughter. The daughter still lived in Brooklyn and had married, having two kids of her own, James and Rebecca. Rebecca’s husband had died at the age of 55 in a car accident. She had died at the age of 82 and she was buried in Cypress Hill Cemetery.

He knew that the least that he could do was go to visit her grave. He had been actively avoiding visiting the gravesites of the family that had long since died, leaving Bucky alone in the world. Connections were rare for him although some of that came from not wanting to get anyone mixed up in the mess that was his everything. His life was certainly not something that could easily be explained and his mind was still a bit of a mess on its own. Knowing where Rebecca was buried seemed to push Bucky into acting however. He hadn’t felt the need to visit the graves of his parents nearly as much as he did when thinking of the kid sister that he had left behind.

Thumbing through everything again, Bucky let out a soft sigh. He pulled out the photographs that he had been avoiding looking through. His heart ached as he saw the photos of his little sister and of the family that she had ultimately built in his absence. He could see how happy she was in the snapshots, moments in time when Rebecca had been able to build a future for herself.

She had only gotten prettier as she had gotten older and Bucky felt a stinging in his eyes as he looked at the photo of her holding one of her babies. He had missed so much more than he had even imagined. He had believed for a time that not knowing about any of this would somehow make starting over easier but Bucky knew that seeing what he had missed out on hurt but it also helped. At least he knew that everyone he had left behind - the most important people in his life - had been able to pick up the pieces after he had ‘died’. It didn’t dull the ache he felt when he realized he could have been there to watch Rebecca blossom and to see her children but knowing that she had been able to do those things made him feel at least a bit better.

There was one picture that Bucky lingered on. He looked over it, brows furrowed as he tried to place what it was he felt in that moment. It was Rebecca’s granddaughter who had also been named Rebecca by her parents as an apparent homage to his little sister. She looked so much like his sister although her eyes were a different color -- more green than blue -- but he felt a pain in his chest as he looked at the photo. He set it aside, reaching for his phone. He took a deep breath, letting out a soft sigh. Bucky knew if he didn’t do this, then he might not ever get the courage up to do it. He found the phone number among all of the papers he had been sorting through earlier. His brows were furrowed again as he dialed the number. He lifted the phone to his ear, barely able to hear the ringing over the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

He heard the click of someone picking up on the other end and a confused female voice saying hello. Bucky froze for the moment; even the sound of her voice was so much like his sister’s. He swallowed hard before clearing his throat, rasping out a hello. It took a moment for the person on the other end to respond, asking who it was and what they wanted. Bucky realized that the person sounded panicked and he took a deep breath before he drove into explaining everything. He spoke in a rushed tone, trying to get everything out before the person could hang up.

To Bucky’s surprise, Rebecca believed him. She even agreed to meet up with him later in the week. She would be in the area, running some errands, and promised that she could make a little time to meet him for coffee. Relieved, Bucky gave Rebecca a place, letting her set the time that they would meet. He hung up and he felt like a weight was lifted off of him.

This wasn’t the same thing as having his family back but it was a piece of that. It was a connection to his past that he hadn't had before and it was something that Bucky knew that he sorely needed.

[needmorereading]

Oh, the pining! 💖 Love it! 👏

Ficlet Friday?

A slightly buzzed Bucky just being the cutest or in love or both. Definitely a fluff-ficlet. Your choice on which Bucky 😉

I tried to make it fluffy, nonnie, but it does have a touch of angst. Sorry!

Pretty Girl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: Over 700

Warnings: Tipsy Bucky, encouraging friends, slight angst

You were reading a book in the lounge when laughter rang out through the hall, a smile touching your lips. The guys decided to do a “boys' night out” and it sounded like they had a good time. Between being heroes and the trials and tribulations they all went through, they deserved it.

“Hey! Pretty girl!”

You didn't turn toward the sound of Bucky’s voice immediately as much as you wanted to. Glancing around, you were the only one in the lounge, so who was he talking to? It would mean everything for him to call you pretty, but you were just… you.

“Steeeeve. I don’t think she heard me,” Bucky loudly whispered.

“Then say it again with feeling,” Steve loudly whispered back.

“Got it.” Bucky sucked in breath which gave you enough time to cover your ears. “HEY! PRETTY GIRL!”

“Jesus Christ, I can hear you guys,” you confirmed, shutting your book. There went your quiet evening. “I guess stealth isn’t your strong suit tonight.”

You shrieked when Bucky suddenly sat beside you, casually throwing an arm over your shoulders. Okay, he was still stealthy, and he looked amazing in his jeans and henley. “There’s my pretty girl. I missed you,” he smiled.

“Um…” You looked around to find Steve, Thor, Sam, Joaquin, and Clint hovering by with expectant looks on their faces. You tried to come up with something witty, but all you said was, “What?”

Bucky chuckled, his cheeks a bit more pink than usual. “My pretty girl is adorable, isn’t she?” he said over his shoulder before looking at you with hearts in his eyes.

You leaned in to get a closer look at him, catching a small whiff of liquor mixed with his cologne. “You’re tipsy,” you said. How was that possible?

“No, I’m Bucky. And you’re pretty,” he smiled, the dreamy look still in his eyes. “Pretty eyes, pretty smile, pretty voice. Even your name’s pretty.”

As happy as you were to hear those things, even as your heart pounded, you looked to the guys for help because Bucky couldn’t be serious. “How?”

“My apologies,” Thor spoke even louder than usual. “I shared some of my Asgardian liquor with Barnes and Rogers and… Well-”

“Bucky hasn’t shut about you,” Sam cut in, rolling his eyes. “‘My girl is the prettiest girl there is.’”

“‘Isn’t my girl brilliant? And so kind!’” Clint mocked.

“‘Her smile just lights up the room’,” Joaquin added.

“Guys, c’mon. It’s sweet,” Steve smiled before he said, “‘I’ll bet her kisses even taste pretty.’”

Heat filled your cheeks. Bucky didn’t deny a thing, so they were telling the truth, weren’t they? “But I’m not-”

The former Winter Soldier placed a hand on your cheek, drawing your attention back to him. “Don’t look at them, pretty girl. Look at me.”

You did, and it made you want to cry. Because you weren’t his girl. He was only saying these things because he was tipsy. “Okay. You had your fun, so why don’t you get some sleep?”

His smile fell away. “No,” he muttered, pulling you into his lap in the blink of an eye and putting his face in your neck. “I’m fine right here.”

His lips against your skin had you shivering, and it wasn’t possible to break from his hold. Being this close felt like a dream, but he was tipsy and you had to be the responsible one. “Um… a little help?” you asked.

“Of course.” Thor stepped forward. “Allow me.”

You smiled at the God of Thunder. “Thanks, I…” You stopped when he draped a blanket over you and Bucky. Where did that even come from? “That wasn’t what I-”

“And some water,” he smiled as Bucky nuzzled your neck with a happy moan. You tried not to let that moan turn you on. You had to be good. “Men, let us take our leave.”

“Behave, jerk,” Steve said as Thor shuffled everyone from the room.

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky snarled, nuzzling you again. The lights dimmed, too. It was almost romantic. “Not you, pretty girl. You can say whatever you want.”

You had to laugh. Laughter was better than worrying about what would happen in the morning. “So, I’m your pretty girl?”

“Yep,” he said with a smile. “All mine.”

“Okay, Sarge,” you smiled sadly. “I’m your pretty girl.”

Relaxing in his hold, you could pretend until he was sober that you were.

Love and thanks for participating in Ficlet Friday! ❤️ And this one may be fun to continue.

[vunblr]

What if...?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Unprotected sex. Dirty talk. Slight Angst.

Summary: Bucky navigates his insecurities and guilt from his past as he grows closer to his new neighbor, a nurse.

Word Count: About 7.9k.

She knew exactly who he was the first time they bumped into each other when she ran toward the stairs of her apartment building, and he suddenly emerged from them, lost in thought. He wasn’t wearing his gloves, and the glint of metal was pretty noticeable when he reached out to grab her elbow to prevent her from falling backward. The touch was brief, since he retired his hand promptly when he was sure she would not fall, and his blue eyes revealing something akin to regret.

“I… I’m sorry,” he stammered in a low voice as he retracted his hand, tucking it into his jacket.

