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bucks-babe · 7 months ago

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How Can I Forget You?

Follow my sideblog @bucks-babesideblog for updates on when I post

Pairing: Bucky x reader x Steve, Stucky x reader, Stucky

Summary: I literally don’t know how to summarize this. 40’s Bucky and Steve go to war, then you know what happens to them, Ladybird is left in the 40’s. Steve and Bucky are in the future. Will they get their Ladybird back?

Warnings: Angst (a lot of it), fluff, poly relationship, pre serum Steve, 40’s Bucky and Steve, 21st century!Bucky and Steve, some gay sex because it was getting too sad (anal fingering, anal, grinding naked), Peggy was never with Steve, implied suicide by alcohol, death of the reader in the 40’s, pet names (darling, ladybird, dumpling), crying, Jewish!Bucky, nostalgia, time jumps, happy ending because who do you think I am, I am not paying for anyone's therapy just so you know

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: There is no mention of the reader's body type nor race. Part of this fic does take place in the 40's, but I wanted to have a blank reader so that readers from any race can imagine themselves as Ladybird. There is no mention of period related homophobia because this shit was already too damn sad. If I missed any warnings, please let me know becuase I know that this fic is angsty and I want to make sure that everyone knows what they are getting into. Thanks to @buckys-wintersoldier for sacrificing her mental health for this fic 🤘

“Stevie, have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?” Steve blushes and hides his face in Bucky’s chest, breathing in his woodsy scent. “Don’t hide from me, punk, can’t see those pretty eyes anymore.” Running his fingers through Steve’s soft hair and trailing his hand down to the back of the smaller man’s neck, he gently brings his head back up, appreciating the soft, pink glow on his lover’s cheeks.

“Buck,” Steve trails off, not able to form a complete sentence when Bucky is looking at him like this - like he is gorgeous and not scrawny or undesirable. He doesn’t fight when Bucky brings their lips together, moaning at the taste of Bucky’s last cigarette. His eyes flutter as they pull away, both of their pupils blown, lips swollen and cheeks red. “You know, smoking is bad for you.”

Bucky grabs Steve and lays down on the couch, Steve resting between his legs. “I’m going to live until I’m 100, Stevie, smoking or not. You, my dear, are the one we need to worry about.”

“Like hell, you’re going to live that long with those habits. I’m healthy, it’s the doctors that keep telling me I’m not fit to join the army.” Bucky sighs. No matter how much he tries to stop Steve from enlisting, it never works. Not even their Ladybird can convince him.

“Stevie, please. I don’t want to hear anymore talk about this. Not today.” It’s their Ladybird that speaks, voice thick with emotion, yet stern. Neither of her boys would disobey her. She sets the tray with their sandwiches down and quickly leaves the room, palms frantically trying to smooth her dress down, pressing wrinkles that don’t exist.

Today was the day that Bucky had to leave. He didn’t enlist, not when his Ladybird wanted him at home, safe with her and Steve. She was terrified that he wouldn’t come home, leaving her and Steve behind.

But Steve was more stubborn than his man, not accepting staying at home when the men of his country are risking their lives. He needed to protect his country. “Stay here, dumpling.” Leaving a kiss on his forehead, Bucky follows Ladybird into the kitchen.

Two strong arms wrap around her waist and the tears she was desperate to hold in, cascade down her cheeks, ruining the makeup she spent so much time on. She was trying to be strong for him, support him before sending him off, but it was too much. Knowing that he could be killed at any moment, and these could be her final memories of him, was too overwhelming.

“I know, Ladybird, I know. I promise you that I’ll come home, okay? I can’t leave my best girl and guy alone.” She turns in his arms and his calloused palms rest on her cheeks, thumbs wiping away the stream of mascara running down her face.

“Steve, he, he can’t enlist, Buck. He just can’t. How am I supposed to stay here knowing that the loves of my life are out there, getting shot at, bombs going off, huh?” Steve sneaks in, snaking his arms around her waist.

“For you, Ladybird, I won’t. I’ll wait here with you, send Bucky letters, keep you safe, okay?” She knew it was a lie; Steve could never lie, but she chose to believe him in that moment. Maybe for her own sanity, or maybe just to savor the last moments she would ever get to spend with her men.

She was Bucky off, waving to him when he boarded the train, but when Steve left the house for errands she knew where he was going - she never saw him again, but she knew it was for his love for her and Bucky. She didn’t blame him.

***

When Steve woke up from the ice, the first thing he did was see if his Ladybird was still alive. From the moment he got the serum, he regretted lying to her. He knew when he looked in her eyes, she knew what he was going to do; she accepted his choice. It was who he was and she wouldn’t dream of him being anything else.

He cried that night, when Fury gave him the documents he so graciously printed from Google. Ladybird died only a few years after he went on ice. She never moved on. They said it was a broken heart, but the 40’s would never report a woman drinking herself to death, wallowing in the sorrow of lost love.

It was his fault. Maybe she could have healed from the loss of Bucky if he was there. It would never take away the pain, but she would have one of them, but he left her behind. He would visit her grave daily; her body six feet below him, wearing the dog tags of her lovers.

The pain was eased when he found Bucky. They had each other. Even when he couldn’t remember much, Bucky remembered his Ladybird. Steve wishes he could forget the day he had to tell the man he loved that their girl was dead.

“I still want to be with you, Steve.” It took a while before Bucky was stable enough to choose to love again, but it was never a hard decision. The love for Steve too much to ignore.

Their first time was much different from the 40’s. They both changed so much - Steve more so than Bucky. They couldn’t get each other naked fast enough, kisses and loving touches scattered throughout.

Bucky didn’t feel embarrassed by his arm, not when Steve’s eyes were filled with so much love and lust. Bucky had to look away, his eyes landing on his boyfriend’s cock. “Oh my god, Steve!” He didn’t mean to gawk but he couldn’t help it. Steve went from slightly below average to very much above it. Long and thick, veins pulsing through his cock, supplying enough blood to keep his large erection up.

“What? Oh.” Steve’s signature blush crept up his cheeks just like it used to. Even though his body changed so dramatically, he was still the same boy from Brooklyn Bucky fell in love with. “You’re bigger too, Buck.” Steve shied away from Bucky’s gaze, worried about how Bucky’s cock was going to fit inside of him.

“It hasn’t changed that much, dumpling.” It was almost true. Bucky was always above average - maybe seven inches. He was always thick, but now? His cock looked like it doubled in thickness, and around an inch added to his length.

“Yeah, right.” Bucky beamed at Steve as he became more comfortable under Bucky’s gaze.

“Well, how about we compare sizes then?” They both groan at the first contact in years, dicks pressed against each other. “Won’t you look at that, you’re bigger than me, dumpling.” Steve’s face scrunched in confusion, trying to focus through the haze of pleasure. There was no way that he was bigger than Bucky.

Nonetheless, Steve looks down, almost cumming at the sight of his lover’s cock leaking onto his. His eyes widened; he was bigger than Bucky. It was only by an inch, even with the serum thickening his cock, Bucky was still much thicker. “Good boy, see how pretty your cock is? Fuck, missed you so much.”

Bucky groans in between words as he grinds against Steve, cock pushed harder against his. Steve’s hands find the sides of Bucky’s face, pulling him down in a heated kiss while ropes of his cum shoot out onto both of their stomachs and chests. Bucky follows right after, not able to handle the pleasure the simple grind of their hips brings him as they both share their first orgasm since the 40’s.

He collapses on Steve’s chest while they both catch their breath. “Darling, I need your cock in me. Need to feel how you stretch me out.” Bucky’s cock instantly hardens.

“Fuck, dumpling, we don’t have lube.” Even in his lust filled state, Bucky knows that going any further would hurt.

“Don’t need it. Look at all our cum.” Bucky looks down and whimpers. The serum really did a number on them. His first orgasm in 80 years was a lot. The mixture of their cum was dripping down Steve’s sides and leaking down Bucky’s chest. He quickly dips down to get a mouthful of their cum, moaning as he shares it with Steve. “You taste just as good as I remember, Buck.”

Bucky scoops a generous amount onto two of his fingers while Steve eagerly spreads his legs, presenting his tight hole to his partner. At this moment, it’s just the two of them. The pain of their Ladybird is gone, if only momentarily.

The moan that leaves Steve’s lips as Bucky’s first finger breeches his hole is almost enough to have him cumming untouched. He doesn’t know how long he stretches Steve out for, but it was enough time to have Steve cumming on his chest again, giving Bucky more lube to use.

“Ready, dumpling? Ready for your sergeant’s cock?” Steve only moans, frantically nodding his head. No one would have thought that the tough captain was so submissive in bed. Bucky strokes his cock with Steve’s spend a few times before lining up with his stretched out hole.

He meets little resistance as his tip slips in. “Fuck, Steve. Think you’re even fucking tighter.” He has to close his eyes, balls pulsing and pulling up already. Steve’s tight ass ready to suck all of his cum out.