“Oh, don’t be,” she responded, lifting the corners of her lips just slightly as she waved her hand dismissively. “I should’ve been more careful. The elevator’s out, and I was in such a hurry… ugh. We always tell the kids not to run in hallways and stairs because accidents can happen, and here I am sprinting-" She cut herself off, realizing she was rambling, and gave an embarrassed smile. “Anyway… hi. I’m Y/n, I just moved in yesterday.” She declared, offering her hand.

He reached out in a firm but gentle grip. “James Barnes, but most people call me Bucky.”

Her eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, and as she straightened her nurse uniform, she bit her lip. Handsome. The cute wrinkles that creased the corners of his striking blue eyes, were the kind that hinted at a man who had both smiled and seen more than his fair share of hardship, and it was hard not to notice. His body was the epitome of perfection. She mentally slapped herself for staring. “Well, Bucky, I’m running late for work, so I need to go, but I’ll see you around. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

He nodded, watching as she hurried down the stairs, her uniform swaying slightly with her steps. He just stood there, rooted to the spot for a moment longer than he should have, replaying the soft smile on her lips.

The days after that encounter passed in a blur of awkward run-ins. Each time, she greeted him with the same soft smile and each time, Bucky found himself lost in thoughts he hadn’t allowed himself in years.

It started with a polite nod, maybe a fleeting smile. Then came the casual exchanges—small talk about the weather, their days, even the occasional joke about the quirks of their shared building. Before he realized it, those brief moments had become something he looked forward to. It felt so easy to talk to her, and her laughter always seemed to come just when he needed to hear it. Sometimes, he’d catch her gaze lingering on him a second too long before she looked away, and it was enough to make him wonder if maybe, she felt the same pull that he did.

-----

One evening, as they both stood waiting for the elevator, she quirked a brow at him. "You know, Bucky, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were following me." She teased.

He blinked, caught off guard, but the playful glint in her eyes made him relax. He let out a small chuckle. "Well… I could say the same about you." She laughed, and once again, the sound made him feel almost normal.

His therapist had been telling him for months that he was alone, and isolated, and that he needed to socialize, and form connections. She had even suggested dating, but every time he tried, it hadn’t gone well. The interactions felt awkward and forced, and he often found an excuse to leave early, or worse, sometimes he didn’t even bother with an excuse, just walking out of there without a word.

There was something about her that set her apart, mostly the ease with which their conversations flowed. He wasn’t the type to talk much, often keeping things curt and to the point, but she had this way of making the silence between them feel comfortable, never pushing him to share more than he wanted. He didn’t have to try so hard to keep up with standard appearances.

But the attraction wasn’t just about comfort. No, he wanted her.

He caught himself watching her more often than he cared to admit. She was exactly his type—soft, curvy in all the right places. And he couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to touch her, to trace his hands over her body, to feel her warmth beneath his fingertips.

But every time he got close to asking her out, fear crept in, locking the words in his throat. Fear of rejection. Of being too damaged. Of her seeing the parts of him he was ashamed of. And so, he always stopped himself.

Tonight felt different, though. There was something in her playful approach that made the fear feel less suffocating, less overwhelming. The elevator doors opened, and as they stepped inside, Bucky turned to her with his heart hammering in his chest. He could barely believe he was about to do this.

"Can I ask you something?" he murmured.

She glanced at him. "Yeah?"

He swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the moment as he stood before her, and almost panicked. This wasn’t something he was used to. He could fight gruesome battles, survive impossible odds, flip a fucking armored truck with a tug of his arm… but asking someone out? That felt like a whole different battlefield. It was terrifying in a way those other things weren’t.

For a moment, he almost backpedaled. His mind scrambled, desperately searching for something else to say, some way to deflect his intentions and change the subject. But nothing came. He was stuck. He’d already opened his mouth, and there was no way to retreat now without looking like a fool.

So taking a deep breath, he jumped.

“Would you like to grab dinner with me sometime?” The words came out gruffly. For a second, the doubt crept inside his brain, making him wonder if he’d just made a mistake.

But her eyes widened in surprise before lighting up, and the smile that spread across her face eased the knot on his stomach.

“Oh, I’d love to! It’d be fun to do something outside the building for a change. We run into each other so much, that I actually have thought about asking you to hang out, but you always seemed rushed, like you couldn’t wait to leave... I’m glad that’s not the case.” She leaned in slightly, and her voice dropped to a playful whisper. “You know, we can be neighbors and friends. There’s nothing in the building rules against it.”

Bucky blinked, and his heart sank at the word friends. He forced one of the practiced, uncomfortable smiles his therapist suggested. Friendzoned -a term he’d only recently discovered- wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but he hadn’t spelled it out, either. Of course she thought he was just trying to be friendly, he hadn’t given her a fucking hint of his real intentions. He hadn’t flirted, hadn’t made even the slightest move to swoon her.

The old him would’ve had no trouble conveying his interest. He would’ve been smooth and confident, knowing exactly how to charm her and make his intentions clear. But he wasn’t that guy anymore. He hadn’t done this in decades, and the rules seemed to have shifted in ways he didn’t fully understand. Hell, he had shifted. He sighed. 

“Um-” he started, hesitant. “Just to be clear…” He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes flickering to hers. “I meant it… as a date. Not just neighbors or friends grabbing a bite.”

For a moment, she didn’t respond, still processing his words. And then, something clicked. Heat crept up her neck as her smile turned thoughtful. He wasn’t asking because they lived in the same building or because they ran into each other so often. He wanted to spend time with her because he was interested.

"Oh. Sorry, I didn’t realize… I mean…” she stumbled with her words, “I didn’t know you meant it like that." She has had her fair share of men in her life but being honest with herself, in a million years, she wouldn’t have guessed someone like him would be asking her out. Not Bucky, the quiet, handsome, brooding neighbor with the sharp jawline and the weight of a thousand untold stories in his eyes. For months, she had brushed off the little moments between them as neighborly interactions, and nothing more. It had been easier that way. Safer, maybe. But now, standing here, the truth of his intentions was undeniable.

Her smile softened, "Well, I’m glad you clarified." she finally said. "And yeah, Bucky. I’d like that, a lot."

He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, as if he’d been holding his breath and had just now allowed himself to exhale. A faint smile crept onto his lips, one that actually reached his eyes, softening the hardened edges he usually carried.

"Great," he murmured. "I’ll, uh, figure something out."

They shared one last look before the elevator doors opened, and as they stepped out, his heart was still racing but this time, it wasn’t from fear.

------

The first date had been simple. He brought her flowers, a small, hesitant gesture that made her eyes light up. They went to a bistro and talked about life, interests, and the kind of things you only share when you feel a certain sense of safety with someone. Bucky never said more than necessary, but she learned to read the way his eyes softened when he listened, the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when she said something that caught him off guard. It was as easy and comfortable as their previous interactions, and yet, in the back of his mind, there was always the whisper: do you even deserve this?

The second date was at the small café on the corner of their building. There had been more laughter this time, and the conversation flowed even more easily. As they sat across from each other, their knees brushed under the table. It was subtle, almost unintentional. When it happened again, neither of them moved away.

They walked back in a comfortable silence. When they reached her door, she turned to face him and for a moment the space between them felt heavier, thick with the weight of everything unsaid.

His hand hovered just near her lower back, not quite touching, but close enough that she felt the warmth of his body through the fabric of her dress. For a brief second, she thought he might pull her closer to break that last sliver of space between them, but he didn’t. His hand lingered for just a moment longer before falling away.

Bucky’s gaze dropped briefly to her lips, and his brows furrowed slightly before looking away, almost as if chastising himself. His old-fashioned upbringing, perhaps, held him back and kept him from making the move she half-expected, the one she wanted.

“Goodnight,” he said quietly, in a rougher tone than usual. His tired eyes lingered on hers just a little too long, as if he were still debating, still fighting the pull to act on the desire he was clearly feeling.

She nodded, trying to ignore the flutter on her chest and to respect his boundaries, even though her hands itched to reach for him, to pull him closer and start what he wouldn’t. “Goodnight, Bucky,” she replied softly, her own voice betraying the emotions swirling beneath the surface.

They stood there for a heartbeat longer, and the short distance between their doors now felt like miles. He gave her a small, almost hesitant smile, then turned toward his apartment, and the silence between them somehow felt louder now.