“Uh, uh, just bigger. So much bigger.” Steve’s mind was empty, only wanting his ass full. He cries when Bucky hikes his legs up, wanting to be as close as possible. “Wait, please.” Bucky immediately eases his cock out, knowing that he’s a lot bigger to take now. After a few minutes, Steve’s breath evens out and his eyes lock with Bucky’s, nodding at his lover.

As gently as he can, Bucky slides back inside his ass, slowly feeding Steve inch after inch. “How full are you, Stevie?” It wasn’t smug; Bucky needed to know that Steve was okay. Leaning down, Bucky presses his forehead against Steve’s, staring into his eyes. Tears fall from both of their eyes, connected so intimately again.

“So full, Buck.” He leans up to capture Bucky’s lips in a kiss, neither able to think straight, let alone kiss properly.

“I love you so fucking much, dumpling.” Steve cries out, hips jerking in an attempt to take more of his sergeant’s dick. As Bucky’s hips rest against Steve’s center, they both cum, chanting each other’s name like a mantra, whispers of their love passed back and forth. Neither of them can stop, trying to make up for all the years spent apart. All the years each spent mourning the loss of the other.

By the end of the night, they’re both spent. Cuddled in each other’s arms, Bucky is the first to break the silence. “Is it just me, or does this almost feel wrong without Ladybird?”

“It does, but she wouldn’t want us to stop loving each other.” Bucky doesn’t respond, caught up in his own mind. The pain from losing their Ladybird would never go away and they both knew that.

***

“Dumpling, you should stay there.” It’s said so quietly that if Steve wasn’t a super soldier he wouldn’t have heard him.

“Excuse me?” Steve pulls away, quickly sitting up in the bed.

“You should stay with her. You deserve it - she deserves it.” Bucky hangs his head, not able to look Steve in the eyes.

“And you don’t?”

“No. After all I’ve done, I’d only taint her. She doesn’t deserve that.” It was a decision that Bucky thought long and hard about.

“You think she would believe that? That I would? I just lost you, Buck and you’re asking me to do it again.” Steve stands and paces around the room, not able to comprehend what his boyfriend was saying.

“Think about it, Stevie. At least she would have one of us. You know what happened when she found out we both were ‘dead.’”

“Drop it, okay?” And Bucky did, but he planted the seed inside Steve’s mind.

***

“I’ll never stop loving you, Darling.” Bucky nodded, failing to hold in his tears, knowing that this was the last time he was going to see his best guy.

“Take care of her for me, yeah?”

“You know I will.” He grabs Bucky’s face, sharing their last kiss, tears mixing together. “And don’t do anything stupid until I get back.” His voice cracks, saying his final goodbye.

Bucky swallows hard. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” He caresses Steve’s cheek once more and pats it, letting his hand fall down. They look at each other in silence, burning this memory into their brains.

He can’t bear to look at Bucky when he gets on the pad.

***

Steve’s throat is tight as he looks at his old brownstone. His Ladybird is right behind the door, having no idea who is outside. He picks up the spare key - exactly where it always was.

He has to close his eyes, taking in the familiar scent of the home he shared with his two loves. Stepping over the threshold, he sees her and his breath gets caught in his throat. “Ladybird?” He doesn’t even recognize his own voice, so unsure and in disbelief of what he was seeing.

Her head whips around; the dish she was washing shatters as it hits the ground. “Stevie?” His feet are glued to the ground, back hitting the closed door as he tries not to fall to his knees. “Is it really you?” Unlike him, Ladybird sprints to him, her dress fluttering at the speed she moves, the dog tags of her lovers jiggle with every step.

She almost tackles him to the ground, arms intertwined around his neck, legs clutching his waist. He catches her easily, his own arms squeezing her to his chest. Both of their sobs mix together as Steve drops down on the couch, legs no longer able to hold him up. “I thought you were dead. They send soldiers here and everything.” Steve couldn’t form an explanation, too caught up in her entire being.

He can only pull her into a kiss. It was messy, full of tears and snot, but neither of them cared. She didn’t know how long he waited for this moment. They held each other for hours, crying and kissing. Eventually, she fell asleep in his arms.

Steve didn’t have it in him to put her down as he went around the house. Everything was just as he remembered. The kitchen table, engraved with all their initials, still had three chairs around it, each one in different states of ruin - Bucky always flopped in his chair leaving the legs wobbly. Steve’s favorite mug sat on the lowest shelf, right where pre-serum Steve could reach, even though Bucky loved to put it up higher so that Steve had to ask for his help.

The living room still held the old rickie bookshelf that Ladybird insisted that she could put together by herself, no matter how many times her men offered help. Upon it was Bucky’s first edition copy of The Hobbit. He and Ladybird would always make fun of him for how much time, money, and effort he spent just to get that book - Steve placed it in a box along with the recipes from Mrs. Barnes.

The bedroom made his breath hitch, his arms instinctively holding Ladybird closer. His favorite chair, ripped in multiple spots, sat in the corner of the room, right by the window. Right next to it was his stand where his old sketchbook sat untouched - he put that in the box too. Bucky’s side of the closet hung his clothes, neatly arranged in order of his favorites, while Steve’s clothes lay on the ground in a pile, always too lazy to fold them.

The top left dresser draw held the photo album Ladybird made them for Christmas/Hanukkah - that went in the box. Ladybird’s jewelry box had a necklace with the Star of David that she saved for to get Bucky on his birthday. Bucky gave it back to her before he left for safekeeping - in the box it went. On top of the dresser were all the letters she sent to Bucky and Steve, along with the letters they sent her. The army gave them back to her with their dog tags - Steve made sure to not damage them as they were placed in the box.

***

The team shared gasps and whispers between themselves as Steve reappeared with a woman in one arm and a small box in the other. He whispers something in her ear before pointing in the distance.

A gorgeous smile graces her lips as her eyes meet Steve’s target. She doesn’t hesitate to sprint across the grass, bare feet and ignoring all of the Avengers. Bucky doesn’t hear the beat of her steps, overwhelmed at the loss of both of his partners.

He doesn’t know what hit him as he falls to the ground. Kisses are placed all over his face. For a second, he thinks that he’s dreaming because he would know her smell anywhere, the feeling of her lips ingrained in his mind. But even in his dreams, he couldn’t hear her voice, always muffled and distant, but it was clear as day as he lay on the soft ground.

“Bucky!” He has to grab her face to stop her assault, pulling her back far enough to confirm that it was real, that his Ladybird was in his arms.

“Bird? Oh my god.” He pulls her back down, showering her with affection, practically rolling them around in the grass, not caring about the audience that slowly surrounded them. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Her tears come back once again. His hair was longer, worry lines sprinkled around his face, cool metal pressed against her right cheek, his right hand more callused than before. Steve told her a bit about what happened, about how Bucky lost his arm, how insecure he felt because of it.

Without pause, she tilts her head, soft lips placed delicately on his metal palm. “You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.” Stuck in their own little bubble, they don’t notice Steve laying beside them until his arms wrap around them both.

With one look he gets the rest of the Avengers to leave them in peace. Unlike his past self, Steve could lie when he needed to. He knew that Bucky wouldn’t have let him go to return the stones if he knew Steve wasn’t going to stay. Laying a kiss to Bucky’s forehead, Steve takes in the sight before him, all of them together at last.

“Bucky, you were right. I did take all the stupid with me.” Bucky’s tear streaked face looks over at his partner.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, dumpling.” For the first time since before the war, all three of them felt at peace, finally in each other’s arms again. It may have taken 80 some years, but none of them would change a thing if there was even the smallest chance that they wouldn’t end up together.

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thatboisus · 5 months ago

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reading a good ass fanfic up until it said something that just makes you want to stop reading

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mintyys-blog · 18 days ago

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avengers x nurse! reader: Nurse Knows Best

WARNINGS: none

The Avengers were like a group of overgrown kids who happened to have superpowers, and as their designated nurse, it was your job to keep them in one piece—not that they ever made it easy for you.

You’d worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. long enough to know that most agents had a tendency to push themselves too hard, but the Avengers? They were on a whole other level. It didn’t matter if they had a broken rib, a twisted ankle, or a mild concussion; they’d brush it off like it was nothing. And every time, you were there to scold them.

The med bay was bustling after a mission gone sideways. You stood with your hands on your hips, surveying the chaos as various members of the team wandered in, clearly worse for wear.

“Okay,” you said loudly, clapping your hands to get their attention. “Everyone who’s injured, sit down and let me take a look at you. No exceptions.”

Tony Stark was the first to protest, of course. “I’m fine, Nurse Killjoy. It’s just a scratch.”

“A scratch?” You raised an eyebrow, pointing at the deep gash on his arm that was still bleeding. “Sit. Now.”

Tony rolled his eyes but obeyed, muttering under his breath about bossy nurses.

Next up was Clint, who was cradling his wrist. “I don’t need—”

“Don’t even start, Barton. Sit.”

He sighed dramatically but plopped down in the nearest chair.

Steve Rogers walked in next, limping slightly but trying to hide it. You immediately spotted the blood seeping through his suit at his side.

“Captain Rogers,” you said, narrowing your eyes.