By the time the third date approached, Bucky’s nerves were starting to get the better of him. He didn’t want to ruin this. The cocky Sergeant Barnes -the man who hadn’t yet turned into a walking nightmare- would’ve laughed at him. That version of himself had been bold, self-assured, the type of man who could sweep a woman off her feet without a second thought. He’d have taken the lead with ease, knowing exactly how to handle the situation. But that man was long gone, buried beneath the weight of all he had done, all he had become.

Before leaving for the date, he poured himself an imperial pint of asgardian ale. Just enough to give him a buzz, to take the edge off. Standing there, glass in hand, he caught his reflection in the window and sighed. Could she see it, the darkness? The scars left behind from being Hydra’s puppet? And even if she didn’t... how long until she did?

You don’t deserve this, the voice whispered again, unrelenting.

------

That night, after dinner, they found themselves in her living room, two untouched coffee cups growing cold on the table beside them. The dim light softened the space around them, creating an intimate cocoon that made their conversation flow effortlessly. Yet, beneath the easy chatter, Bucky’s doubts lingered. He couldn’t shake the feeling that any move forward could shatter the delicate balance between them.

He’d been raised with a sense of propriety, a rhythm to follow when it came to courting. There was a dance to it, an unspoken set of rules about when to advance and when to hold back. The trouble now was figuring out how much to let himself move forward, how far to let this go before the weight of his past dragged him under again.

As their conversation naturally ebbed into silence, he noticed her gaze flicker to his lips, lingering just a bit longer than usual. His pulse quickened. She was giving him a sign, even if she hadn’t meant to. For a brief moment, he hesitated, but the look in her eyes, and the ale still running through his system urged him forward.

He leaned in slightly, and their knees brushed. The warmth of her body drew him closer. His hand hovered near her arm, and she responded getting closer, parting her lips ever so slightly as if inviting him in without saying a word.

Slowly, deliberately, he closed the distance between them, as his heart pounded in his chest. The kiss was meant to be soft and chaste, but all restraint flew out the window the second their lips touched.

His hand slipped to the small of her back, pulling her closer, and the kiss grew hungrier, more urgent, as if months of longing were unraveling in that single moment. With a gentle, almost teasing flick of his tongue against her lower lip, he urged her to open her mouth. She complied, parting her lips as she allowed him in, and things turned molten. His tongue slid against hers, and the heat spiraled when she let out a quiet, breathless moan. The sound sent a jolt of desire straight to his cock, pushing him further. His metal hand remained firm on her back, pulling her as close as possible, while the other slipped into her hair. She responded eagerly, gliding her fingers up his chest and tangling in his now messy hair, tugging him closer as if she couldn’t get enough. The kiss was all-consuming, urgent, and messy, as months of tension finally broke free. Eventually, they slowly pulled apart, their heavy breaths mingling in the charged air between them. His gaze dropped to her lips, now swollen and flushed, and he felt the undeniable pull to dive back in.

Then he noticed it.

His vibranium hand had slid down to her waist and was gripping harder than he intended. Much harder. He swallowed and looked at it, realizing what he had done. His hand, still gripping tightly, could have harmed her. He sighed, as the frustration and self-reproach tugged at him, unable to find a balance between his longing and his fear of hurting her.

She caught the sigh, and her eyes followed his downward gaze until they landed on his hand, still gripping her waist. And then it clicked, she understood. It wasn’t just the pressure of his hand; it was everything behind it. The strength he was constantly aware of, the control he had to maintain, the fear of hurting someone he cared about without meaning to. It wasn’t just about this moment, it was about everything he carried with him.

Instead of pulling away, she did the opposite. She shifted slightly, pressing closer into his hand, reassuring him. With that small gesture, she was telling him she trusted him, she wasn’t fragile, and she wasn’t going to break. He didn’t need to hold back with her.

He exhaled softly, and a question escaped his lips, one that had been lingering in his mind for far too long. “Have you ever thought how things would have been if we had met under different circumstances?” he wondered.

Her brow furrowed slightly. “Different how?” she asked, leaning in a little, searching his eyes.

Bucky took a breath, and his gaze drifted again as if he were caught somewhere between the past and the present. “I mean… if I hadn’t been…” He trailed off for a second, a shadow crossing his expression. “If I didn’t become what I am. If I’d been just… me.” His voice was low, barely above a whisper, as though speaking the words out loud might break something fragile between them.

She stayed quiet, giving him the space he needed, her hand resting gently on his arm, a subtle reassurance.

“I think about it sometimes,” he admitted, and his eyes were distant, fixed on a point somewhere beyond her. “If we’d met before all the... before everything.” His lips pressed into a thin line, guilt flickering behind his blue eyes. “Maybe in another time, I could’ve been just a guy. Someone who didn’t have…” He paused, still pressing his vibranium hand against her back. “Someone that wouldn’t have been so messed up. Someone normal and approachable.”

Her heart clenched at the weight of his words. “Bucky-“ she started, but he shook his head slightly as if to wave off her sympathy.

“I don’t know,” he continued. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve…” He cut himself off, jaw tightening.

Without hesitation, she entwined their fingers, squeezing gently. “You do deserve this,” she said firmly as she met his gaze. She wasn’t going to let him retreat into the dark place where his self-deprecation lived. “You deserve to be happy, Buck. You’re a good man.” She sighed and shifted beside him, resting her head against the couch as she considered his previous words, and then, an idea popped up.

“Let’s see… if I had been born before 1920, I’d probably still be a nurse.” Her lips curved into a small smile as she looked at him sideways, eyes gleaming in the dim light. She watched his reaction closely, and her heart thumped a little faster as she waited. “I’d have enlisted to work in a field hospital. And… who knows, maybe we could have met when you were serving.” She let the thought linger in the air, light and playful, hoping it would lift the mood.

Bucky’s brows lifted slightly, and then he tilted his head, with a faint smile tugging at his lips. He shifted closer to her without even realizing, with his hand still resting lightly on her waist. “You would’ve been responsible for making sure I was fit for duty,” he mused, his tone was a little lighter now as if the idea of an alternate history didn’t seem so bad. “Keeping an eye on me, seeing my injuries, maybe even patching me up yourself.” He added with a playful edge, allowing himself to immerse in the scenario.

She grinned, shaking her head, eyes twinkling as she imagined the scene. “Oh, from what I heard about you, I doubt you would have visited the hospital very often, Sarge,” she teased, nudging his knee with hers playfully, a grin tugging at her lips.

Bucky chuckled, as his thumb began tracing slow, soothing circles on her back, a gesture she was growing fond of. “Probably not,” he agreed, leaning in slightly, “But I would’ve noticed you from afar. Even if I had no reason to be there, you would’ve stood out.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as her fingers absentmindedly brushed the back of his hand, and a smile played on her lips as she waited for his answer.

Bucky glanced down at their intertwined hands, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against her softer ones. He looked back up at her. “Because you’re beautiful,” he said simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

She blinked, caught off guard. “Beautiful, me? Pfft!” She laughed softly, with a playful spark in her eyes. “But... now that I think about it, pin-up girls were a thing when you were serving, weren’t they?”

Bucky leaned back into the couch, pulling her with him, wrapping his arm firmer around her waist, with a slow grin. “Yeah, well, nurses were definitely included in the ‘interesting’ category too,” he teased. His eyes flicked down, tracing the curves of her body as his hand tightened slightly around her waist, making her feel self-conscious. “Especially ones with curves like yours.”

She let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head, but before she could say anything, Bucky continued, his voice lower now, with a bit more serious tone. “You’d have been popular among the guys in camp, you know. They’d have been lining up, falling over themselves to get your attention.” He paused, flicking his gaze back to hers. “But trust me, I would’ve noticed you first. And I wouldn’t have let anyone else have a shot.”

Her cheeks heated as she tucked her legs beneath her, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh, so you would’ve asked me out?” she teased.

Bucky turned slightly toward her, sliding down slowly the hand resting on her arm, brushing her skin in soft, teasing strokes. “Oh, I wouldn’t have just asked,” he said with a smirk. “I’d have made sure you had no reason to say no.”

She felt her heart quicken at the subtle heat in his voice, the playful edge giving way to something more intense. Her breath hitched slightly, and she bit her lip as she gazed up at him. “Is that so?” she murmured. “And how would you have done that?” She leaned in a little, brushing her shoulder against his, closing the small space between them. “How was the game back then? Brought flowers? Invited me to dance?”