“I’m fine,” he said automatically, his voice calm and reassuring.

“Uh-huh. And that’s why you’re leaking blood all over my floor.”

Steve looked down, as if noticing the injury for the first time. “It’s not that bad.”

“Sit down before I make you,” you said firmly, pointing to an empty bed.

His lips twitched like he wanted to argue, but he gave in, sitting with a sheepish smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

Natasha was the only one who didn’t fight you. She sat quietly on the edge of a cot, holding a cold pack to her shoulder.

“Thank you for not arguing,” you said as you passed by.

She smirked. “Why would I? You’re the only one here who scares Steve.”

“Nat!” Steve protested from his bed.

Natasha just laughed, winking at you.

Bruce Banner was next, looking drained but otherwise uninjured. You handed him a bottle of water and told him to sit and rest, which he did without complaint.

“Where’s Thor?” you asked.

Bruce sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Last I saw, he was outside arguing with some agents about carrying Mjölnir into the med bay.”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Of course he is.”

As if on cue, Thor burst through the doors, looking as proud as ever despite the torn sleeve of his armor revealing a nasty gash on his bicep. Mjölnir dangled from his hand as if it were a paperweight.

“Lady Y/N!” Thor greeted you with his usual booming enthusiasm. “Fear not, for I am unscathed!”

You raised an eyebrow, gesturing to his arm. “And what’s that?”

Thor glanced at the wound as if noticing it for the first time. “A mere trifle! This is nothing for the God of Thunder.”

“Thor, sit down before you bleed all over my med bay,” you said, pointing to an open chair.

“But—”

“Now.”

Thor blinked, clearly unused to being bossed around, but when Natasha smirked at him from her cot, he sighed dramatically and sat down. “Very well, Lady Y/N. I shall allow you to tend to this insignificant injury.”

By the time everyone was settled and you’d cleaned, stitched, or bandaged them up, you were exhausted. But that didn’t stop you from giving them your usual lecture.

“You all need to start taking better care of yourselves,” you said, crossing your arms as you stood in the middle of the room. “You’re not invincible, no matter how much you act like it.”

“Technically, I kind of am,” Tony said, waving his hand. “You know, with the suit and all.”

You shot him a glare. “Even you, Stark. You have to rest and recover like everyone else.”

“I do rest,” Tony said defensively.

“Falling asleep at your desk doesn’t count.”

Natasha chuckled quietly while Steve looked at you with an apologetic smile. “You’re right,” he said, surprising everyone by agreeing. “We’ll do better.”

“Speak for yourself,” Clint muttered, earning a sharp look from you.

“You will do better,” you said, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Once the med bay had cleared out and everyone was patched up, Steve lingered behind, watching as you cleaned up your supplies.

“You’re good at what you do,” he said, his voice warm.

You glanced at him, softening slightly. “Thanks. Someone has to keep you all alive.”

He chuckled, leaning against the counter. “We don’t make it easy, do we?”

“No, you don’t,” you said with a smile. “But I guess I can’t blame you. You’re trying to save the world, after all.”

Steve tilted his head, studying you. “Still, we owe you a lot. I don’t think we say that enough.”

Your cheeks warmed at his sincerity. “You just did, so… thank you.”

He gave you a small nod before turning to leave, but not before adding, “Don’t work too hard, Nurse Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Right back at you, Captain.”

A few days later, they were off on another mission. When they returned, battered but victorious, you were there, hands on your hips and ready to scold them all over again.

But this time, as they filed into the med bay, Steve caught your eye and gave you a sheepish smile.

“We tried to take it easy,” he said.

You sighed, shaking your head with a small laugh. “Sure you did.”

And despite their stubbornness, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride for being the one to keep this chaotic, mismatched family in one piece.

The Avengers were many things—heroes, legends, earth’s mightiest—but they were also, without a doubt, the biggest pains in your life. While you loved them (in a professional sense, you often reminded yourself), there were days when they seemed hell-bent on driving you to the brink of insanity.

It started innocently enough. You’d handed Clint an ice pack for his sprained wrist, warning him to use it and not to get into any trouble while waiting for you to finish with Tony.

Apparently, “trouble” was Clint’s middle name.

By the time you turned around, he was using the ice pack as a projectile, aiming it at Thor’s head.

“Barton!” you shouted, but it was too late.

Thor caught the ice pack midair and grinned like a child who’d just been handed a toy. “A fine game, indeed!”

Before you knew it, Thor had launched it back at Clint, narrowly missing your head in the process.

“Guys, stop—”

Steve walked in at the worst possible moment, only to get hit square in the chest by the ice pack. He froze, blinking in confusion, before turning his disapproving gaze on Clint.

“It wasn’t me!” Clint said, pointing at Thor.

“I’m ending this now!” you barked, snatching the ice pack off the floor and holding it like a grenade.

Everyone froze, the room dead silent.

“Good,” you said, your tone clipped. “Now, sit down, or I swear I’ll superglue all of you to the med bay chairs.”

Tony Stark’s caffeine addiction was well-documented. He was rarely seen without a coffee cup in hand, and he had a bad habit of wandering into your office to steal your coffee whenever his ran out.

You’d warned him repeatedly. But today was the day you finally snapped.

“Tony, I swear to everything holy, if you take my coffee one more time—”

“I’m not taking it,” Tony interrupted, already mid-sip.

You glared at him, debating whether it was worth the potential HR complaint to tackle him. “That’s literally my mug, Stark.”

“Is it, though?” he quipped, holding it up to inspect the “World’s Okayest Nurse” lettering you’d bought as a joke.

“Yes, it is!”

Natasha strolled in, took one look at your murderous expression, and immediately turned on her heel. “Nope. Not my problem.”

Later that day, you found a brand-new espresso machine in your office with a note that read, “Bribes work, right? - T”

You should’ve known better than to challenge Thor, but you were running on two hours of sleep, and logic had abandoned you.

“Thor, please stop leaving Mjölnir on the exam tables,” you said for the third time that day. “I can’t move it, and I’m not calling you every five minutes to come and get it.”

“It is perfectly safe where it lies,” Thor said proudly, arms crossed.

“It’s not safe for me,” you shot back. “I’m not worthy, remember?”

Thor grinned. “Perhaps you underestimate yourself, Lady Y/N. You should try lifting it.”

Your eye twitched. “Thor, I don’t have time for this.”

He ignored you, stepping back and gesturing dramatically. “Go on. Prove yourself worthy.”

With a deep sigh, you grabbed the handle and pulled with all your might. Nothing happened, of course.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, grabbing a clipboard and swatting his arm with it.

Thor just laughed, retrieving Mjölnir like it weighed nothing and promising, “I shall endeavor to do better.”

He didn’t.

Bucky had a habit of sneaking up on people, but today, he outdid himself.

You were focused on updating patient files when a voice spoke from directly behind you:

“Whatcha doing?”

You screamed loud enough to send papers flying everywhere.

“BUCKY!”

“Sorry,” he said, though he didn’t sound remotely sorry. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Like hell you didn’t!” you snapped, clutching your chest. “Do you even know how jumpy I am?”

“Natasha bet me ten bucks I couldn’t make you scream,” he admitted with a shrug.

From the hallway, Natasha’s voice called out, “Worth every penny!”

The final straw came when you found Steve Rogers—America’s golden boy—eating chocolate pudding out of a biohazard container in the lab.

“Steve. What are you doing?” you asked, your voice unnervingly calm.

He froze, spoon halfway to his mouth. “Uh… eating pudding?”

“In a biohazard container?”

Steve frowned, staring at the container like it had betrayed him. “It was in the fridge. I thought it was clean.”

You closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Steve, that’s for medical samples. It literally says ��Biohazard’ on the side.”

He looked so horrified and embarrassed that you almost felt bad for yelling at him. Almost.

“I… should probably stop eating this,” he said quietly, setting the container down.

“Ya think?” you muttered.

By the end of the week, you were exhausted. You collapsed into your chair in the break room, head in your hands, wondering how you were still sane.

Natasha walked in, holding a cup of coffee. She placed it in front of you without a word.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, sipping it gratefully.

“Don’t let them get to you,” she said with a smirk. “They’re idiots, but they’re our idiots.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “That’s the only reason I haven’t quit yet.”

From the hallway, you heard Tony shout, “Who used my arc reactor as a paperweight?”

You groaned, already bracing yourself for the next round of chaos.

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florabellalove · 9 months ago

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LET ME SPEAK MY TRUTH 🦢🫶🏼

sometimes I just want to read a reverse comfort fic about some big burly character absolutely breaking down, call it a saviour kink or whatever but there seems to be an absence in this world

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writersblockedx · 29 days ago

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Wedded Under War

You can now read Part Two Here

Pairing - Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, slight Bestfriend!Steve Rodgers x Reader Summary - New York is plagued by a war between the White Wolves and SHIELD. Your older brother comes up with a solution: Wed you to their leader, Bucky Barnes. Warnings - Violence, arranged marriage Words - 2K

Masterlist

The first time you met James Buchanan Barnes, it was tainted in blood. It was a plan, to gather information without the man having any idea what he was doing, nor who he was talking to. Steve Rodgers and your older brother, Tony, had hatched the plan when you just turned twenty-one. For you to waltz in there, flirt enough and get him drunk enough that his tongue would slip. It should have been easy. In and out without the need for violence. Something so sparse in your line of work.