“Both, probably,” he murmured, resting his hand on her thigh, grazing the fabric of her dress with his thumb in slow, deliberate motions. “Flowers, because they’re classic... and dancing, because it’s intimate.”

“Well,” she whispered, leaning her head toward him, lips just inches from his ear, “I guess I would’ve let you court me, Sarge. Tell me about a date with you.”

Bucky’s hand tightened slightly on her thigh, just enough to make her heart race. His stubbled cheek brushed against hers as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin. “Saturday night,” he whispered, barely grazing his lips on the shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine, “dinner at the Officers’ Club, followed by a slow dance... and then back to my quarters for a proper goodnight kiss.”

Her breath hitched, and her pulse quickened as the warmth of his breath and the weight of his words settled in her brain. She could feel the tension thickening in the air, and then, with almost a trembling voice, she teased, “Only a kiss?”

Bucky smirked against her skin, hovering his lips near her ear. “Maybe more than just a kiss,” he rasped, low and full of promise, “but only if you wanted it too.”

She arched an eyebrow, curving her lips into a teasing smile. “Hmm, I dunno, Sergeant Barnes... things were done more properly back then, right? No sex before marriage, and all that stuff?”

He let out a low chuckle, already inching his hand higher up her thigh. “You’re absolutely right,” he agreed, with a teasing edge. “I would've waited until our wedding night…” His hand slid beneath the fabric of her dress, fingers grazing the soft skin of her thigh. “But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have thought about it. Every. Single. Day.” He leaned in again as he whispered. “How you’d look... how you’d feel... imagining all the ways I’d finally get to touch you.” His breath was warm against her skin, and the words, heavy with tension.

“Is that so?” she murmured, sliding her fingers up his chest, gripping his collar just enough to keep him close. “You think you could’ve waited?”

His hand tightened again on her thigh. “I would’ve tried... but I don’t think you would’ve made it easy.” Bucky’s playful tone faded into something more serious, and his voice dropped to a husky murmur. “Would you have let me… let me have you like that?”

She swallowed, gripping his shirt tighter as she looked up into his eyes, feeling the pull toward him in a way that left her defenseless. “I-” her voice faltered, but she managed to find her words. “Yeah, Bucky... I would’ve.”

Bucky’s vibranium hand, firm but tender, climbed from her waist tracing a slow, deliberate path up her spine. He then reached upfront for the little buttons at the neckline of her dress, being careful and bold as he unfastened them, one by one. Each undone button revealed more of her skin to his darkened gaze, and the way he looked at her made her feel exposed in a way that went beyond the physical. “I would’ve taken care of you,” he murmured, brushing his lips on her collarbone. “Made sure no one else got close to you.”

Her body leaned instinctively toward him, craving the closeness as her free hand ran up his arm, tracing the firm muscles beneath his shirt. “No one else would’ve mattered,” she whispered.

With a swift, deliberate motion, the hand on her neckline slid down and snaked behind her, grasping her ass and pulling her fully into his lap. She gasped as her hips pressed against his, feeling exactly how much he wanted her. “Every night,” he growled with need, “I would’ve made sure you were mine.” His eyes were ablaze with raw desire as he tightened his grip holding her firmly against his groin.

Her pulse raced, and her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them, and his mouth crashed into hers in a searing kiss. His other hand slid higher up her thigh, teasing the edge of her panties, brushing the soft skin. A soft moan escaped her lips, muffled by the kiss, and when he broke it, his lips found the curve of her neck.

“So only one kiss, huh?” she chuckled in a breathed tone, and her voice trembled with anticipation as her hips instinctively rocked against his.

Bucky inhaled deeply against her skin, trailing hot kisses toward her breasts. “Well, I would've kissed you every chance I got but believe me, that wouldn’t have been enough...” His words were thick with promise, and his breath was hot against her skin. He pressed his erection harder against her, slipping his hand between them, tracing her slick heat over her underwear with his fingers. The breathless gasp that escaped her was all the encouragement he needed. “… that wouldn’t have been fucking enough.” he whispered against her skin, his voice low and filled with hunger, as his fingers moved with purpose, leaving no doubt about what he wanted.

She bit her lip, and her voice was soft but laced with playful intent as she fed into the fantasy they were weaving. “Well, if we had ourselves a little house with a white fence, I’d have waited for you to come home every day in a frilly apron,” she locked her eyes onto his, and a teasing smile tugged at her lips as she added, “with nothing underneath.”

The image she painted made Bucky’s breath hitch, and his grip tightened around her ass. His eyes nearly rolled back, his imagination spiraling into wild possibilities. “Damn.” His voice was laced with lust. “If I could’ve had you waiting for me like that,” he murmured, gripping her tighter, fingers digging into her skin as his restraint began to falter “I’d have come home early every damn day just to take advantage of you.” His lips brushed the swell of her breasts, and the heat between them spiraled as his imagination ran wild, pulling her impossibly closer while teasing over her soaked panties.

Her gaze flicked from his lips back to his darkened eyes. “Oh yeah?” she challenged, in a sultry whisper. “Right there on the kitchen table?”

Bucky’s smirk deepened, and the raw desire in his eyes nearly swallowed her whole. “Hell yes, right there on the kitchen table,” he growled, his vibranium hand gripping her ass harder, possessively. “I’d bend you over it, flip up that little apron, and bury myself inside you until you screamed my name for the whole damn neighborhood to hear.” He confessed without a hint of shame or remorse.

Her body reacted instantly, pressing her hips hard against the teasing hand hovering over her clothed pussy. A soft, almost desperate whimper escaped her lips. His hand answered her need by slipping her panties aside, slowly sinking his fingers into her pussy, stretching her with deliberate, agonizing precision.

She let out a shaky breath, and her playful tone faltered as her body betrayed her. “How kinky,” she managed to tease, biting her lip as she met his gaze.

Bucky inhaled sharply, savoring the way she responded to him, moving his hand with more purpose now. “Kinky enough to have you blushing for days,” he growled, grazing his teeth up to her jawline before dragging his lips slowly up to brush against hers. His fingers kept sliding deeper inside her with slow, deliberate strokes. “And when the milkman came the next morning…” The hand on her ass squeezed the supple skin harder, pulling her even close against him, while the other continued its relentless torment between her legs. “...you’d be so sore from the night before, you wouldn’t even be able to stand straight. Couldn’t look anyone in the eye without blushing, remembering just how loud you screamed.”

She moaned at his statement, totally immersed in the fantasy. “Fuck, that sounds… so good, Buck.” She managed to say, as her voice trembled with want. She bit her lip again, locking eyes with him and starting to ground herself shamelessly against his fingers, as the pressure built quickly inside her. “But... would you only fuck me at the kitchen table when coming back? What about… other creative places? Like the back porch, under the shade of the bindweed?”

Bucky's eyes closed as her suggestion sparked a flood of heated thoughts. “Absolutely," he growled. He pushed his fingers knuckle-deep inside her, while his thumb circled her swollen clit, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips. “I’d lift that sexy little apron right up, spread your legs wide open, and fuck you right there under the bindweeds," he murmured, brushing her ear, each word laced with dark promise. "And you'd moan my name, scream it, while everyone else thinks we’re just having a quiet afternoon tea."

The combination of his filthy words and the relentless pressure of his fingers sent her body trembling with anticipation, and her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. "Bucky…" she moaned softly, tightening her grip on him, desperate for everything he was giving her. Her hips bucked uncontrollably against his hand, and her breath hitched as his fingers curled inside her, hitting just the right spot that sent waves of pleasure radiating through her body. The pleasure kept building inside her, tightening, and coiling until every nerve in her body felt alive.

He felt the signals and growled, moving faster now, each stroke deliberate and calculated as his forehead pressed against hers. “I’d made sure no one could ever touch you the way I did,” he muttered, his voice low and possessive. "Every inch of you, mine." He punctuated the last words with hard, rhythmic rubs at one side of her clit and that was all she needed for the climax to hit her, a wave of intense pleasure crashing through her entire body. Her moans turned into soft cries as she buried her face on his neck, trembling violently as his hand continued to work her through it, prolonging her ecstasy.