Natasha had picked out a dress for you. One that matched the formality of your old prom dress. Silk and tight, with barely any room for you to breathe. Tucked underneath, in case of emergency, were your weapons: A pistol, and a couple of knives. "Just in case." Natasha had assured as she strapped the last switchblade around your ankle.

And like that, you slipped out from the van where Steve and Natasha would be monitoring you. Flashing some fake confidence as you wandered towards a cocktail bar you had never stepped foot in before. It was for the rich kids of New York. The trust fund babies, the future lawyers and, most importantly, Bucky Barnes' favourite spot after a long week of causing havoc.

You ignored the rest of the crowd, heading towards the marble bar where you ordered a martini for the nerves. You cared little for what you were doing, your intention more than anything was to impress your brother in hopes of gaining more involvement with the job. If that meant looking pretty and flirting aimlessly with Bucky Barnes then so be it.

The moment your lips hit the drink, your eyes finally scanned the room. You gazed across the drunken Ivy League types who were trying to impress people with their knowledge of the stock market. It didn't take long to find the man who didn't fit with the rest of the crowd: nestled in the corner, in a leather booth seated the leader of the White Wolves. He wore a clean shirt and blazer, ensuring you could still see his bulging biceps through the material.

Within seconds, his eyes finally caught your obvious flirty gaze. It was a silent invitation for him to come over and join you. He was desperate, hungry from the get-go. He whispered something in his right man's ear before standing and waltzing over to you like he owned the place - which he probably actually did. "What are you drinking?" He questioned, smoothly.

You forced a smirk to your lips, "Why?" Your head tilted. "You buying?"

"Only if you say please." Had he been any other man, had this not been the job, you might have smacked him there and then.

Instead, you kept your expression stable and said, "I'll have a martini, please."

He nodded and returned his attention to the bartender, "An old fashioned and a martini." He requested. When the bartender had his back turned, Bucky gazed back at the pretty thing of interest. "I've never seen you here before."

"I'm meeting a friend." You lied before staring down at your watch. "At least I'm meant to be, they're late."

"Well, if you don't mind, I can keep you company." He didn't wait for your answer before slipping into the bar stool beside you.

"Of course, I don't."

Two drinks landed in front of you. Bucky thanked the man and tipped him ten times the amount any normal person would. But Bucky Barnes wasn't just anyone. He was rich with dirty money and had half of New York at his beck and call. "Cheers," He raised his glass, clinking it with your own.

Your brother always taught you to be careful around your drinks. He showed you how easy the enemies of the job could slip something in, to take advantage. And that worry laid heavy on your mind as you watched Bucky take his first sip. You barely let your lips touch the glass before placing it back on the bar. "So what do I call you?"

Another thing Tony had taught you was to never give your real name. "Natalie." Was the first thing you thought of; the same alias Natasha used. "And you?"

Bucky wasn't quite as smart. Or maybe he was just egotistical and liked the idea of the pretty girl calling his name. "Bucky." He nodded.

Your eyes flickered back over to his men who were still situated in the booth, throwing back neat whisky like it went down the same as water. They wouldn't be able to do much in that state. "You sure your friends don't mind you spending your time over here with me?" You queried.

Bucky smiled at the thought, "Please, they're too busy fighting over what gun has the best range." You doubted that was a lie. Maybe most other girls would have thought so, some maybe even laughed, but not you. "We can always join them if you'd like."

At that, you jumped, your hand practically crawling at his forearm for him to stay. "No," You spoke, almost too stern. "I like being here." You plastered that smirk back onto your face.

Bucky sank into his seat, not hiding the way his eyes followed your nails toward your body in that dress. "Good," He whispered.

You slowly let your hand slide away from his skin, "So what is that you do? Other than argue over other weapons?" You let the conversation change to something you might be able to get information on.

"Business."

"A bit vague, isn't it?" You jabbed for him to speak more. But, the best way to do that, was to put him at ease. For him to be far more interested in something else other than what he was saying. So your hand returned to his forearm, gently caressing against his skin. "I mean, you look like you must do something important." You smiled his way, not letting your eyes drop from his body.

"Importing." He finally answered and you realised you were getting somewhere.

So you let your hand slowly drag down his biceps which, while any other girl might have found hot, you were already calculating how hard his punch would hit against your face. "Hm, and what is it you import?" You questioned.

To your expectation, he was watching your movement carefully, a smirk plastered at his lips. "You ask a lot of questions."

You shrugged, moving your hand further and further down till it reached his finger tips, grazing across them. "You seem like an interesting man." You muttered.

"Maybe I want to know about you." He returned, leaning forward enough to put a hand to your thigh. But rather than finding your skin, his fingers hit something hard and metallic. The very weapon you had there, just in case. Your hand fell from his entirely, feeling his body tense at the touch of betrayal. You didn't move. "You should have known better than to come into my bar, in my city, with a silly little weapon like that."

He was still. The man made no move for his own weapon that you were certain he was hiding under his blazer jacket. So, instead, you moved first. Your hand reached out, gripping at his brunette locks before forcing his head onto the marble bar side. A clash sounded at the impact. Enough to alert the rest of the customers who started screeching for help.

You rushed backwards, hand gripping at the gun that had outed you. Bucky stood from the bar stool, his hand wiping away at the blood which dripped from his forehead. Anger seethed in his pupils. Enough to make you search for cover as you caught the way his hand reached into his jacket pocket as you expected. "Move!" You ordered a group of college students.

Bullets whipped passed your head as you watched the rest of Bucky's men join in. Luckily, all the neat whiskeys had made their aim lazy. In the nick of time, you threw a table over onto its side and you covered your body against it, feeling every bullet which hit the wooden surface. The only thing protecting you from life and death.

Your hand pressed against the earpiece Natasha had given you, "Hey, you guys hearing this?"

"What the hell did you do?" The woman chimed in first as you leaned slightly over the top of the table to get a shot. One of which you assumed you missed as the bullets continued.

"Are you okay?" Asked Steve.

"Just one of you get in here please!" You begged.

You didn't understand the reply, but you liked to assume one of your friends were on their way. By now, most of the other customers had rushed out from the bar, the staff hidden in the back as the firing continued until the men started to run out of bullets. Despite their array of weapons, they weren't prepared for one girl to ruin their Friday night drinks. So without any extra ammo, they were left with one option: hand-to-hand combat.

When the firing stopped, your head looked above the wood once again, watching as Rumlow handed Barnes one of his daggers. You stood, kicking the table back in the way of Barnes. You raised your gun, an easy shot if you dared to take it. "You, silly little girl." Bucky spat.

Your head tilted at him and the rest of the men who had no way of hurting her anymore. Not when she was the only one with any ammo left. "Really? Looks to me that I'm the one with the upper hand." You pointed out.

The front door to the bar swung open. Out of instinct, they each held up their guns, without the ability to shoot at the red-headed Russian. "Let's go!" She ordered.

You gave Bucky one last victory glance before running back over to Natasha and exiting the bar unscathed. It had certainly been one way to welcome you to the job.

---

"This has got to be a fucking joke?"

The stern expressions that faced you suggested they were all in fact serious. After years of war and bloodshed, this was their only solution for peace. "You want me- me to marry Barnes? That's-" You laughed at the idea of a domestic life alongside Bucky Barnes. It was such a stupid idea, you seriously couldn't imagine it. "That's obscene."

"It's tactical." Natasha offered.

To which, you gazed over at her as she stood beside the desk where Tony sat. His office was always filled by henchmen and paperwork. "Why aren't you the one marrying him then? Why do I get the short straw?"

"Because I'm not a Stark." She made a good point; a Stark marrying a Barnes would be more of a statement. The two names which battled over New York coming together through a marriage.

"It's the only way to keep everyone safe." Tony reasoned, making your eyes roll.

You scoffed, "Safe? Are you kidding me?" You couldn't image anything more dangerous than sleeping beside Bucky Barnes. "I would rather have that man stab me through the heart than put a flashy ring on his finger and call him mine!"

Steve, who had been quiet ever since the news dropped, finally met your eyes. "You don't have a choice."

Your breath fell hot when it left your tongue. These people, your family, your closest friends, suddenly taking control of your life for the sake of business. With no thought on how you would take it. Even now, despite your obvious distaste for the idea, they were pushing it. So it should have been expected when you faced the blonde man only to raise your hand, letting a slap fall firm against his cheek.

You hated the sting on your palm as you faced Steve's huff as he settled in the pain. But maybe it was deserved. To have been used for years to do nothing but the small jobs, arranging staff, but never being at the forefront of the job. Suddenly, they were throwing you in the deep end. The worse of the worse: to marry Bucky Barnes. You left them with one thought, "I won't do it."

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