When her body came down from her high, Bucky slowly withdrew his fingers. Panting, she looked at him and saw the raw, unbridled desire burning in his blue eyes. Without hesitation, she leaned in, finding his stubbled jaw with her lips, trailing soft, hungry kisses down his neck, nipping and sucking against his skin while her hand wandered lower and lower on his abdomen, finally unbuttoning his pants with deliberate slowness, venturing inside his underwear.

The moment her fingers brushed against his cock, he tensed and groaned. “W-wait,” he rasped, thick with need and restraint. His hand held hers firmly, keeping her from going further.

Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion, her lips still hovering near his neck. “Why?” she murmured, “I want to make you feel good too. You deserve it, Bucky,” she whispered, her words full of tenderness and desire.

Bucky let out a low, shaky breath with a hint of frustration. He knew he had to come clean. “I want it too, trust me,” he muttered, strained. “But it’s been so long... too long. If you touch me now…” He trailed off, swallowing hard. “Let me lead,” he whispered. He leaned in to kiss her, deep and slow, pouring all his pent-up desire into the kiss.

She sighed softly, pulling back just enough to reach for the hem of her dress, slipping it over her head in one fluid motion. The fabric lifted away from her body, leaving her sitting in only her bra and panties as the dress was tossed to the side of the couch.

Bucky’s gaze darkened as he took her in, and his hands instinctively roamed over her bare skin. But then he groaned again softly, almost painfully, pausing as his grip tightened around her waist. “What happened to let me lead?” he rasped with restraint.

She parted her lips to respond with a half-hearted apology, but before she could, his hands were already sliding down her body, reclaiming control. His fingers traced her bra straps, slipping them off her shoulders with excruciating slowness. “I need to do it my way,” he murmured in a low growl as he leaned in, brushing her ear with his lips. “If you don’t behave... this ends before we even begin.”

The meaning of his earlier words hit her then. He wasn’t just leading to take his time with her; he was fighting to keep from losing control, from coming right there in his pants. Her teasing grin faltered, replaced with a softer expression. “Oh,” she whispered with understanding. “Sorry, I didn’t realize…” Her fingers gently grazed his cheek. “I didn’t mean to push you.” And then he saw the guilt on her face.

Bucky tensed slightly, inwardly cursing himself for letting his vulnerability slip. His masculine pride stung. Great job. Way to cool the mood. He forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers in an attempt to brush off the tension. “It’s alright,” he muttered, but the strain in his voice betrayed him. His fingers dug into her hips just a little, “I just... got worked up faster than I expected.” He exhaled shakily, trying to ease the tension. Then he started to move.

As his fingers worked at the clasp of her bra, slow and deliberate, he broke the silence with a low murmur thick with desire. “You know… I liked you from the moment we bumped into each other on the stairs,” he confessed, meeting her gaze. “I still remember the way you looked at me, even after I knocked you off balance and grabbed your arm. No gloves, metal hand out in the open… but you didn’t flinch.”

When her bra fell away, his gaze dropped to her exposed breasts, and a low groan rumbled in his chest. His flesh hand cupped her gently, brushing his thumb over her nipple in a slow, teasing motion.

“I loved how your uniform looked on you then,” he continued, as his tone grew huskier and his vibranium hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her closer. “I still do. Every time I see you in it, it makes it hard to focus on anything else.”

His thumb continued its slow teasing, but then his expression shifted, and a flicker of doubt crossed his face. His voice dropped, and a hint of regret slipped into his words. “I wish I’d asked you out sooner. The old me… he would've handled this better. Would’ve known exactly how to-”

“Stop,” She cut him off before he could finish, threading her fingers through his hair as she pulled him closer. “The moment of ‘what if’ has already passed. I don't want the man you used to be, Bucky.” Her lips brushed against his jaw, “I want you. Not someone I never knew.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them fixing his gaze on hers. She wasn’t looking for the version of him with the effortless charm and swagger. She never did. She wanted him, baggage, scars, and everything else.

A slow, shaky breath escaped his lips, “You don’t know how much that means,” he muttered, brushing his lips against her jaw, then down to her neck. His movements were soft at first, but as her nails scrapped softly at his scalp, urging him on, the hesitation melted away.

His mouth found hers again, kissing her hard, moving his hands with more confidence again. “I’ve wanted this... you,” he rasped, his breath hot against her skin. “For so damn long.” She responded with a moan, arching into him as he took full control.

He groaned, unable to hold back any longer. He gently shifted her off his lap, laying her down on the couch, leaving his hands on her hips for a moment before he stood. His breathing was heavy, and though his chest tightened with familiar insecurities, especially about his arm, he pushed forward.

His fingers moved to the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. As the fabric fell to the floor, his eyes darted to her face, half-expecting some flicker of hesitation or doubt. Instead, her gaze roamed over him, dark with desire as her eyes took in the hard lines of his chest. “Damn... you’re perfect.” Her voice came out breathy and soft. Swallowing hard, Bucky quickly slid his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion, kicking them aside. Now fully bare before her, he stood there, chest rising and falling as her gaze lingered on him. He could see her eyes focused on his size for a brief moment, her lips parting as she let out a soft, breathless sound. The way she looked at him -no hesitation, only hunger- made his insecurities, the doubts about his scars, his arm, everything, to retract to a far corner of his mind.

Without a word, he climbed on top of her, positioning himself between her legs. His hands trailed down her sides, gripping her hips firmly as he pulled her closer. Slowly, he guided his cock to her slick pussy, teasing her as he coated his shaft with her wetness. A low, rumbling groan escaped his lips as he playfully rubbed the tip of his cock against her clit.

She reacted instantly, writhing beneath him. “Bucky…” she moaned softly, tilting up her hips toward him, aching for more.

He moved slowly, sliding inside her inch by inch, pausing as soon as he was fully sheathed, giving her a moment to adjust. Her body clenched tightly around him, and a gasp escaped her lips as her nails dug into his shoulders as he waited. Her breath came in shallow, uneven bursts, the feeling of his cock filling her was completely overwhelming.

He pulled back slightly, then pushed forward again, slowly and deliberately, testing her response. She bit her lip, eyes fluttering shut as she struggled to find her breath, her thighs trembling around his hips with each thrust.

“Fuck, Bucky,” she managed to whisper breathlessly, her voice barely audible but heavy with surprise and awe. “You’re big. I’ve never- oh, God!”

Her words sparked something deep within him, the mixture of pleasure-pain igniting a fire he could barely contain. A low growl rumbled in his throat as his control began to slip. His hands moved to the back of her thighs, gripping them firmly just beneath her knees, then in one swift motion, he lifted her legs, spreading her wider as he started to thrust deeper, hitting spots that made her eyes fly open, a strangled moan escaping her lips. “Bucky… oh my God,” she gasped again, her voice trembling as she struggled to take all of him.

Encouraged by her reaction, he picked up the pace, thrusts growing harder and faster, losing himself in the haze of lust that overtook him. He pulled her thighs higher, spreading her wider, driving into her with relentless force. Each thrust was deeper and rougher, and her moans quickly turned into desperate, breathless cries of pleasure.

The sound of her moans, the way she cried out his name, only fueled him further. “You like that?” he growled, in a low and ragged voice as he thrust into her again, deeper, harder. Her slick heat gripped him tighter and pulled him deeper with every movement, making his pulse race. “Look at me, Doll. You like it rough?”

Her body arched beneath him, her hands scrambling for something to hold onto as the force of his thrusts tore through her body. “Yes! Bucky… fuck! Don’t stop,” she moaned, her voice breaking as he kept his relentless, punishing pace.

“Oh, I won’t stop,” he growled, pulling out of her with a slick sound, only to flip her over onto her stomach in one swift motion. His hands gripped her hips roughly, pulling her ass up and positioning her on all fours before she had time to catch her breath.

Before she could process the shift, Bucky slammed back into her, filling her completely. She gasped, and her fingers clutched at the couch cushions as he drove into her from behind, with an unrelenting pace. “Is this what you wanted, hm?” he rasped, his flesh hand sliding up her back before grabbing a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back slightly as he rammed against her, thrusting deep and hard.

She let out a scream of pleasure as he pounded into her. “Yes! Oh God, yes,” she cried, her body helpless under his rough control.

Bucky grunted with each powerful thrust, tightening his grip on her hair, digging his metal fingers into her hip, guiding her back onto him. The angle allowed him to go even deeper, kissing her cervix with every heavy push of his hips. Her broken moans only spurred him on, so he kept the rhythm of their bodies frantic and primal, skin slapping against skin in a lewd symphony.

He released her hair and grabbed both her hips, yanking her back onto his cock with force, losing himself in the haze of lust. “Come for me,” he growled, his hand coming down on her ass with a sharp smack, making her gasp.

Before she could recover, his fingers slid between her legs, finding her clit. He circled it with firm, deliberate pressure as he leaned over her, thrusting still deeper. “I want you to fucking come all over me, Doll.” The moment his fingers touched her, her body responded, hips bucking involuntarily as her breath hitched. The pressure building inside her hit its peak, and with a loud, desperate moan, she shattered beneath him, trembling violently as she came.

The tight, pulsing grip of her body sent Bucky over the edge. “Fuck,” he ground out, as his muscles locked when the pleasure slammed into him, sharp and all-consuming. He buried himself deep with a final, shuddering thrust, thick warmth spilling inside her as his body tensed and jerked, caught in the force of his orgasm. A ragged gasp left his lips as he pressed his forehead to her back, riding out the aftershocks while the last tremors of pleasure rippled through their bodies.

The room was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing, their bodies still trembling, slick with sweat as they tried to come down from the high. Bucky stayed inside her a moment longer, moving his fingers in slow, lazy circles over her clit, drawing out every last shiver of pleasure as her body pulsed beneath him.

But as the haze of bliss began to fade, his mind caught up with his body, and a flicker of doubt creeping in. Had he been… too much?

Slowly, he withdrew, and the sudden cool air contrasted with the heat their bodies have shared. His hand slid up to her shoulder, gently, almost hesitant. “Are you okay?” His voice was low, uncertain.

She turned her head slightly, pressing her cheek into the cushion as her hooded eyes found his. “Better than okay,” she murmured. “That was... perfect, Buck.”

He exhaled, feeling the tension in his body ease a little, but as always, his mind refused to quiet. What if she was trying to play it cool after being on the receiving end of nearly eighty years of pent-up frustration?

Sensing his unease, she shifted, sitting up on the couch. Her hands cradled his face, gently brushing her thumbs against his skin. He looked almost miserable for someone who had, minutes ago, been nothing short of a god of intercourse.

“You didn’t hurt me, Bucky,” she said. “I meant it when I said it was perfect. Stop overthinking. It was the best I’ve ever had.” Her cheeks heated as she realized the weight of her words, but she didn’t back down. “I mean it,” she added, as her gaze dropped for a moment.

The tension in his body slowly began to melt away as he absorbed her words. His breathing steadied, and the storm of doubts in his mind started to quiet. He looked down, feeling a pang of guilt for letting his insecurities creep in precisely in that moment. Running a hand through his messy hair, he shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to ruin… I just- I get in my head sometimes.”

She gave him a gentle smile, brushing her fingers on his scruffy cheek again. “You didn’t ruin anything, Bucky, not even close. If anything, the only thing you’ll have to atone for is setting the bar pretty high.” she winked.

Bucky’s lips curved into a small, almost shy smile and he exhaled deeply, feeling how the weight on his chest finally lifted. Without saying anything else, he reached up, gently cupping her cheek, brushing softly over her skin in a silent gesture of gratitude.

They stayed like that for a while, comforted on each other’s caresses. The silence between them wasn’t empty; it was full of understanding, unspoken promises, and the certainty that, somehow, they were exactly where they were meant to be.

Dividers by: @/strangergraphics

[sinner-as-saint]

here forever

Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Run-through: Dating a superhero was no joke. And as noble as Bucky’s job was, it was just as dangerous and unpredictable. Which is why ever since you and Bucky started dating, he’d been training you in his free time. Teaching you how to defend yourself if ever he wasn’t around to protect you, or if ever his enemies came after you. Although you weren’t perfect at combat yet, you were almost certain you could get out of a tricky situation if you ever found yourself in one. But you were soon proven wrong. And your only option was to hope and pray that Bucky finds you in time. 

Themes: smut, fluff, mentions of kidnapping and death, boyfriend!bucky to the rescue, slight angst, hurt/comfort, mean!dom!bucky, aftercare, biker!bucky (except i made him wear a helmet because safety), mild daddy kink (nicknames only)

a/n: short, quick lil fic because I know we’re all hungry

It had been two hours since these strange men had so easily abducted you off the streets. 

It was a regular day, you were leaving yoga class and were on your way to pick up a smoothie. A treat you always got yourself after each workout class. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except Bucky’s incessant messages asking about your location. 

You knew you weren’t supposed to let your guard down, not even on busy streets – one of the first lessons Bucky taught you just weeks after your first date with him. But you couldn’t help looking down and frowning at your phone. Your bag, purse and phone in your hands. Always have your hands free when walking alone, even on busy streets – the second thing he taught you. 

Always be ready. Always be ready. Always be fucking ready. 

But you had messed up that morning. Bucky’s messages were starting to worry you. He had been away since last night, and as usual, never gave you too many details about his job. But all you knew was that before he left, he’d asked you to try and not go out if you could. Your apartment was safe. He had eyes all over that building. Cameras, security guards, it was the safest place you could be. 

‘Where are you? Why aren’t you home?’

Seconds later: 

‘I told you not to go out. It’s not safe right now. Call me.’ 

Then some missed calls which you couldn’t answer because you were in class at the time. Then messages one after the other: 

‘Go straight home.’ 

‘Is your class over?’ 

‘Go home and wait for me. Don’t open the door for anyone else.’ 

‘Baby I’m so serious right now, go home.’ 

And you were midway through typing an answer to reply to him. To tell him not to worry. To tell him that yes your class was over, and everything was okay and you would call him as soon as you got home. 

But you never got the chance to reply to his messages. 

It all happened too fast. One moment you were looking down, all your focus on your phone and boyfriend, and the next, you were being grabbed and shoved into a dark truck. You barely even got a scream out before the doors were shut and a tape sealed your mouth, ropes snaking around your wrists and ankles. 

And just like that, in less than a full minute, you were taken. 

And here you were now. 

In the back of that same truck which had been driving for about two hours, maybe more. Getting further and further away from the city you lived in, and into more and more unknown areas. 

Fuck! You had messed up. 

You should’ve checked your phone while you were still inside the building. You shouldn’t have been texting on the streets. You shouldn’t have let your guard down. Bucky had been saying for weeks that he suspected people had eyes on him, and consequently you because you two spent a lot of time together. 

He was right of course. He always was. You should’ve listened. You should’ve stayed at home, at least until he got back later today. 

A tear slid down your face, like it had been for the past hours. You silently cried, thinking about all the potential circumstances you could end up finding yourself in. You couldn’t even tell who were the men who kidnapped you because they all wore masks and hadn’t said a single word in the past hours. 

They were armed. And the truck seemed bulletproof. And they kept driving. Nothing said about wanting a ransom, nothing about why they had taken you, or whether they were using you as bait to get Bucky’s attention. Surely they were. 

And a few minutes later, when you heard the familiar roar of a familiar bike, you knew they had his full attention. 

Bucky was here. 

But they hadn’t noticed yet. And you didn’t want them to. So you tried to get all their attention on you by wiggling in the backseat, acting like you were trying to get more comfortable. The two armed men right in front of you just glanced at you and your tied limbs and let you be. 

You noticed the guy in the passenger seat didn’t even bother looking at you. The driver looked into the rearview mirror but quickly looked away and ahead. 

They still hadn’t heard the faint, steady roar of Bucky’s bike. 

Perfect. 

By the time Bucky would get close enough to attack, he would catch them by surprise. And it would be too late for them to react and defend themselves. 

So you kept moving, grunting in annoyance extra loudly just to mask the sound of Bucky’s bike as it got closer and closer– 

A loud gunshot exploded near you. For a moment nothing made sense. 

Then you realised the truck was no longer steady, it was tilted on one side. Bucky had shot one or more of the tires. You sighed in relief, while the men in the vehicle panicked. Muffled voices spoke all at once, one of them telling the driver to drive faster. 

Another, one of the men who was armed in front of you, lowered the window and popped his head and gun out, trying to find whoever was around but it was too late. 

You turned your head and managed to catch a glimpse of him through the rear windshield. Amongst the smoke and dirt flying, there he was. Mounted on his mean bike like a fierce general riding his beast into battle. Except this general wasn’t backed by soldiers. He was alone. 

But army or not, he was still Bucky Barnes. All black bike, black helmet, full biker gear, metal arm catching the sunlight. Guns strapped to his body. He looked like Death. 

A sob shook your body as you ducked and hid under the seats as much as you could as Bucky rain down bullets like hellfire upon the vehicle. He knew it was bulletproof, but you were certain he was doing it just to get the men to use their weapons and waste their bullets on him as fast as possible. 

The loud noises made it seem like your brain was vibrating, your heart was racing, and your ears were hurting with how loud the guns and shouts were. But Bucky was here, and all would be well now. 

A few seconds later, the truck began zig-zagging. You assumed it must be because the driver got shot. More shouts and bullets later, the truck came to a sudden stop. Like it collided with something that was strong enough to stop it even at that speed. 

But there was nothing on the empty streets you had been on. Nothing except… Bucky. 

An eerie silence followed. Then footsteps. The men in the truck had all been shot you realised upon smelling the scent of blood and gunpowder. 

You couldn’t get yourself up, not with your limbs still tied but you tried your best. And you were barely up when you heard the sound of metal literally tearing apart. You managed to peek from the back seat and Bucky had torn off one of the doors. The entire door off the side of the truck. 

You couldn’t call for him, but you kicked the back of one of the seats hard enough to get his attention. 

The moment his ocean blue eyes met your teary ones, you couldn’t help but start crying. Hot, burning tears streaming down your face as Bucky almost tore apart the entire truck to get to you. The moment he grabbed you and pulled you out into the open air, it was only his arm around you keeping you up. 

“I’ve got you,” He whispered over and over again, “You’re safe. I’ve got you, baby. It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here.” He repeated continuously as he carefully peeled the tape off your lips and cupped your face in his hands, looking at you intently to look for injuries while he wiped your tears away. “Are you hurt?” He asked, looking more panicked and worried than ever. “Baby, answer me. Did they hurt you? Inject you with anything? Touch you?” 

You shook your head, wanting nothing more than to just be able to take a deep breath, now safe in his arms. Only when you went to wrap your shaky arms around him, he stopped you. Keeping you at arms’ length and away from him. 

That worried, soft look in his eyes turned cold. Even under the afternoon sun, you shivered under his gaze. 

“What the fuck did I tell you before I left, huh?” He snarled. “I told you to stay inside, don’t leave the building. Didn’t I say that?” 

You sniffled, nodding. “I just went to my weekly class, and–,” 

He cut you off, hissing, “And look what happened!” He was almost screaming in your face, “You’re so lucky I got here in time. You’re so fucking lucky I have a tracker in that bag of yours. Otherwise it would’ve taken me days to get to you! Days!” 

You trembled, knowing he was right. Bucky dealt with dangerous people. He knew why he asked you to be cautious. 

Bucky leaned closer to you, looking down at you with no warmth. “These aren’t the villains you read about in your silly, little fucking books.” His voice sounded menacing, freezing. “These are actual, dangerous people. They wouldn’t have waited for you to charm your way out. They would’ve killed you!” He yelled. 

“I’m sorry,” You sobbed. “I was replying to your texts and–,” 

“We had a deal, didn’t we?” He grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look at him. “That when I tell you it’s not safe out there, you stay put. You stay inside and wait for me.” He growled. “You could’ve been killed today! And who would have had to live with that, huh? Who would’ve had to live with the disappointment that he couldn’t keep you safe? That he brought you into this shitty life and couldn’t even keep you alive?” He bellowed. “Who would’ve had to look your family in the eyes and tell them he lost you? Me! That’s who!” 

More tears, and a whimper escaped your lips. “I’m sorry.” You whispered. You had never seen this side of him. He let go of your face like it burned to touch you. 

He looked around, at the torn apart truck. At the bodies. The bullets on the ground. He grimaced but didn’t say anything. He reached into the truck and grabbed your things. Your bag and all that you had on you when you were taken. Your phone wasn’t here though, they must’ve thrown it out onto the streets while they took you. 

Bucky said, “We need to get out of here. Come.” 

He didn’t turn around to see if you were following, he knew you would. Once he got on his bike, he handed you his jacket and helmet. You put both on without questioning where you were going. 

Once sat behind him, your arms hesitantly around his torso, he turned to the side and said, “City’s not safe right now. We’ll spend the night at a motel nearby.” 

And that was all he said for the next few hours. 

– 

By the time you two made it to the motel – which was much, much more decent and clean than you had imagined – the sun was already setting. The place was quiet. A few voices conversing here and there, ACs humming as ACs do, cars coming in and out frequently given there was a gas station nearby, and a burger joint on the other side of the street. 

Bucky got you two a room for the night, and didn’t say a word to you as he grabbed your hand and led you to the room. 

It was a decent room. Bed, bedside tables, TV, sofas. The usual. 

You didn’t notice Bucky had packed a bag as well. You hadn’t been paying much attention anyway. He placed his much bigger bag on the bed and pulled out a few things. Some belonging to you, you noticed. Toothbrush, soaps, clean clothes. 

He handed a bunch of things to you and said, “Go shower.” He didn’t even look at you as he spoke. Guess he was still angry at you. 

You didn’t argue. You just took the things and rushed to the bathroom, locking yourself in there for a good half an hour. 

When you stepped out of the shower, feeling clean finally, you noticed Bucky wasn’t in the room. And the weather outside had changed. You could hear the faint thunder approaching. Surely by tonight there would be a storm. 

But where had Bucky gone? 

You put your clothes away in your bag, and with no phone you had no choice but to turn the TV on. You got in bed, a few minutes into watching some random documentary when Bucky walked in with food. 

You gave him a look, wondering if he would talk to you now. But all he said as he placed the bags filled with food on the bed was, “It’s none of your fancy green smoothies and healthy wraps, but it’ll have to do for now. I’m going to shower.” 

Then he disappeared. 

You were still upset, but then hunger took over and you pawed at the bags like a raccoon. You found milkshakes, fries, and burgers. And you ate while you wondered how long Bucky would keep being angry at you. 

You were halfway through your second burger when Bucky walked out of the shower. With nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. His wet, dark hair pushed back, droplets of water still dripping down his chest and abs. 

You swallowed your food before you choked, then looked away, acting as if the documentary on the TV was much more interesting to look at compared to your half naked boyfriend. 

“Are you hurt anywhere?” He asked, and you noticed he was carrying a first-aid kit in his hands. 

You shook your head. 

“Nothing? No scratches, nothing?” He asked again. 

You shrugged, “Just a small cut. It’ll heal. Nothing serious.” 

He walked over to your side of the bed, and said, “Show me.” 

You didn’t want to argue so you placed your food aside, lifted your shirt and showed him the minuscule cut on your ribs. “It’s not–,” 

But he cut you off by placing the kit down and looking for some cotton and disinfectant. 

It burned as he cleaned in and put a little bandaid over it. It hurt even more when he didn’t kiss it after like he usually does whenever he tends to your cuts and wounds. 

You didn’t say a word though. And soon, you both finished your food in silence with only the TV and the approaching storm as noise in the background. 

The thunder got louder and louder as you both got into bed. That weird silent treatment continued, and by now you were annoyed as well. You’d admit, it was your fault for being so careless when he’d told you to be cautious. But didn’t he see that you needed him now? 

Couldn’t he see you wanted to be held? And kissed? And comforted? 

You frowned in the dark. The lights from outside came through the blinds and lit the room up a little bit. As did the lightning. You were the only one tossing and turning you noticed, Bucky was asleep it seemed. 

But the thunder, the new bed, the fear and stress from earlier, it was all keeping you from falling asleep. Plus, it was a little embarrassing to admit, but you liked being held while you fell asleep. But Bucky wasn’t even talking to you, and wrapping your own arms around yourself wasn’t working. 

Another hour went by. Now the heavy rain finally came, along with a proper thunder storm. And you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You turned to face Bucky and he had his eyes shut, facing you. Not a single item of clothing on his body, except for a thin sheet covering him from the waist down. You sighed, frowning a little in annoyance still but you couldn’t help but scoot closer to him, seeking his warmth and embrace. 

First you pressed into him, to see if he would stir or wake up. He didn’t. So you got bolder and took his metal arm and placed it around you, waiting again. He didn’t move. So you went to wrap your arms around him, and once you did, you heard his sleepy voice saying, “Oh, what’s this? Now you need me?” 

You froze, trying to see if you could pretend you were asleep already. He didn’t buy it. 

“I know you’re awake.” 

You sighed. “It’s the thunder.” You said, nuzzling his warm neck. 

“And you need daddy to protect you now, little bunny?” He mocked. “But when I try to tell you what to do to keep you safe you never listen.” 

You noticed he kept his arm around you, pulling you more into him even as he chided you. “I’m so sorry, Buck. It won’t happen again.” 

He hummed. “It better not.” 

You were quiet for a second or two, then said, “You were so mean to me earlier.” 

“I have to be.” He said sternly. “You never listen. You don’t take your training seriously, you think you’re ready to fight your way out, baby, but you’re not. All I asked you to do was not to leave that apartment until I got there. But you couldn’t help but be a brat, could you?” 

You squirmed in shame. “I don’t want you to be angry with me.” 

“Well,” He said, sounding sassy as he pulled you closer, “I am pissed. Deal with it.” 

You had had enough. You slipped out of his arms, “Stay here and brood then,” You tried to get out of bed, “I’ll sleep on one of the sofas–” 

Bucky didn’t let you. A loud thunder boomed right above as he pulled you back into bed and climbed on top of you. “Stop being fucking difficult.” He hissed. 

Before you could answer, his mouth was on yours. Beard scratching your face, his long hair tickling the sides of your face. 

His kiss was rough and it hurt in the best way. Bucky pulled away for a brief moment, squeezed your cheeks so you couldn’t close your mouth. “Brat.” Glaring down at you, he spat in your mouth before kissing you again. 

Your brain felt like it was floating. His kiss was hot. And messy. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, “Needy little brat. Can’t ever do as you’re told, can you? You almost got fucking killed today, but you don’t care about that. Do you? Huh?” 

You were quiet. Your brain was too foggy with lust to function. 

“Why are you quiet? No bratty words for daddy?” He asked, sliding his rough hands up and down your parted thighs. You spread them even more the moment he touched you and he smirked when he noticed it. “Go on, tell me to stop. Tell me to let you go.” He taunted, knowing full well you would never do that. 

All you did was whimper as he touched you mindlessly, sliding his fingers up and down your slit, spreading your wetness around. 

“You’re gonna listen from now on.” He stated. “I don’t care what it takes. I’ll lock you in that apartment if I have to. But from now on, if I tell you it’s not safe out there, you do not leave that house. You hear me, princess?” 

Silence. Which earned you a slap on the thigh. You yelped in pain before glaring at him. “Fine,” You said, “Yes, I hear you. I’ll be good.” You whined. 

“Of course you will,” He said, his metal hand pinned you down on the bed by wrapping around your neck to keep you in place, while his other hand wrapped around his cock. Pumping it once, twice while holding your stare. “‘Cause I’ll have you over my knee and spank that little butt raw if you don’t.” 

You whimpered and squirmed because of how badly you needed him inside you. “I will. I’ll be so good,” You begged, “Buck, please.” 

Bucky wasted no time sliding inside of you. Giving you no time to even think, he moved in and out of you in a way that had you moaning out loud, not caring that the walls might be thin. 

The storm got louder somehow, thunder rumbling and lightning lighting up the room every now and then. The rain got heavier, silencing the rest of the world as Bucky fucked you. His body weight pressing down onto you in a way that made you never want to be anywhere else. 

It didn’t matter that you were in a small motel room, so far away from home. It didn’t matter that danger could still be lurking around. Nothing mattered, not when he held your stare as he fucked you hard and fast, barely giving you time to breathe right. 

He leaned in again, whispering against the corner of your open mouth, “Look how you behave the moment you have some cock in you. Is that all my baby wanted? Daddy’s cock? Hmm? Is this why you’ve been pouting for the past few hours?” He chuckled, spreading your thighs even more, “I’ve been mean to you, haven’t I?” He cooed, fucking into you deeper somehow. “I’ve been so mean by telling you just where you messed up and how bad things could’ve gotten if I didn’t reach you in time. I’m so mean to you, aren’t I?” He mocked you, scoffing, “Is that why your pussy is strangling my cock, baby? Because daddy’s so mean to you, is he?”

You could feel your face getting hotter as your walls clenched around him over and over again, as he sped up and pounded into you. You felt all of him stretching you out, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you until he was all you could focus on. 

“Is this what you wanted, little bunny?” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly as he bent down to bite your lower lip and tug on it. “Is this enough to make you behave from now on, baby?” 

You moaned at how perfect his warm body felt on top of yours, his weight pressing down on you. His stubble tickled your skin as he kissed your face and bit on your lip. Your legs trembled as his thrusts, relentless and unbearably good. The pressure around your lower body grew, familiar, tight and hot.

The storm, the streetlights, and every little bit of light allowed you to see how Bucky looked down at you as you tightened around his cock. He smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “I killed for you today.” He whispered, “I saved you, and this is what I get? Attitude? A bratty girl? Not even a thank you,” He scoffed, “Not even a ‘thank you for saving me daddy’, nothing.” The cold cruelty in his voice only made you clench around him harder. 

His hand squeezed your throat again, making you moan even louder. “Dirty little slut. Look at you, all cock drunk.” He scoffed, giving you yet another messy kiss. “Are you gonna be good from now on?” 

“Yes,” You whined, not recognising your voice because of how desperate you sounded. Then again, only he could make you sound this way. You whimpered, unable to say anything else because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. 

Fuck, you needed this. So much. You whined again when his hand let go of your throat, fingers trailing down your squirming body until his metal fingers found your clit, toying with it while he pounded into you mercilessly. 

“Yeah?” He stared deep into your eyes as he spoke. “You’re gonna be my good girl and listen to me?” 

You nodded, tears streaming down your face again. The exhaustion from earlier, the day you had survived. It was all too much. “Please…” You whimpered, squirming and unable to hold back anymore. You needed to come so bad. Your thoughts were a mess. 

“Good girl.” 

And you couldn’t hold back anymore. You came undone all around him. Moaning, your back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock, tightening around him even harder than earlier. 

Bucky kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under him. “That’s it, babygirl. Come for daddy.” 

You could hear the untamed hunger in his deep, growly voice. He groaned until he came undone as well. You whined and whimpered as you felt him filling you up, his thrusts slowing down, his cum dripping down your inner thighs. 

—

You vaguely remember his cleaning the two of you. He let you rest for a minute, but then it seemed like he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. So he flipped you around, straddled you and began massaging your worn out body. 

He rubbed his rough hands all over your back, down your hips, and thighs. It was quiet for a while. Just the rain, the thunder, and the sound of Bucky breathing. 

Then you heard his gentle voice. “I can’t lose you. Not you.” He whispered, like he was saying it to himself, “Not you, baby.” 

Your heart throbbed and pinched.  

He leaned down and kissed the back of your neck, your shoulders, down your spine, all while massaging your body. “I don’t like being mean to you.” He kissed his way up again, nuzzling your ear and whispering, “Earlier today,” He spoke softly, “When I watched the tracker show me how fast you were getting further and further away, thinking about how they must’ve grabbed you. How easily, how quickly they took you, I–,” His voice cracked. 

You couldn’t help the tears anymore, “I’m sorry.” You tried to turn over and face him but he gently pushed you back down on the bed. 

“Shh,” He shut you up. “Just let me take care of you.” His hands touched you everywhere. Soft touches soothing the spots he’d grabbed harshly earlier. “You scared me, baby.” He kissed around the cut on your side. “For a moment I thought I’d never see you again.” 

“I’ll be good, I promise.” You sniffled, trying to look at him over your shoulder. “I’ll train harder, I’ll be better. I won’t let my guard down, ever.” 

He leaned in and kissed your lips gently. “You’re perfect.” He stated. “We’ll work on training you better. We’ll be okay. Don’t worry baby, I’ve got you. Always.” 

You gave him a teary smile and sheepishly said, “Thank you for saving me.” 

Bucky laughed softly, nuzzling your neck again, kissing your skin like he couldn’t get enough. “I would burn this entire world down if anyone tries to take you from me again.” 

You laid your head back down on the pillow, laughing softly. Thinking he was joking. 

He wasn’t.